RODH Chapter 24

24.

—Unless one brings spring to Kirias, this curse shall continue.

“Haah!”

Ian jolted awake from the nightmare, eyes snapping open.

He was lying on a cot in a tent, the fire beside him fueled by magic stones.

“Ugh…”

His head filled with images of the attack by countless assassins and of Lucian being wounded.

Was Lucian all right?

The next memory that surfaced gave him a bit of relief.

‘Frozen Flower.’

Just that simple incantation had unleashed an overwhelming ice-type spell.

Seor had come running, shouting his name, alongside Peter. Ian had then met eyes with the dead gaze of the slain deer—and from there, the nightmare had begun.

Recalling all this, Ian called out with a burning throat.

“Bain! Bain!”

Instead of Bain, Seor and Peter entered the tent, pushing the flap aside.

“Ian—by the gods.”

“Your Highness…”

Ian greeted Seor through a fever-hazed vision.

He didn’t have the energy to be polite, but thankfully, Seor didn’t seem to mind.

“You lost too much blood, Ian. Just stay lying down.”

“Where’s Bain? Where is Bain?”

“Lord Ruben, please calm down. You should listen to His Highness. Your condition—”

“Please find Bain. Bain!”

Ian suddenly remembered the moment of his first death.

Was it because of those golden eyes that had looked so helpless when he couldn’t stop the bleeding?

Or because of the brute of a knight who had swung his sword without hesitation?

Whatever the reason, Ian needed Bain.

He kept calling Bain’s name, his throat aching like it was full of sand, until finally Alvis and Lucian appeared.

“The medicine is ready.”

“Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard today. Ian, take this first—”

“Bain!”

“What’s with him? Ian—hey, are you all right?”

Surrounded by four alphas and still unable to find Bain, Ian was on the verge of breaking down.

Just as his emotional dam was about to burst, Bain finally arrived.

“Young master!”

“Bain! Hurry—hurry up! What were you doing, seriously!”

Ian winced as pain surged through his throat like he’d swallowed a handful of sand.

Moved by Ian’s desperate cry, Bain pushed past the four alphas and sat beside him, meeting his eye level.

Ian threw his arms around Bain and began to cry.

“Bain… Bain… hngh… sob…”

“Y-Young master?”

“It hurts. I’m really in pain. What if I die? If I die, do I have to start over again?”

Bain wanted to ask what he meant by that, but the back of his neck prickled with heat—four sharp glares were fixed on him.

The Crown Prince, his captain, the Dragon Crown Prince, and the Tower Lord… every single one of them was staring daggers.

“D-Did I do something wrong…?”

Before he could even hear an answer, Ian gripped Bain’s neck tightly with both arms.

“Bain!”

“Urgh! It’s okay, young master. You’re strong—something like this won’t kill you.”

“I’m scared. If I die, what about my sisters? My father and mother?”

Bain glanced around nervously, searching for the right answer.

“I’ll do everything I can to make sure you don’t die, young master.”

“How?”

“Well… for starters, you have to take your medicine, right?”

Ian’s arms loosened like vines slowly unwinding—he seemed slightly calmer now.

By now, Bain had become used to enduring the death glares from four alphas. He took the potion from Alvis and gently brought it to Ian’s lips.

“Swallow, young master. Just one gulp!”

Like a child falling back into old habits, Ian obeyed Bain and swallowed the bitter medicine.

Tears still clung to his lashes as he murmured,

“It tastes awful…”

Alvis tried to explain, but Bain spoke first.

“Medicines that work well usually taste bad, they say.”

“It tastes too bad. Bain, don’t you have candy? I want candy…”

Bain dug through his pockets and said,

“I don’t have any today.”

“I’ll get it for you. Peter.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Go get some candy.”

“At once.”

As Peter left the tent, Ian lay back down comfortably.

“Candy… Bain, read me a book.”

“Books… I’ll read to you once we’re home, young master.”

“Wow. Didn’t think you could be this spoiled.”

Seor let out a dry chuckle as he watched Ian.

The Ian Pearl Ruben who had always been flawless and precise in front of him—gone. Now, he looked like a five-year-old child.

Half-joking, half-serious, Seor asked,

“There’s no candy or books here. What are you going to do?”

Like his father had done once before, Seor had thrown him a problem to solve.

Ian frowned… and his eyes began to tear up again.

And then—

“Bain, please make that bastard go away.”

“……”

“Pffft—ha ha ha!”

