Toxin

Suddenly, someone still lingering in the shadows was staring at us. Under the flickering light of the torch, a pair of red eyes gleamed. They were definitely looking this way. A sense of unease crept up, and I furrowed my brow. At that moment, a voice, deep and metallic, sliced through the darkness.

“I thought I’d damaged it so badly that you’d never be able to function as a man again, but it looks like I was wrong. I could tell because it was acting up from earlier, driving me crazy.”

As the figure’s outline became clear under the torchlight, a face appeared that I never wanted to see again, not even in a dream. The glint of long teeth gleamed in the dark.

“Well, how have you been? Pretty one?”

It was Orumun.

Orumun walked over and looked at my face under the light. His red eyes blazed with a revolting intensity. I had believed we’d never meet again, that there was no reason for us to ever cross paths. How…how is he here? Frozen, as if I’d been struck hard, he grabbed my hand. The touch alone made me want to vomit. When I shook him off harshly, Orumun quickly revealed his true nature.

“You filthy wretch…”

“What do you think you’re doing?! I specifically told you not to cause trouble!”

A familiar face suddenly appeared. It was the Imae Chieftain.

“If you pull a stunt like this again, I will cast you out.”

At his father’s harsh rebuke, Orumun clicked his tongue and released me. The Chieftain scolded Orumun with a stern gaze before turning his attention to me.

“He’s here to win the construction rights. As the head of the tribe, I can’t just sit back and look up at the sky while my people suffer from hunger.”

So Orumun had come along for that reason. Although the Imae Tribe had dwindled in size, he was still its heir. Orumun glanced furiously at the space where the Black Martial Emperor had disappeared, his anger simmering.

“Just thinking about cozying up to that man makes me sick. He looked like some laid-back idler earlier—why don’t we just bide our time and strike when the chance comes?”

“You fool! Don’t reveal your hostility so carelessly. If you let your guard down like that, you might get stabbed in the back.”

After scolding his hot-headed son, the Chieftain hastened his steps. Orumun, still displeased, threw a glance my way before following.

“They say the Black Martial Emperor doesn’t even treat the Imae Tribe like livestock, but from what I saw earlier, it’s not entirely true, is it?”

A chill crawled up my spine at the sight of his gleaming eyes, as if bugs were crawling across my skin. Once they disappeared into the shadows, Naro, who had been tense until now, grumbled.

“What was that all about? Why is that lunatic getting all riled up for no reason? I’ve never seen such a madman.”

We turned and continued walking. If they were here for the construction rights, that meant they’d be staying for a few more days. Orumun still thought I was here to steal Jincheonroe. Only the Chieftain and I knew the truth behind that. Sharing the same space with Orumun made me uneasy. As we rounded the corner, I could feel a persistent gaze drilling into the back of my head.

***

It hadn’t been long since my poor drawing skills were exposed. After dinner, I was forced to briefly visit Byeolwon due to Naro’s persistence. Naro kept pestering me to show him the portrait I’d been working on, so I finally relented and revealed the finished sketch. Naro looked as if he were in shock.

“Did you really draw this as a portrait? Am I seeing things? Is this a dream?”

Naro was trembling as he held up the sketch of the Black Martial Emperor, who was lying on a bed with a cigarette in his mouth. Though I knew that a formal portrait should depict the emperor in full ceremonial attire, seated on the dragon throne, the Black Martial Emperor had shown no intention of cooperating. Seeing him constantly napping whenever I visited the palace stirred up my defiance, so I sketched him exactly as he was during those visits. Whether he was lying down or standing on his hands, the Black Martial Emperor didn’t seem to care, so I decided to proceed with it as is. Naro was exasperated, claiming this would be a portrait for the history books. Another issue, however, wasn’t the drawing itself, but the materials I was using. Naro went on a long rant, even citing historical duties, and then lectured me on everything from the proper materials to the process and preservation methods. I felt bad, but I could hardly focus. Raonhiljo’s cold departure was still on my mind, and so was Orumun from earlier.

“You should at least use willow charcoal. And your ink, brush, paper, pigment—even the glue! All of it is cheap and unsuitable!”

“Is this really considered cheap? I thought I was being careful when I bought it.”

“Well, yes! The price varies, but some brushes can cost as much as an entire horse! While the materials aren’t everything, they are still important for producing a quality piece. There’s just so much to teach you—I don’t even know where to begin.”

We were still deep in discussion when a commotion erupted outside. Naro cracked the door open, and I peeked out as well. In the dim courtyard, a young painter was being cornered and sweating nervously. The one badgering him was Raonhiljo.

“Is he here? There’s nowhere else he could be.”

“C-could you tell me who exactly you’re looking for?”

