MPNS Ch 13

Chapter 13

‘Is a divine oracle really that powerful? But I’m a Buddhist, though. I even have a Dharma name.’

Nikiel’s Dharma name was Beopwangsim (法王心). He even had a Jogye Order membership card, which granted him discounts on temple parking and admission fees at places like Naksansa or Bulguksa.

‘Can some god I don’t even serve influence a Buddhist follower? I’m actually pretty devout, you know?’

However, Raymond’s expression appeared serious. It seemed even they found it strange that such an oracle would descend in this manner.

“How do you know what the oracle will say, Your Grace?”

He asked what he was most curious about first. Raymond replied, looking rather puzzled.

“You’re aware, are you not, that before its public announcement, a sealed letter is sent first to the four houses?”

“…Of course, I know that very well. I was just confirming that you also remember it clearly.”

Raymond narrowed his eyes, suspicion clouding his gaze, but Nikiel cleared his throat with a feigned cough and averted his eyes.

Either way, now that the oracle was said to have descended, he was curious about its contents. Nikiel lowered his hand holding the teacup and asked,

“So, what does the oracle say?”

He barely managed to hide the expression of detached curiosity behind his hand.

For Nikiel, the subjugation tournament—whether it involved monsters or weeds—was hardly his concern.

‘But I have to say, the religion of this world is kinda weird.’

The faith of this world seemed to be a mishmash of elements from every religion Nikiel had known in his previous world.

To say that out loud, however, would likely get him condemned as cursed by some sinister evil for daring to speak ill despite being born with golden hair and blue eyes under divine grace—he could easily end up burned at the stake. In truth, even the so-called holy power he possessed didn’t feel real to him.

Naturally, his curiosity about the differences between the religions he knew and the one in this world was only growing stronger.

Raymond narrowed his eyes at him. Though his lips still held that ever-gentle smile, the sharp glint in his eyes made Nikiel’s heart skip.

“I didn’t expect you to take interest in such matters. Remarkable, Your Highness.”

His tone implied, Weren’t you the one who only ever cared about pampering your face or gossiping about which knight was courting which noblewoman behind closed doors?

Nikiel coughed again and brought the teacup to his lips.

“Really? Well, since it’s an oracle I’m not privy to anyway, I suppose there’s no need for me to go. I’ll just stay home… besides, the weather’s not even good these days.”

“……”

Raymond gave him a skeptical look at his rambling tone, then turned to the window. Under the clear skies, cottony clouds drifted peacefully. Raymond finally spoke.

The oracle’s words were as follows:

Entrust your undertaking to the one crowned with sunlight’s hair.

Thus shall I deliver you, and surely shall you triumph.

“In other words, the oracle commands us to bring Your Highness along to this subjugation tournament.”

Raymond explained slowly, as if addressing someone slow-witted, yet the contempt simmering beneath his words remained evident.

‘Feels like he’s just trying to pick a fight on purpose.’

Nikiel thought dryly. More than that, he couldn’t help but feel that this so-called oracle could be twisted to mean anything—a phrase to fit whatever situation arose.

“So, just because it says to entrust the undertaking to me, you’re interpreting that as me attending the tournament? What if it’s about some trivial errand instead?”

Raymond’s expression instantly twisted, as if he’d just heard utter nonsense.

“Tsk.”

He even clicked his tongue openly now. Then, as if he’d never done it, he met Nikiel’s gaze with a faint smile.

The handsome man’s smile was disarmingly pleasant. Nikiel almost let himself be swayed before snapping back to his senses.

‘Why is he this good-looking? He’s outright insulting me, and I’m still—ugh.’

On reflection, it felt like this reaction belonged to the real Nikiel’s body. Ever since Raymond had entered the room, Nikiel had felt an erratic pounding in his chest. At first he suspected arrhythmia, but soon realized it was a sign of sexual attraction.

Nikiel himself had never once considered men as romantic interests, so the only explanation was that this body—Nikiel’s body—was reacting to Raymond.

Mildly affronted by that, Nikiel chose not to call out Raymond’s insolence. The man’s twisted temperament wasn’t something Nikiel intended to fix.

‘He probably got away with this because he’s a duke. One day, though, he’s gonna get what’s coming to him.’

Suppressing the urge to demand, How old even are you, kid? Nikiel simply stared back at Raymond, mirroring the contempt directed at him.

“At any rate, even if it is an oracle, it’s open to broad interpretation. I don’t see why I need to go.”

“…How fascinating to hear you say that.”

Raymond, still wearing that fixed smile, somehow radiated oppressive energy.

The atmosphere in the room itself felt charged with hostility; Nikiel could tell that Raymond was displeased, and that at any moment, the duke could crush his throat and snap his hyoid bone if he wished.

The only reason he hadn’t was sheer mercy and tolerance on Raymond’s part—or so his presence seemed to declare.

Nikiel was dumbfounded. A duke, bestowing mercy and tolerance upon a prince? Just how worthless was a prince’s position in this kingdom, for a duke to act with such impunity?

