Chapter 99

Adrian Heineken encountered Carl Lindbergh’s butterfly exactly halfway to Lindbergh Castle.

He snatched the butterfly, which had emerged from the magic stone at his neck and fluttered towards him, then continued riding without pausing.

Steam rose from his body as his heated skin met the cold late-winter air.

He didn’t need a report to understand what was happening at Lindbergh Castle.

Signal fires, originating from the castle, had quickly spread along the walls he’d just passed.

Adrian gritted his teeth. If he’d left just a few hours earlier, Carl wouldn’t be alone there.

The situation at the border had worsened. The ghouls were relentless.

The process of burning the corpses and extracting their essence was falling behind the rate at which bodies were piling up. And the stench of blood had attracted other monsters from the Mibari Forest, their forces replenished as quickly as they were depleted.

Adrian Heineken’s fury, already simmering at the disruption of his plans to have dinner with Carl Lindbergh, intensified, his glare alone enough to incinerate a monster.

James, responsible for the border defense, was caught between the exhausted soldiers and Adrian Heineken, who was pushing himself to the limit, sleep-deprived and fueled by rage.

Fearing Adrian might burn down the entire Mibari Forest and march on Parman if left unchecked, James had finally begged him to return to Lindbergh Castle.

Adrian, desperate to be by Carl’s side, had been hesitant to leave the border undefended. Then, a message arrived from Heineken.

Count Bourbon had relayed Emperor Glenn’s unofficial declaration of war against Parman.

James, seizing the opportunity, had urged Adrian to return, arguing that it was inappropriate for the Crown Prince to be stationed at a foreign border during wartime.

That had been just a few hours ago.

He’d had his fill of bloodshed.

He was beginning to understand High Priest Daniel’s constant lectures against senseless violence.

He felt himself becoming numb, indifferent to the carnage.

He’d always considered himself emotionally blunt, unable to fully experience disgust or revulsion. But he had been wrong.

He was now acutely aware of the cruel instincts within him, the depths of his capacity for violence.

A dark cloud overshadowed his excitement at returning to Carl.

His mind was a blank slate, just like when he’d searched for Carl Lindbergh after his sudden disappearance.

“Kitchener, Parman… whatever is in that castle…”

If even a single scratch appeared on Carl Lindbergh’s body, he’d kill them all.

Even if Carl, with his gentle heart, turned away from him, disgusted by his brutality.

Adrian’s jaw tightened, his eyes glowing with a predatory light.

His pegasus, soaring through the air, landed on a nearby house, its hooves shattering the fragile roof tiles.

The startled homeowner rushed outside, only to find a gold coin carelessly tossed amidst the rubble.

He could see the castle in the distance.

Lindbergh Castle, brightly lit despite the late hour, the sounds of explosions echoing from within. He could see the city guards struggling to hold the gates, their shouts carried by the wind.

Adrian’s blood ran cold, a primal fury rising within him.

When he returned to Heineken, he would bind Carl Lindbergh to him.

Whether he liked it or not.

His pegasus, driven by its master’s frantic pace, was nearing exhaustion.

Then, the butterfly he’d been clutching in his hand wriggled free and fluttered towards his ear.

Adrian, hearing Carl’s voice, released a shaky breath, loosening his grip on the reins.

[Adrian, ahem, I’m… worried about you. I hope this magic works. I have so much to tell you. Please… be careful, and come back soon.]

He could almost picture Carl Lindbergh, awkwardly scratching his cheek, a nervous smile on his face.

The message ended with a soft murmur: 

[I feel like a magical girl.]

When had he learned to do this?

The tension slowly drained from him.

His magic stone glowed faintly, a reassuring sign that Carl Lindbergh was still safe.

His rational mind reasserted itself, and he took a deep breath, calming his racing heart.

“You’re a magical boy now, Carl Lindbergh.”

He chuckled softly, then urged his pegasus onward.

 

❖ ❖ ❖

 

Lulu and Marco hid in the bushes near the castle walls.

“Sob… sob…”

Marco’s shoulders shook as he cried, his eyes frantically scanning the castle grounds. He couldn’t see the prince anywhere.

“Stop crying. My brother isn’t dead yet.”

Lulu tossed him a handkerchief.

“Don’t call the prince… your brother, you… insolent…”

Marco, struggling to contain his sobs, glared at her, and she glared back, exasperated.

“Are you seriously worried about that right now? Just let it go.”

Lulu, also anxious, scanned the castle walls, watching the soldiers.

Just moments ago, they’d been bickering like children.

She’d been following Marco, who was returning to Carl Lindbergh’s room, when they heard a loud crash, and the tower wall exploded outwards. They’d both frozen, staring in disbelief as a grotesque monster emerged from the rubble.