“His name…his name, you say…? I don’t know. I’d love to call it out, but…ugh, just stop talking and bring him to me. He has two cute horns and beautiful purple eyes…”

Something felt off. Raonhiljo’s words were strangely drawn out, and his body swayed unlike his usual composed self. Just then, our eyes met.

“Ah, there you are.”

Raonhiljo patted the painter on the shoulder and stumbled toward me. Naro quickly shooed away the curious painters by recounting the Black Martial Emperor’s feat with the Yangwun Kingdom’s leader. In an instant, Byeolwon was silent. I never expected him to come here at such a late hour, and in this state of total inebriation, no less. After hesitating for a moment, I walked out onto the porch. Raonhiljo leaned on a pillar, then suddenly lost his balance and fell forward. Instinctively, I caught him, but the weight was too much, and we both collapsed onto the porch. The overpowering stench of strong alcohol hit me like a wave, engulfing my entire body.

“My lord, are you alright?”

“Ah, sorry. I don’t usually get this drunk… Something feels strange. I can’t control my body.”

He fixed his gaze on my face, then playfully blew air and smiled slightly.

“Can’t you hold me just once? If you did, I’d be so grateful… I’m an easy guy, you know…”

“…”

His voice was slightly slurred, almost like he was pouting. He must be very drunk. I needed to get him out of this position, whether by taking him to his room or helping him lie down. I placed my hands on his shoulders, trying to lift him. “My lord, just a moment—” Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the floor. His gaze pierced me, dark and deep like the night sky.

“I have the same dream every night.”

His unfocused eyes seemed lost in a hallucination.

“Every time I dream, a seductive man appears. He spreads his legs and begs me to take him.”

My heart started racing. I couldn’t fully comprehend what he was saying, but an ominous feeling crept over me, like I shouldn’t be hearing this. I tried to pull away. Just as I moved, he forcefully pinned my wrist down again and continued speaking lewd words with intense fervor.

“When he begs like that, I shove it into his hole and pound him like crazy. It’s so hot and wet inside, I never want to pull out. I do it again and again, filling him up over and over. Sometimes, he even takes my cock in his mouth, licking it clean with that red tongue of his.”

“My lord…!”

I felt something harden against my thigh, his arousal growing more intense. I pushed him away in alarm, but his overwhelming strength crushed me to the ground again, pinning my arms.

“When he holds my cock and licks it, I can’t help but push it in like a dog in heat. I thrust again and again, going wild and filling him up until I’m drained.”

“My lord, stop…!”

His body felt scalding hot against mine. His heavy breaths were like a suffocating blanket. I was trapped, helpless, as if I were being assaulted in some dark, closed-off space. I struggled, but he overpowered me every time. The strong smell of alcohol clouded my mind. Desperate for breath, I glared up at him, my voice cold.

“Stop this.”

“Every time I imagine you and Garon doing that, I want to run over and kill him. Why? Does it bother you when I say I want to kill Garon? Did you two do it again today? How many times? Did you enjoy it?”

I pushed him off again and managed to get up. He slammed me back down with force. His fiery eyes bore into mine.

“Answer me. Was it good?”

“My lor… mff… mmph…!”

Before I could protest, he crushed his lips onto mine. I tried to push him away, but his grip on my wrists held me still. His body pressed against me, burning hot. Raonhiljo’s lips moved hungrily, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth, sliding and twisting with aggression. His hips ground against mine, his hardness pressing uncomfortably. I twisted my body, trying to break free, but each movement only seemed to ignite him further. His tongue slid deeper, teasing, retreating, then diving back in, mimicking a more intimate rhythm. My breath came in short gasps.

“Mm… enough… my lord… stop…!”

“Ha… ha… ngh…”

Raonhiljo wasn’t himself. If this continued, things would spiral further out of control, and I didn’t even want to think about what might happen. Summoning the last of my strength, I shoved him off, barely managing to create some distance. We were both panting heavily, the tension thick between us. His eyes were ablaze with desire, but I didn’t back down, meeting his gaze fiercely.

“Stop now. Or this will be the last time you ever see me.”

His lips, still wet with spit, twisted into a bitter smile.

“Ah, you’re angry again. You must really hate me. Scowling, biting your lips, your eyes spitting ice. Every time you look at me like that… you have no idea how beautiful you are.”

His expression crumbled, eyes darkened with pain. The hands that had gripped me so fiercely now cupped my face gently. My breath came out in shaky pants, still reeling from everything that had happened. His gaze fell to the floor, hollow and broken. He pulled me into a desperate embrace, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

“I must’ve lost my mind.”

