I Start with a Bad Hand!

Dietrich Degoph was a cunning liar.

At some point, Icarus realized that the girl he liked was a con artist who could effortlessly spew out lies in a most skillful manner. The problem was her indifferent face and her nonchalant attitude. These traits added a convincing layer of sincerity to her blatant lies.

“Oh, zombies… Those are just bugs. We call them ‘zombie bugs’ in our territory. It was a mistake in translation from colloquial to literary language.”

When telling small lies, she didn’t bother hiding that she was lying. These moments made her seem quite genuine, which made it impossible not to fall for her bigger lies. It seemed she was aware of this ability. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to get away with slipping through tricky situations so easily.

“I’m not very perceptive… I can’t distinguish well between human kindness and affection.”

However, there was one thing she hadn’t realized. No matter how skillfully she wove her words, her expressions, attitude, and gaze remained consistent. This was partly because Icarus was the main victim of her lies, but also because he consistently observed her.

A lightly composed breath, an unwavering gaze that met his directly, a voice as firm as that gaze. At a glance, it seemed like she was speaking sincerely. Dietrich gave her all even to her lies. Yet, meticulous as she seemed, Dietrich didn’t seem to notice the subtle expressions she occasionally let slip.

‘If you hate it so much, why does your face say otherwise…?’

Dietrich, as told by the priest, was someone who was so tired of life here that she couldn’t wait for tomorrow, someone who was sick to death of this world.

One day, when they climbed the hill together, an unusually shiny and clean acorn caught his eye. It had a perfectly symmetrical cap and shell. It was the most beautiful and perfect acorn Icarus had ever seen in his life, and he felt an impulse to hand it to Dietrich, who was basking in the autumn sun. She might reject small, shiny things, but perhaps she would accept this.

“Here’s an acorn. Take it.”

But Dietrich squinted at the small fruit he offered, then lowered her raised head and replied,

“No, let the squirrels eat it.”

“…It’s just one acorn.”

By now, the squirrels would have gone to bed. Although it was still a bit early in the season for hibernation, Icarus fiddled with the small fruit and asked. It was just a single, small acorn. Was she so unwilling to accept even that from him? He felt a bit dejected. But her response was unexpected.

“Even if they don’t eat it, it will sprout if left alone. Just leave it.”

In retrospect, it was a very funny thing to say. Why would someone who hated this world care whether the squirrels starved or whether this place sprouted new life? Despite pretending otherwise, Dietrich was fundamentally someone who knew how to give affection to something, someone who could look forward to the future. Every time, this made Icarus certain.

‘Even if you say you hate it, you don’t despise it. You’re someone ready to affirm something.’

Whenever moments of affection for the future were revealed, Icarus would murmur to himself. A contradictory girl who, despite seeming like she could die from hating this world, thought of food for the squirrels and the sprouting trees.

‘It’s okay if I’m not the one to receive her love in this world.’

There would be countless things capable of receiving that affection. Instead of clinging to that love, she needed something that could hold her up as she struggled, something that could push her hesitant steps forward. So, Icarus wanted to find that for her. He knew he was the only one familiar with something, unlike the mature girl who seemed to have experienced everything once. It was that he knew this world better than she did.

When he finally saw the aurora in the territory he would oversee after a long journey, Icarus thought of her face. The icy relationship they had fought through countless times didn’t matter at all.

“Wow… it’s spectacular. Actually, the weather here is rarely good, so seeing this view is unusual.”

The administrator of the territory joked that the sky must be happy because His Highness was visiting. Icarus, with a slightly urgent heart, asked,

“How long will this phenomenon last?”

“Well, it changes rapidly… at most a few hours, at least an hour? But right now, there are no clouds at all… Where are you going, Your Highness?”

At that moment, he had only one thought. He wanted to show her that sky. It didn’t matter that he needed a scroll to return to the capital, or the voice calling him, or even the fact that Dietrich might not have enough clothes to endure the cold of the territory and that he might have to give her his own clothes. None of it mattered.

And when he finally saw her expression, Icarus knew he had made the right choice.

If the cost of seeing that expression, which couldn’t be hidden even with lies, was just a high fever, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t mind being sick for years.

“But later on, when you meet many people and have various experiences, you’ll realize that the emotions you felt now weren’t all that special. So, what I mean is… um… even if it’s not me, you’ll eventually meet someone who will be good to you. I always wanted to tell you that.”

His voice, full of hesitation, came out without him catching his breath. Even without seeing it, he knew that her gaze had softened at his gentle tone.

“…I don’t hate you.”

And even the words that followed. Even in his fading consciousness, Icarus thought it was enough. Not hating didn’t mean she liked him, but that level of honesty was sufficient.

After that, she often told him lies. But there were moments when all of that didn’t matter.

“But in the rare joyful moments, you were always there, so this horrible world… somehow became bearable.”

A liar’s honesty is more precious than a saint’s words,

“So I, in this world full of things I hate… still liked you.”

A con artist’s true feelings were more thrilling than any victory report he had ever heard.

