MPNS Ch 20

Chapter 20

So, it’s that dream again. What made him realize it was the familiarity of the murmuring voice. Nikiel understood immediately that the moment he fainted, he had been drawn into that same dream once more.

So, your yearning for me amounts to nothing more than a single glass of water. Your affection is always this barren.

It struck him as odd how, though he would forget the dream entirely upon waking, the moment he entered it again, the contents of his previous dreams returned to him in a chain of recollections. Nikiel knew very well why that voice was grumbling about the small amount of water left by his bedside.

The voice had once said it would one day drown him in a lake of longing. Yet the water Nikiel had managed to set out, symbolic of that longing, was only a single cup. That must be the reason for its complaint.

But for Nikiel, that cup was the best he could do. He could not leave out any more than that. If there were even slightly more water, the all‑drying sunlight would immediately notice. That was something he could not allow.

Nikiel wanted to explain this, yet no words escaped him, his throat glued shut as though parched.

…And why are you fainting again? Honestly pathetic. I told you once, even kindness can become an illness…

The voice spoke in a tone that was scolding, yet strangely imbued with melancholy. Nikiel constantly wanted to apologize, but kept his mouth closed. No words would come out. And yet, the other spoke as though aware of Nikiel’s unspoken feelings.

If you’re sorry, then take breaks. I said I wanted to kill you, not that I wanted to see you die.

Isn’t that the same thing? Nikiel thought blankly, yet the touch of someone brushing his cheek felt so pleasant that he kept his mouth shut.

…To stop the hemoptysis, you’ll have to expend divine power. And to expend divine power…

I won’t say the rest out loud. …I hate summer. The days are too long. You felt the same, didn’t you?

The voice dripped with longing. Nikiel wanted to tell him that their feelings were the same.

I won’t fall for your sweet talk anymore… Just remember me. If you do that much, I’ll believe you…

Nikiel. Nikiel. The owner of the voice buried his face into Nikiel’s nape, calling his name in a pleading tone.

Nikiel wanted to wrap his arms around him in return. His back must still bear those inverted scales.1 At first, he had hated anyone touching them, yet in time, like an oversized hound begging for affection, he had hunched his large body and held Nikiel close.

Whenever that towering figure embraced him, Nikiel would stretch his arms as far as they would go to hug him back. And each time, the man would let out a pained groan, as if the nerves once tormented by madness found peace through Nikiel’s touch.

Yes. How could he ever have forgotten that sense of peace?

Yes. How could you ever forget me? How could you, of all people?

In that moment—just as something was about to resurface in his memory—the sun began to rise beyond the horizon of the dream.

Startled, Nikiel looked at him. Half‑shrouded in shadow, he smiled at Nikiel, as though resigned.

Don’t. Don’t go. Nikiel reached out, trying to embrace his back. He wanted to cry out with all his might, begging him not to leave. But, like Eros fleeing Psyche for fear of being seen,2 the man turned swiftly and ran toward the darkness.

No. Don’t go.

“Don’t!”

“Don’t what, Your Highness? Today you must absolutely stay in bed and rest.”

Nikiel gasped for breath. What was that? What kind of dream…? The tears that had pooled beneath his eyelids spilled down, soaking the sheets the moment he opened his eyes.

Paul was approaching the bed, balancing a silver cart topped with a bed tray. Nikiel frowned.

“What is this… what was that?”

“Seasonal fruits and annual‑bean soup. You’ve been unconscious since last evening, so your first meal should be something gentle.”

Paul grumbled in a flat tone. Still half‑trapped in the dream, Nikiel unconsciously pressed a hand against his chest.

It felt like my heart was being torn out…

It was strange. He felt as though he had dreamed again, yet only the sensation lingered; no memory of the dream remained.

“Did I faint again?”

“Yes. Again. See? This is what happens when you ignore everything I tell you. What is it with Your Highness— No, forget it. Why am I even saying anything to someone who doesn’t listen to a lowly servant like me?”

…Why is he sulking now? Already muddled by the vague remnants of the dream, Nikiel found it odd that Paul was pouting and muttering to himself.

“Why are you upset?”

“I told you over and over to eat properly, but instead you buried yourself in books without rest. Weren’t you exercising to train your body? What’s the point if you’re doing this again?”

Paul’s gentle eyes were brimming with tears. For him, the greatest joy was seeing his master finally trying to live properly.

The days of being drunk on drugs were gone; he had even cut alcohol to near abstinence, waking early every morning to exercise. Paul had thought, Good. As long as His Highness marries well now, everything will be perfect. How happy that had made him.