His wet lips grazed my neck, leaving a trail of warmth. Though his arousal still pulsed between us, he only pressed against me gently, as if struggling to hold back. The sensation of it against me made my body go rigid. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it all out. His lips trembled against my skin, then, all at once, he went still, the tension in his grip easing. Only the sound of his heavy breathing remained. The stars above blurred and shifted as I stared up at them, feeling lost. Slowly, I raised my hand and rested it on his broad back.

Raonhiljo was sorting out his feelings, coming to some kind of conclusion. I thought that by ignoring it, by letting time pass, things would resolve on their own. But what had he been thinking all this time? What had he been imagining, watching me from a distance? I had shared my body with the Black Martial Emperor countless times, but Raonhiljo could never know the full truth behind it. I couldn’t let him hold onto me. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Today, his scent was nowhere to be found.

***

Much later, Naro, who had given us space, finally returned. He saw Raonhiljo passed out and me, unsure of what to do. Gently, he suggested I help move Raonhiljo into the room. Together, we managed to drag him inside. After laying Raonhiljo down, I was at a loss. Naro recommended undressing him, so with his help, we stripped off Raonhiljo’s clothes. I considered returning to the stable to sleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Sitting on the porch, I spent the entire night awake. The mournful crowing of a rooster echoed in the dawn sky. As the first light of day touched the paper windows, Raonhiljo was already awake. His broad figure filled the small room. His appearance was disheveled, far from his usual pristine self. Rubbing his temples, still suffering from a hangover, he suddenly noticed me and froze. Despite his exhaustion, his features were still sharp and handsome. I set the breakfast tray before him.

“Did you sleep well? You don’t look great…”

His voice was hoarse, weighed down by the lingering effects of alcohol. I stared at him coldly.

“As if I could sleep.”

Raonhiljo fell silent, his gaze dropping to the food.

“You should eat too. You haven’t had any yet. Oh, are you avoiding cooked food?”

“I’m fine. I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.”

He glanced at me sideways, then let out a small sigh.

“Did I make many mistakes yesterday?”

“Yes.”

A deep crease formed on his brow. He seemed to remember faintly, but there wasn’t a trace of regret or apology. Raonhiljo was always like that. No matter how much of a mess he made, he never truly felt sorry. Or rather, I wanted to question whether it was a real mistake in the first place. I was once again struck by how thick the skin on that handsome face truly was. He met my gaze with an unreadable expression before giving a bitter smile.

“It’s probably better if I disappear. Let’s count this meal as done. Thanks. It was good.”

Raonhiljo grabbed his clothes nearby and headed straight out the door. I hated drunken ramblings. It was disgusting and unpleasant to know someone was imagining me in that way. I knew full well that, having once sold my body to survive, and now dreaming of revenge using that same body, this sense of cleanliness didn’t suit me—but what I hated, I hated.

Before his clothes completely left the doorway, I instinctively grabbed onto his sleeve. Raonhiljo furrowed his brows, perhaps thinking his clothes had snagged on the door, and turned around. Then his eyes widened as he realized it was my hand.

Though I hated it… I couldn’t understand why Raonhiljo didn’t disgust me. Why didn’t I feel repulsed? I had no idea. I pursed my lips pointlessly and looked at him.

“…I’m not angry. Please eat before you go. I prepared it early this morning.”

Raonhiljo’s eyes trembled noticeably, as if he were surprised, like receiving an unexpected gift. It reminded me of the day I gave him a flower. Ah, for some reason, I wanted to stroke his hair. I tugged lightly on his sleeve again, and Raonhiljo withdrew his hand from the doorknob and stepped back inside. Without a word, he sat quietly before the table. The urge to smooth down his tousled hair surged, but instead, I handed him a spoon. Raonhiljo accepted it without a word and began shoveling the soup into his mouth. He ate all the remaining food without complaint. I watched him quietly.

Raonhiljo was right. He truly was a simple man.

***

Evening had quickly arrived. I set out to draw a portrait of the Black Martial Emperor, and Naro, ever loyal, immediately followed. He didn’t forget to carry my things either. As we made our way toward the Emperor’s quarters, Naro suddenly hid behind me as if he’d encountered a grim reaper. Ahead of us stood Veronjubille, glaring at me. But today, she wasn’t alone. The voice beside her seethed with restrained fury.

“Mama, is it him? Of all the people His Majesty could choose, why that man? And to think he’s just some mongrel yokai…!”

“It’s truly infuriating! Just when I finally thought I could breathe freely after escaping the pressure of the Empress Mother…”

The women standing behind Veronjubille, who were just as beautiful, appeared prematurely worn down by the struggles of palace life. Were they the concubines who had fallen out of favor? Not long ago, they had all been rivals vying for the Black Martial Emperor’s affection, but now they stood united. The sight of it made me smile bitterly. Veronjubille fluttered her feathered fan and cast a coquettish glance my way.

