MPNS Ch 25

Chapter 25

So, a magical beast has appeared. The capital of Ossinis, Rasiris, is protected by a barrier powered by holy energy.

In a place like this, where magical beasts cannot enter, for one to suddenly appear would mean…

‘Come to think of it, the rumbling of the ground was terrible.’

The magical beast that appeared in the western forest must have dug its way into the city from outside the barrier.

It could be Hiohkan, a massive centipede-like monster, or Yollok, a subterranean, herd-dwelling species.

Hiohkan is a gigantic centipede-type beast, with thousands of pale, human-like legs sprouting along its body.

Despite its grotesque and skin-crawling appearance, its favorite thing was to cling to stone walls and absorb moisture from the rock. Though it sometimes ate animals, the amount it consumed was small compared to its massive size.

However, because its staple food was the moisture in stone crevices, Hiohkan was the greatest enemy of palaces built from marble.

When Hiohkan passed through, the stone walls would crack, and the ground from the foundation up would begin to collapse.

In that case, not only would the people inside the building be endangered, but the surrounding villages could also sink into vast sinkholes as the land gave way.

It was fortunate that this was Rasiris, protected by holy power. If this had been a monster-prone border region, villagers whose homes collapsed due to Hiohkan would be promptly dragged away by Nixie, an ant-like swarm monster, and become a meal for the Nixie queen.

The Yollok, who live underground like moles, were also trouble. They have degenerated eyes, with which they cannot see well, so to compensate, they move in herds. Underground, they dig tunnels for passageways, carrying about ancient, rusted machines made by lost civilizations — not for any purpose, but simply to mimic human behavior.

When they grew bored of amusing themselves, they would come up to the surface on nights when the full moon cast bright shadows. They would abduct humans, force them to use the machines, and the moment those humans hesitated, the Yollok would devour them.

In other words, no matter which magical beast appeared, casualties within the palace grounds were almost certain.

Nikiel wanted to go see the magical beast for himself, but he knew full well that moving now would only cause trouble.

‘No matter how much healthier I’ve gotten, I’m still weak enough to be carried around like luggage by a supposedly frail character like Lucien.’

On top of that, unlike in the original, Nikiel had no foundational understanding of martial arts. He had once wondered if, perhaps as a prince, he might at least have learned some self-defense, so he asked Paul — only to be met with a thunderbolt of an answer:

‘His Highness, fencing? You’re someone who refuses to even pick up a quill because it might give you calluses…’

Paul had worn the same puzzled expression he always had when hearing something wholly implausible. Nikiel felt disheartened. The true Nikiel was, up until this day, a world-class wastrel who had accomplished nothing.

If he had at least learned enough swordsmanship to protect himself in times like this, he could have gone straight to see the magical beast. Nikiel felt a keen sense of regret — and decided this was the decisive moment that proved he needed a sword instructor.

“Where’s the fledgling?”

At Raymon’s question, Lucien tilted his chin slightly toward the western sky. A massive bird was clutching a Yollok by both shoulders, its huge talons piercing the creature as it rose into the air.

Once it had climbed high enough, it seemed the bird intended to release its hooked talons and make the Yollok fall to its death.

Raymon glanced up at this with an indifferent expression, then took off his frock coat, folded it neatly, and set it down in the middle of the brush. Next, he rolled up the sleeves of his blouse.

His demeanor now abandoned the fresh charm of a flower between his teeth and the polite tone of voice — all pretenses gone.

In front of the other three commanders, Raymon dispensed with his fake smile. It wouldn’t work on them anyway, and all three knew perfectly well that Raymon’s personality was thoroughly twisted.

Loosening his shoulders, Raymon began calculating throwing distance. The powerful muscles of his broad shoulders moved smoothly in preparation for the coming attack. He could sense the aura of the magical beasts drawing toward them.

Then, as if something occurred to him, he glanced toward Lucien. Instead of asking what Raymon was looking at, Lucien merely raised a single eyebrow.

Drawing his sword from its scabbard, Raymon spoke in a detached tone:

“Funny, you actually look well today.”

“…So it seems.”

Lucien let out a short sigh, thinking back to his earlier encounter with Nikiel.

‘I — like — feel — good.’

‘Speak properly. You are perfectly capable, so don’t chatter like a parrot.’

The fledgling that had visited his lab had ignored the clearly posted sign forbidding flight indoors, beating its wings regardless.

Lucien disliked the wind stirred up by wingbeats in a place where sensitive specimens were gathered, but Jikari did not stop.

Of the four commanders, even after transforming into a beast, Jikari was the only one who retained reason — ironically, because in his normal state, his reasoning was faint to begin with.

Since the kingdom was as vast and powerful as an empire, the four houses held power far greater than that of minor kingdoms.