Marco, seeing the creature, its human-like limbs flailing wildly, had fainted, muttering, “The… The Queen…”

While Lulu was slapping him, trying to revive him, soldiers had swarmed the tower. One of them had grabbed Lulu and the unconscious Marco, carrying them outside the castle walls.

The monster was trying to enter the main building, and the soldier, seeing the danger, had ordered them to stay away.

Every time the creature’s viscous fluids splattered against the soldiers, their flesh sizzled and melted.

Lulu, her stomach churning, shook Marco, trying to wake him.

He finally stirred, yelling, “I have to find the prince!” Lulu slapped him again, and he finally calmed down, slumping to the ground.

“Someone saw the prince… heading towards the kitchen.”

“Then we have to go to the kitchen!”

Marco jumped up, and Lulu grabbed his shirt, pulling him back down.

“Are you crazy?! Staying here is helping! What if you get hurt?”

“So we just… stay here and do nothing?”

“Yes!”

“You might be able to do that, but I can’t! I’d rather die by the prince’s side!”

Lulu, exasperated by his childish outburst, raised her fist.

“Listen to me! I’m just as worried about the prince as you are! But if you go in there now, you’ll just be a burden! He’ll find a way to escape! And if you get hurt, or captured, he’ll rush in to save you, and he’ll be the one who dies!”

Her words made Marco deflate.

She was right.

He couldn’t wield a sword; he had no magic. He’d just be a liability.

“If you don’t want to be the annoying side character who gets everyone killed, stay put! Got it?”

He couldn’t bear the thought of being responsible for the prince’s death.

Marco nodded dejectedly.

“That monster… is it really the Queen?”

“…Yes. It’s the Queen.”

The face, partially fused with the monster’s flesh, was unmistakably the Queen’s. Her frantic, wide-eyed expression, searching for something… It was her.

Marco covered his eyes, unable to bear the sight.

It was horrifying. What had she done?

Or perhaps… what had been done to her?

“Mugicha Parman…”

Lulu muttered, thinking about the novel’s plot.

The young king of Parman, a madman in every sense of the word. His goal was to conquer the continent.

And what did he need to achieve that goal?

A proper omegaverse Omega. Dominant, and… preferably beautiful.

The pheromone-disrupting drug Kitchener had been administering to the prince through the Queen…

The device he’d used to poison the King…

Lulu bit her nails, deep in thought.

Kitchener, a barely-Alpha, wouldn’t have been able to imprint Carl Lindbergh easily. How had he managed it?

According to the novel, Carl Lindbergh’s hatred for Adrian Heineken and Belfry Hendrick had begun after his imprinting with Kitchener.

Just like the Queen, Carl Lindbergh had become Kitchener’s puppet, then discarded, his rage and resentment misdirected towards Belfry.

Belfry Hendrick, a true dominant Omega, everything Carl Lindbergh wasn’t. And Adrian Heineken, who’d rejected him…

“He wouldn’t have relied solely on magic…”

Marco, seeing her gnawing on her nails until they bled, stopped crying and grabbed her hand.

“Stop that.”

His voice, laced with concern, made Lulu pause, staring at him. Then she gasped.

“You delivered the medicine to Carl Lindbergh, didn’t you?”

“Ah…”

Marco’s heart sank.

His biggest mistake, his lifelong regret. He hadn’t realized the Queen was poisoning the prince.

“It wasn’t magically tampered with, was it?”

Marco nodded.

“And the King’s… hookah… it was just a normal hookah, right?”

“Probably.”

The witch was indeed a witch. She knew far too much about the inner workings of the Lindbergh royal family.

“The reason Kitchener, a weak Alpha, could control Carl Lindbergh, the reason he could manipulate the King and Queen… it wasn’t magic.”

Lulu was certain now. Parman had another secret, something they were researching, something they were far more invested in than magic stones.

“Magic isn’t their main weapon. They’re using something else.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Lulu smacked herself on the forehead in frustration.

After discovering her true identity, her brother had bombarded her with questions about magic stones.

He’d wanted to know how to inscribe formulas effectively, and about the major plot points involving magic. However, the novel hadn’t gone into much detail about the technical aspects of magic stone inscription, so she couldn’t answer his questions. She hadn’t even known the formulas were written in Korean until she arrived in this world.

“My brother is collecting the magic stones from the Parman monsters. Everyone assumes they have some special properties, but… Parman is… brainwashing them.”

Not with magic, but with something else.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Marco repeated, and Lulu shook her head.

“Nothing, for now. But it will, eventually.”

A single incident like this never stayed isolated in a fantasy novel.