“So, who wouldn’t like you? Even if it’s not me,”

But once again, as he blocked those lips that effortlessly lied, Icarus decided to be deceived one more time. The girl he liked was an excellent con artist, and making someone fall for a lie even while knowing it was a lie was the mark of a truly talented con artist.

‘So it’s only fair that I lied to you.’

Icarus had told her many long lies. Just like she did. None of the things he said to her before she fell asleep were true.

“The human soul is stronger than you think, and nothing can push it away. But there is one thing in the world stronger than the human soul. That’s the heart of a dragon.”

If he had studied like this, he would have been the top student instead of Dietrich. With a haggard face, Bardi spoke, her hair tangled with book dust and oil. The royal family’s repository of ancient books, entrusted to the academy, could only be opened by the emperor. Bardi, the second daughter of the Bardi trading company, who had risked her life to enter such a place, approached him first.

“She didn’t explain it in detail since she’s about to die… But it’s not a physical illness, right? It’s a soul sickness. So, if we get that heart, we can do something, can’t we?”

It was more complicated than just an illness, but it seemed the girl he liked had put quite an effort into explaining her condition. Her habit of lying must have helped. Thinking this, Icarus read the ancient book Bardi had secretly taken from the repository. However, a dragon’s nest was a state secret even within the empire and wasn’t easy to find. And realistically, even if he found the location, he couldn’t defeat a dragon alone.

‘A soul sickness…’

At that moment, he thought of someone. Someone afflicted by a disease that rotted the soul rather than the body, someone who had been bedridden for a very long time.

The current emperor, who had delegated most imperial affairs to his crown prince brother and rarely showed his face unless it was a major event. Someone who needed to be saved, even if it meant killing a mystical creature.

“You’re finally doing something useful.”

His plan was to go to the dragon’s nest, obtain the heart, and cure the emperor’s illness. The empress seemed quite satisfied with this plan when she received the documents.

The second prince, setting off to cure the emperor’s incurable illness, looked good in appearance and, should he fail, the crown prince would remain safe, so what was there to lose? The words “you’re finally doing something useful” made Icarus briefly contemplate his utility.

“You’re going to that treacherous land to cure Father’s illness? Based solely on an unreliable ancient book and by yourself?”

Elius was furious. But he was the only one in the royal family who opposed the decision, so his objection didn’t significantly hinder Icarus’s journey. Moreover, Icarus’s task was actually more complicated. He had to venture into a dangerous land, return, steal the dragon’s heart intended for the emperor, and give it to her.

“So if I drink this… you’ll bring back that mana stone or whatever?”

“Of course.”

Naturally, he didn’t tell her it was the dragon’s heart but something ‘similar’ to a mana stone. The heart of a dragon? If he told her he was getting such a thing, her reaction would be obvious.

‘She would surely go wild and oppose it.’

That voice seemed to echo in his ears, making Icarus smile slightly. That was Icarus’s first lie.

“Please, I’m counting on you.”

“…Understood.”

When it came to time, no one was more of an expert than her other friend. At Icarus’s request to ‘pause someone’s time for a while,’ the eldest daughter of the Horatius family agreed surprisingly readily, without asking further questions.

“You’re not going to ask who it’s for or what it’s for?”

When he asked, feeling a bit deflated, the green-eyed student council president stared at him for a moment before replying,

“I’ll ask Dietrich directly. It’s unpleasant for someone else to convey messages between us.” 

Despite her audacious words, Irene, as always, performed her duties diligently. The potion that could stop the body’s time was a very repulsive-looking liquid.

“The color is quite suspicious.”

“That’s because all my magic power went into it. I admit it doesn’t look good since it’s not refined.”

Her response to his offhand comment left Icarus speechless. For the eldest daughter of a noble family, giving up her magic so easily was no small matter, even if she wasn’t the one to inherit the family business. When he asked why, the eldest daughter of the Horatius family didn’t answer.

“I’ll also speak directly to Dietrich about that. It’s not something for you to relay, Your Highness.”

That was Icarus’s second lie. The potion she was to drink was no ordinary magical elixir, nor was the period of sleep it induced merely a month.

“So don’t be too late. The only thing that can overcome human magic is dragon flesh.”

Disguised under the pretext of serving the empire and the emperor, Icarus thought as he set out to hunt the dragon. She’s going to be furious. She might even involve her friends and scold me, saying she’ll never see me again. But it didn’t matter as long as he succeeded.

Then, one day, Icarus succeeded in capturing the dragon. Before the news of his victory reached the royal family, he deviated from his route and disappeared somewhere.

The news that the second prince had captured a dragon and simultaneously stolen the tribute spread together. It was only natural that the empire was thrown into chaos.

“The prince has finally lost his mind and is rampaging.”

“He dared to risk my father’s life for a prank.”

Despite the royal family’s interrogation, Icarus never revealed where he had hidden the heart. Rumors circulated that the prince, who had wandered the battlefields from a young age, had finally gone mad.

In the end, the current emperor remained bedridden, the crown prince became the new emperor, and Icarus, condemned for his rebellion against the royal family, was banished from the empire without any contact from Heylem.

Four years passed.