But then suddenly, Nikiel began obsessively reading books so heavy he couldn’t even lift them before, and afterward ate nothing but scraps fit for beggars outside the city walls—neglecting bathing and even sleep.

He seemed intoxicated, almost as though he had found some strange drug. Paul had even wondered if his master had secretly gotten hold of some.

But that wasn’t it either. He had simply buried his face in books and begun writing like a madman.

When Paul peeked at what he was writing, the characters seemed to be made of squares, triangles, and circles. They weren’t the letters used in Osinis.

When asked what they were, Nikiel said it was Hangul3. He pointed to another set of characters and said that was English.

Paul didn’t recognize them at all. Nowhere on the eastern or western continents were such characters used. They looked like the scripts of some obscure tribes.

By the time Paul had worked up the courage to ask when Nikiel had even learned them, Nikiel had suddenly collapsed unconscious.

Fortunately, the physician said it was merely an excess of divine power overflowing in an overworked body, and that he would wake once he had slept. But Paul had truly been terrified.

“All right. It won’t happen again.”

Nikiel soothed Paul, whose tear‑filled eyes still glared at him. After all, he felt as though he had finally found a solution to handling his divine power.

Didn’t your family’s leaders say they needed divine power? Then I can just give it to them, can’t I?

He couldn’t understand why such a simple solution hadn’t occurred to him before. Thinking back, whenever he met Yullan or Raymond, he had felt a slight easing in his body.

At the time, he had thought it was merely drowsiness, but in truth, the surging divine power had been finding stability, relaxing his nerves.

Come to think of it, I felt even more at ease around that goshawk… More than I did with Yullan or Raymond… What’s that bird up to now?

During the short time he had spent with the hawk, his body had felt light and even the signs of hemoptysis disappeared. Back then, he had thought it was just the effect of exercise.

While exercise wasn’t without benefit, it alone couldn’t have brought about such a drastic change. Either way, Nikiel needed to meet with the other clan leaders.

I’ve already met Yullan and Raymond, so I could just hold hands with them… but I don’t want to. Those guys are all so grumpy, my ears ache from their constant grumbling.

Nikiel disliked people in general and was quietly introverted; he hated forming new relationships.

If he had to hold someone’s hand, it would be better to choose someone he already knew. But those two? Every time he met them, they would snarl, exhausting him completely.

Why do they keep picking fights? If you don’t like me, just ignore me.

Nikiel couldn’t understand it. In graduate school, he had ignored a senior he disliked for the entire master’s program—why couldn’t others just do the same?

If you dislike someone, you ignore them. Why chase them down to quarrel and talk to them? Nikiel simply couldn’t comprehend it.

Regardless, rather than expending energy reacting to them and holding their hands, it seemed better to find the remaining two leaders instead.

In a rush, Nikiel hastily finished breakfast and tried to dash out—only to be caught immediately.

“You haven’t even washed your face! Where do you think you’re going?”

“Ha, five times a week is enough for washing my face.”

“Kyaaa!”

Paul shrieked so loudly he called upon Solius4 for help. Calling on a god just because he skipped a face wash? Annoyed by Paul’s nagging, Nikiel reluctantly turned toward the bath.

In the end, Nikiel couldn’t leave the room until, in addition to washing his face, he had tried on five different outfits and chosen a pigeon‑gray blouse and a deep navy silk vest most suited to the day’s weather.

“Why do I have to dress up like this just to go a few steps outside?”

Grumbling, Nikiel finally left the prince’s palace. Before finding the other two leaders, his goal for today’s outing was to gather as much information about them as possible.

He could ask Paul, of course, but the moment Nikiel uttered even a single question about his prospective brides—

“Ah, at last, the day has come for our prince to marry! This humble servant Paul has long awaited this blessed moment!”

—he would be met with Paul’s tearful fanaticism. Worse, Paul might even suggest preparing the wedding robes immediately. Nikiel wanted to avoid that at all costs.

Footnotes

1. Reversed scale (역린) – In East Asian mythology, dragons were said to have one reversed scale on their throat or belly; touching it would enrage the dragon. Here it implies a vulnerable or sensitive spot on his back.
2. Eros and Psyche – A reference to the Greek myth where Eros (Cupid) flees after Psyche lights a lamp to see his face, breaking his command.
3. Hangul (한글) – The Korean writing system, created in the 15th century, unique for its scientific structure using consonant and vowel blocks.
4. Solius – Likely a deity in this fictional setting; Paul calling upon him in exasperation is akin to crying “Oh my God!” in English.