Then it dawned on him: Raymond wasn’t being disrespectful to the title of prince—he was being disrespectful specifically to Nikiel.

‘…Guess “That Thing About His Manhood” isn’t the only time I annoyed him.’

Otherwise, why would a man who feigned affable politeness in front of others abandon all pretense around him alone?

The original Nikiel must have been both foolish and unpleasant, surely the first to commit offense. Still, it wasn’t his fault personally, and he felt somewhat wronged by the situation.

But with no way to reveal any of this, Nikiel kept a deliberately serious tone as he continued,

“In any case, let’s revisit this discussion when the oracle is formally announced, rather than just the sealed letters sent to your houses. It hasn’t been made official yet, has it?”

At those words, one of Raymond’s brows arched slightly—surprise flickering briefly across his face. He clearly hadn’t expected Nikiel to say something so reasonable.

‘If I told him I can even do basic arithmetic, this guy would probably faint. Ugh, how irritating.’

Suddenly fed up with the entire exchange, Nikiel issued a curt dismissal.

“Even if I look healthy, I’m still unwell. I can’t keep a busy duke from his duties any longer. Please, take your leave.”

Rather than offended, Raymond seemed contemplative, silently studying him. Nikiel, unfazed, simply sipped his cooling tea. The duke soon departed as unceremoniously as he had entered, without so much as a farewell.

Watching the back of the departing Turun duke vanish, Nikiel cracked his neck.

“Oh, he left quickly.”

Apparently having missed his exit, Paul entered the room, surprised to find the door open. Nikiel beckoned him over.

“Hey, Paul.”

“No way. Do you even know how harsh the sun is right now? If you go out, you’ll get scorched and end up looking like some brown pony!”

Paul flailed his hands frantically, mistaking Nikiel’s gesture as an intent to go outside for exercise. Though he hadn’t been planning to go out, he did remember skipping his lower-body workout that afternoon. But there was something more urgent.

“That’s not it. Tell me more about this subjugation tournament.”

“You mean the monster subjugation tournament, Your Highness?”

Paul gave him a look that clearly asked, Why in the world are you suddenly curious about that?

Still, he couldn’t refuse his master’s question. So, trying to keep his explanation as brief as possible, Paul began to speak.

“Unbelievable.”

Raymond was irritated.

His life had been like a meticulously laid snare—harsh beyond belief, never allowing him a moment’s rest.

The same could likely be said for the other heads of the four houses.

The North’s Balt, the West’s Griff, the East’s Turun, and the capital’s Boltwick. These four houses were the pillars supporting the vast Ossinis Kingdom, legendary families even recorded in myth.

But the heads of these families bore the curse of the dark dragon, Nashiu—never meeting a good end. Not only did their lives end tragically, but they began in hardship as well.

The curse was inherited, but in return, it granted immense benefits: the ability to transform into a beast—a massive predator the size of a house—and wield limitless power.

Riding on the strength of such leaders, the four houses had prospered.

In this vast kingdom, grand enough to be called an empire, the four houses had taken deep root as great nobles.

For as long as the history of Ossinis itself, the four families had expanded their influence upon the sacrifices of their cursed heads.

Thus, the suffering of those heads was inevitably neglected.

A prime example was Raymond’s elder sister, the previous Boltwick duchess.

Born into misfortune and living a wretched life, she passed away without ceremony. After her death, the curse transferred to Raymond.

Because she had left no heirs, it fell to the youngest of her closest kin—Raymond.

And so, upon the individual suffering of each head, the flourishing house once again placed its weight on his shoulders.

‘Your Grace must secure Prince Nikiel’s choice at all costs.’

The Boltwick house had long allowed a council of elders, comprised of cadet branch nobles.

Originally intended to aid the head of house, human nature ensured they devolved into self-serving factions, pursuing their own gain.

The council eventually transformed into an internal power bloc, pressuring the head of house relentlessly.

It had been the same during his sister Lia Boltwick’s tenure as duchess.

She had tried desperately to mediate with the council, but her efforts bore no fruit until the day she returned to dust. Perhaps it was precisely that suffocating pressure that led her to harbor feelings for someone like Yullan—a man of questionable character. People without a refuge often fell into love easily.

‘Damn it, they’re outright treating me like a stud horse.’

Raymond strode through the palace with an expression serene and fresh, yet inwardly cursing profusely.

Footnotes

• Jogye Order membership card: A membership card for lay followers of Korean Buddhism’s Jogye Order, offering temple-related benefits such as parking or admission discounts.
• Naksansa / Bulguksa: Famous Buddhist temples in South Korea known for their historical and cultural significance.
• Hyoid bone: A small U-shaped bone in the neck that supports the tongue; breaking it is often referenced in strangulation scenarios.
• Turun / Boltwick / Balt / Griff Houses: The four noble families in this world’s lore, each aligned with a cardinal direction and bearing the dark dragon’s curse.