The grand ducal house, the two ducal houses, and the marquisate were unwilling to relinquish that power. As a result, the direct heirs of each family often lived unlucky, unhappy lives.

Jikari was no exception.

While still very young, he discovered that the stepmother he believed to be his real mother had, like a cuckoo tossing out the eggs already in the nest, killed all his true siblings and intended to seat the child she was carrying by her lover as the head of the family.

A normal child might have been traumatized into inaction — but Jikari was different.

Many birds came to Jikari’s aid. While hiding among the flocks from assassins of unknown origin, the young boy learned at last that it was his stepmother who had hired them.

By tracing her assassins back, he killed his stepmother, and after his father’s funeral, took the headship of the house, which had been left vacant.

From then on, he revealed to the world the wings he had kept hidden, but he also developed mutism — perhaps the result of having personally killed the person he believed to be his mother at such a tender age.

Living among birds to evade the assassins had left Jikari with dominant instincts. For a small child to survive, it was paramount to kill off anything unnecessary and prioritize instinct.

Thus, he was the only commander who, even after transforming into a beast, was not overcome by madness. It was not that he was immune — but unlike the others, he could consciously move the muscles of his chest to take flight at will.

The problem was that the trauma he suffered at such a young age had frozen his growth somewhere between boy and youth.

Though his age was more than sufficient to have held his coming-of-age ceremony, his appearance remained boyish, unlike the other commanders.

If Yullan and Raymon bore distinctly masculine features, and Lucien looked every inch a sturdy young man with a beautiful face of fine lines, then Jikari looked like a beloved seed sent down by the gods.

If Nikiel’s hair was a sunny flaxen platinum woven from clear sunlight, Jikari’s golden hair looked as if molten gold had been poured and cooled.

His radiant golden hair was slightly curly, and even with no expression he looked like an adorable boy. At times, one could see a guileless beauty that spoke of a youth who would not come of age until the year after next.

However, despite his outward appearance, he was quiet, taciturn, and more instinct-driven than rational — and he showed no mercy when making a move.

As such, he had never treated Nikiel as a person.

Lucien, like Raymon, now removed his frock coat and hung it on a tree branch, recalling the banquet that had taken place last winter.

That day, a snowstorm had raged, yet the king — who liked to feign otherwise but secretly loved luxury — had burned costly magic stones just to hold a feast.

Outside the windows, snow whipped about; in Anyon Street, the capital’s slum beyond the palace walls, citizens huddled with frostbite gnawing their fingers and toes off, unable to fill their stomachs — yet inside, champagne glasses were filled to the brim with golden liquid.

That year had been one of drought and cold, but unusually good for grape harvests. Other crops had underproduced, so commoners were left with nothing after paying their taxes, but the king rejoiced over the grapes and ordered a winery built.

With labor wages delayed, the commoners conscripted for the work went without food long enough to lose the strength to survive winter, and a “winter of death” came upon them as even minor illnesses claimed their lives. Still, the king held his feast unconcerned.

No one spoke for the people. The four commanders, just returned from the Subjugation Tournament and fully aware of the grueling labor the peasants had endured, attended the feast wearing expressions like rotting flesh.

Then, from the distance, came a loud, shrill voice:

*‘Raymon’s neither here nor there!’*³

Lucien saw Raymon’s face pale slightly and twist into an ugly scowl, and with a sigh, turned his back to search for a hiding spot.

Being caught by the lecherous Nikiel could mean enduring the same public humiliation Raymon had just suffered.

Nikiel’s father, the king, continued conversing with his close aide, as if he hadn’t heard a thing.

The king could not subdue the four commanders by his own power; instead, he sought to manipulate them by wielding his son’s holy power.

It was easier to handle Nikiel than the commanders, so the king showed him no affection, raising him with something close to emotional abuse.

All the commanders knew this. Yet, as the saying goes, even in the mud a lotus blooms: their own childhoods had been far harsher than Nikiel’s, who had at least grown up behind the protective walls of the palace.

Still, none of them had lived as recklessly as Nikiel.

Each commander had found a different way to bloom their lotus above the swamp of hell. To them, Nikiel was the very picture of a pitiable human.

It was as if he had realized early on that his only weapons were his holy power and his looks — for he would try to pull the commanders into his hand in public, and spread scandalous affairs with various lowlifes in private.

He was a typical petty man who sought to vent the resentment of being oppressed by his father onto others.

Notes:

1. Hiohkan (히오칸) — A gigantic centipede-type magical beast with thousands of pale, human-like legs; destructive to marble structures. 
2. Yollok (욜록) — A mole-like, subterranean magical beast species living in herds, with degenerated eyesight, mimicking humans and abducting them under the full moon. 
3. The Korean insult “자지는 말자지다” in Nikiel’s shout at the banquet is crude and mocking; akin to saying “Raymon’s nothing special where it counts,” mixing sexual derision with wordplay.