Lucian, watching the scene, doubled over laughing, while Alvis twitched his lips, trying hard not to smile.

Seor, his face flushed bright red, messed up his own blond hair in frustration and shouted,

“When the hell is Peter getting back?!”

Not that yelling into the void would speed things up.

Ian slowly blinked, comforted by the familiar warmth beside him.

Bain quietly informed the remaining three that the young master seemed about to fall asleep.

Just as he predicted, Ian murmured,

“Bain, I’m sleepy.”

“Yes, I’ll help you lie down.”

“Don’t go anywhere until I’m asleep, okay?”

“Yes, I promise.”

Ian’s eyelids soon fluttered shut, and the grip he had on Bain’s hand gently loosened.

Seor, clearly displeased by the situation, scoffed in a huff.

“What a farce. Since when do servants get this close to their masters?”

“I-I…”

The moment Ian fell asleep, those sharp golden eyes began scanning Bain from head to toe.

Bain felt like even his soul was being stripped away.

He briefly wondered how the young master could so casually call such a terrifying man a bastard.

Seor sneered.

“Well? Got something to say?”

“N-No! Nothing at all!”

“Then get lost.”

“But…”

“Did I stutter?”

“Now, now. That’s enough. Isn’t it a good thing Ian has such a loyal servant by his side?”

If Lucian hadn’t stepped in, Bain’s situation would’ve gotten a whole lot worse.

But Lucian wasn’t exactly harmless either.

He slung an arm around Bain’s shoulders in mock camaraderie—only to casually choke him.

“Urk… hck!”

“Haha, just a joke. Just a joke.”

It was way too terrifying to be called a joke.

Bain was just starting to think he might finally get to rest, when the last person approached…

“‘Bitter medicine is good for the body,’ is it? A wise saying. As your reward for taking care of Lord Ruben, I shall offer you a tonic.”

“…Excuse me?”

Alvis, wearing a fearsome expression, handed over a small piece of dark chocolate.

A tonic? Chocolate?

The moment Bain swallowed the tiny square, an overwhelmingly bitter taste exploded in his mouth.

“Cough, cough!”

“Medicine that tastes bitter is good for the body.”

“I-I’m sorry… I spoke out of turn…”

“As long as you understand.”

Having paid a steep price for caring for Ian, Bain just wanted to return to House Ruben as quickly as possible.

But after Peter came back, Bain found himself roped into a ridiculous game.

---

“Mmgh…”

For the first time in a long while, I’d slept through the night without tossing or turning once.

The pleasant feeling didn’t last long. I rubbed my eyes and stared at the ridiculously extravagant palace decor.

“What the hell… Why am I in this gaudy place…?”

I sat up and looked out the window. It looked like some lavish villa with dozens of flower gardens—it had to be a secondary palace.

Did Seor bring me here? Why?

It was probably Bain’s fault, unable to resist Seor’s pressure.

“No matter how much I curse him out, he still sticks me in a place like this…”

I called for Bain, who I knew would be waiting just outside the room.

Bain entered immediately, drew back the canopy, and beamed brightly.

“Young master, how are you feeling today?”

“Of course I’m fine. Just a little sore, that’s all. But why am I here?”

“Well… about that…”

“What?”

“I… lost a game. That’s how you ended up here, young master.”

A game? What game?

I stared at Bain in total confusion, and at that moment, Seor walked in confidently through the open door.

Peter, naturally, followed behind him.

“You seem to be doing much better today, Ian.”

The way Seor said my name so gently—without titles—made me frown in discomfort. It didn’t suit him at all.

Noticing my reaction, Seor asked with a look I’d never seen before,

“Are you okay?”

“…What?”

Why do you even care?

That’s what my expression must’ve said, because Seor let out a slow sigh.

“You were very ill. The poison had seriously spread. If we hadn’t managed to get the antidote from Count Gillat’s lackeys, it might have cost you your life.”

So that’s why it felt like I was teetering on the edge.

After five deaths, I’d finally learned to recognize when my life was actually in danger.

So this time was one of those.

I was about to move on from the thought when—

“And I won the game, so I brought you here. Figured I’d have the imperial physician give you a proper check-up while we’re at it.”

“You’ve been talking about this game since earlier. What exactly are you talking about?”

Just then, the imperial physician entered through the door again and began checking my condition.

“Do you feel any discomfort?”

I shook my head.

So… what was this game?

As I glanced between Seor, Peter, and Bain, Seor declared proudly:

“It was a rock-paper-scissors match. Five people played. I won in the first round.”