RODH Chapter 50

50.

“Kieeeek!”

It was a massive centipede monster.

The monster appeared out of nowhere and swung its massive legs straight at Seor, who stood at the front.

Seor realized the danger a moment too late and moved to dodge.

But the centipede’s strike was faster.

“Damn it.”

He braced to be hit and sent flying—but he was unharmed.

Peter had thrown himself in the way.

“Peter!”

“Ghhk—!”

At that moment, Nevan shouted,

“Form up!”

His command was echoed by the soldiers behind him.

“Form up!”

Nevan’s forces charged forward, leaving the terrified imperial soldiers behind.

Gripping the reins of his bucking horse tightly, Nevan began cutting off the centipede’s legs one by one.

The monster let out a horrific scream and collapsed.

“It’s a venom centipede with three hearts! Finish it off completely!”

Following Nevan’s orders, his retainers plunged their swords into the monster’s body like nails being driven in.

Struck in its vital points, the centipede shrieked its death cry and dropped its head with a thud.

Only once everything was over did Nevan dismount.

He jerked his chin toward Luke.

“Bring the antidote herb.”

“Understood!”

“Peter! Stay with me!”

“Ugh…”

Seeing Peter’s condition, Seor looked completely shaken.

Nevan tried to calm him.

“Your Highness, there’s an antidote. Please remain calm.”

“Calm? You expect me to be calm right now? Peter got hurt! He took that blow for me!”

As Seor raised his voice, murmurs began spreading among the imperial soldiers.

Nevan leaned in and spoke quietly to Seor again.

“If you lose composure like this, it’ll shake the morale of the troops. Think of your image as Crown Prince once we return to the palace.”

Seor’s golden eyes trembled.

Peter, the one who’d grown up with him like a brother, was injured because of him.

Just like his father always said—he was helpless.

“Damn it… damn it!”

Slamming his fists into the ground, Seor took the antidote herb from Luke and applied it to Peter’s injured knee himself.

Seeing him regain his composure, the soldiers also began to settle down.

Seor supported Peter and asked,

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“I can endure it.”

“Don’t do that again.”

“But protecting Your Highness is my duty.”

“…Forget that kind of duty next time, Peter.”

Peter didn’t answer. Not until the end.

Upon arriving at the Grand Duke’s estate in Kirias, Peter was burning up with fever from the poison.

“Peter! Peter!”

Seor shouted desperately, but Peter, overwhelmed by a drowsiness that crashed over him like a wave, slowly slipped into unconsciousness.

He vaguely heard the estate’s chief physician speaking.

“The poison spread rapidly through the veins in his knee. Had it been even a little later…”

Peter could guess what came next.

They were probably saying he would’ve ended up crippled—or that they might’ve had to amputate the rotting limb.

He gazed weakly at the fireplace burning in front of the bed.

In the flames, he saw Ian’s reflection.

‘I heard you haven’t appointed a royal guard yet.’

Peter wanted to be Ian’s royal guard.

It was absurd that this wish surfaced when his life was on the line—but it was sincere.

All this time, Peter had silently ignored the unfamiliar feelings he couldn’t quite explain.

But when the Emperor himself said it was acceptable to kill Ian, he realized it clearly.

That he, Peter El Hubert, harbored a quiet admiration—perhaps even affection—for Ian.

Otherwise, why would his first instinct be to resist an imperial command?

In his steadily dimming brown eyes, he saw golden ones that resembled the Emperor’s.

“I’ll speak to my father and get you a leave of absence. So don’t worry and rest. Peter, I owe you.”

“I’m all right.”

“I’m not, and that’s why I’m saying this.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Even speaking with Seor was exhausting.

He needed to get up and write a letter—specifically, one to Commander Alex of the Imperial Guard, who would carry out his duties in his place.

But the potent effects of the healing herbs and the excessive warmth of the room held him down like chains.

‘If Ian Pearl Ruben shows suspicious behavior, cut him down on the spot. And if he poses any threat to the Empire, do the same.’

Peter prayed that Alex wouldn’t carry out such an absurd order.

And then, Peter’s eyes closed.

---

Just as Peter had predicted, Alex El Hubert arrived at the Ruben ducal estate.

Mikhail, who had ridden with him, let out a gasp of awe upon seeing the expansive gardens.

“Wow… Brother, look at that. So many rare flowers and trees. As expected from the Empire’s foremost family.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to look around once we’re inside. You haven’t forgotten what you need to do today, have you?”

At Alex’s words, Mikhail snapped out of his daze and nodded.

“Of course not. I’ll do anything if it means I can be of help to you and the others.”

Unlike their eldest brother, Alex—who was closer in age to Mikhail—had always disapproved of him.

An omega, frail to the point of fragility, born into a lineage of knights.

Mikhail said,

“Don’t worry, Brother. I’ll do my best.”

“Alright. I’ll trust you.”

As the two stepped out of the carriage, they were greeted by Ian Pearl Ruben, known as the Young Lord of House Ruben.

With hair like polished ebony, eyes as vivid as the finest emeralds, and pearl-toned skin brighter than his white uniform, he perfectly embodied his middle name—Pearl.

Matching the elegance of his presence, Alex descended the carriage with brisk steps and introduced himself.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Alex El Hubert, Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guard and second son of House Hubert. And this here is…”

But as soon as Ian caught sight of the person quietly stepping down after him, his expression hardened.

“Young Lord Ruben?”

“Ah, forgive me. I was distracted by such a beautiful guest.”

“You flatter me. This is our youngest, Mikhail Hubert.”

With a smile as radiant as sunlight, Mikhail grabbed Ian’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Young Lord Ruben!”

“Yes. Likewise.”

His voice lacked warmth.

Mikhail, sensing something off, failed to let go of Ian’s hand in time.

Alex stepped in to reprimand him.

“Mikhail. Let go of his hand at once. That’s improper.”

“Ah—my apologies. I didn’t mean any disrespect. Please forgive me.”

Was it the apology?

Whatever the reason, Ian’s demeanor, which had seemed cold just a moment ago, softened.

With a smile, Ian said,

“No need to stand around outside. Please come in for a cool cup of tea.”

“That sounds great.”

“Yes, thank you!”

After giving Mikhail another warning for being too excitable, Alex followed Ian inside.

Ruben Ducal Estate, Reception Room.

Alex, eyeing the sangria that contained no alcohol, spoke first.

“My apologies for the sudden visit. It’s under orders from the Crown Prince.”

Mikhail had his head turned, mesmerized by the curtains fluttering in the breeze.

Because of that, it took him a while to realize someone had appeared beside Ian.

A tall woman with long hair, sharp eyes, and dark skin—clearly a member of the dragon clan—spoke.

“I’m late with introductions. My name is Leslie, and I serve the Crown Princess-to-be.”

Alex, both wary of Leslie’s silent approach and trying not to show it, smiled politely.

“I’ve heard that the dragon clan also trains assassins.”

“That’s not uncommon anywhere, is it?”

“Haha, true enough.”

“I’m here for the sole purpose of protecting the Crown Princess-to-be.”

“Shouldn’t there be at least two people for that?”

“I’m enough to take on a hundred.”

Leslie answered with confidence, leaving Alex without a retort.

And then—

“Cough, cough!”

“Mikhail!”

Mikhail suddenly doubled over in a coughing fit.

Startled, Ian turned to Alex.

“Does he have a chronic condition?”

“Yes, it’s an asthma attack. I’ll fetch his medicine from the carriage at once.”

“Then I’ll come with you.”

Noting Leslie’s suspicious gaze, Alex addressed her.

“I’ll only be going to the carriage.”

“I know.”

“Lady Leslie. Please let them go,” Ian said.

He reassured Alex and quickly ushered him from the room.

Leslie still looked unconvinced, her eyes full of displeasure.

Ian helped Mikhail sit more comfortably on the sofa.

“He’s a guest. We should treat him with respect.”

“How do you know what he might try to do?”

“Cough, cough!”

Startled by the rising voices, Mikhail began coughing harder.

Ian shook his head at Leslie and tended to Mikhail himself.

“Breathe slowly. There’s nothing here that can harm you.”

“Cough, th-thank… cough…”

While Mikhail used his asthma attack as an excuse to stall, Alex slipped into Ian’s room using the directions Peter had provided.

Whether Ian had hidden his party-going past or truly changed, the room was surprisingly modest.

Looking for anything suspicious, Alex moved toward the bookshelf.

“On Rulership, Foundations of Etiquette, A Primer on Dance Etiquette…”

All books any noble might own. Nothing particularly out of place.

Then his eyes landed on an old journal lying on the desk.

The cover bore a name.

“Berkisto Ruben?”

As he reached for the book, he heard the doorknob click and turn.

Alex ducked quickly, hiding beneath the desk.

Light, bouncing footsteps went back and forth between the bedroom and bathroom.

Holding his breath, Alex waited, motionless.

Eventually, the door opened and closed again.

Only after confirming the person had truly left did Alex rise to his feet.

“That woman, Leslie…”

For someone supposedly not an assassin, she was disturbingly good at concealing her presence.

Thankfully, she hadn’t followed him. But there was no more time to waste.

Alex reached for Berkisto’s journal.

TL/N: Mass release till chap 85 wait till i do bulk upload