“Shall I tell you something? His Majesty may be enchanted by your novelty for now, but once he tires of it, you’ll see just how cold he can be.”

“I’m well aware. I have the proof standing right in front of me.”

For a moment, Veronjubille’s expression hardened like plaster. The other concubines glared at me with hostility, but they didn’t dare attack. Naro, who was clinging to me, murmured in awe. Veronjubille’s pale face twitched under her mask of composure. Her gaze fell on the horns hidden within my hair.

“Fine. I’ll wait right here. When the time comes, we’ll share the spoils among us.”

I gave them a brief bow and turned my back. The hostility clawing at me from behind was palpable, but I took my steps neither hurriedly nor sluggishly.

Eventually, I entered the Black Martial Emperor’s chambers. He was absent, likely busy with the current construction project. I considered painting a portrait of Jincheonroe in the meantime, but I had a feeling he would return early today. I made some basic preparations and sat idly, waiting. My eyes wandered to a portrait of Jincheonroe hanging on the wall. After the Black Martial Emperor ascended the throne, the Baedal Kingdom’s power had been weakened. His first priority was to develop new iron weapons and armor, swiftly conquering neighboring countries. Many vassal states had sent spies to steal Baedal’s weapon and armor-making techniques, but all had been caught. Security had only tightened since then, and no one had succeeded in obtaining the secrets. Could I really accomplish that task?

I was so exhausted from lack of sleep that even sitting up was difficult. I lay down on the cold floor, the chill seeping into my cheek. I often had nightmares of being riddled with bullets fired by him. In my dreams, I would be painting Jincheonroe, only to have my hand severed by a flying sword. Other times, I’d lose my eyes or be beheaded, all while the Black Martial Emperor watched me with a terrifyingly emotionless expression.

I had only meant to rest for a moment, but I must have dozed off. My body felt heavy, caught between consciousness and unconsciousness. Faintly, I heard the door open and footsteps approaching. As a shadow fell over me, my lips were suddenly caught in something warm and wet. A long, slow kiss overwhelmed my senses, and it wasn’t until the soft, slippery feeling released me that I managed to regain awareness. I licked my lips, and a lazy voice followed.

“Why do you sleep so much? Are you unwell?”

A cold hand touched my cheek, searching for something. Failing to find it, the hand moved up, ruffling through my hair. Eventually, it found the horns hidden within and began toying with them. For a long time, the sharp tips were chewed and licked. My nerves tightened reflexively. Blinking through the hazy fog, I saw the familiar, striking face above me. He looked down at me, then rested his chin on my head and stretched out alongside me. Lowering my gaze, I finally spoke.

“Why did you deceive me about the painting remedy?”

“We’re even now, aren’t we?”

He casually tapped the side of my face. The same hand he had broken.

“Don’t feel too wronged. I gained something out of it.”

He spoke as if he already knew the result of the painting. But he shouldn’t have known. My face must have shown my confusion because the Black Martial Emperor simply said, “It was close enough,” and offered no further explanation. Then he slid his arms under my shoulders and waist. Suddenly, I found myself being flipped over and placed atop him. His hard muscles pressed uncomfortably against me, but I had grown so used to him making me sleep on top of him that I now found it oddly comforting. Without hesitation, I rolled off him onto the floor.

“You didn’t know, and being deceived intentionally are two different things. I was originally left-handed, and Your Majesty simply didn’t notice.”

“You’re the one who tried to read my mind with shallow tricks, weren’t you?”

“If you had told me you knew, I wouldn’t feel this way.”

“What kind of feeling?”

He grabbed my arm and waist again, trying to pull me onto his chest. I twisted my body with all my strength. As soon as my back hit the ground, he dove in to swallow my lips. I immediately turned my head. He gripped my chin and pried it open, forcing his tongue inside. I jerked my head again. For a moment, the warmth of his chest suddenly felt cold. His black eyes, piercing and full of fury, bore into me.

“What kind of punishment is this now, teacher?”

When I stubbornly avoided his gaze, he forcibly held my face in place.

“Try avoiding me again. If you want to see your eyes rolling on the floor, that is.”

His sharp gaze pinned me down like an insect, rendering me immobile. I froze my expression as I opened my mouth.

“You can call me a male concubine if you wish. Call me a mongrel, treat me like livestock—I don’t care. But please, no more… don’t mock me anymore. I can’t bear feeling like I’m being tested by Your Majesty every single moment.”

I didn’t mind if he used me as a tool of release, as Veronjubille suggested. It didn’t matter if he thought of me as just a toy. But the shame of being exposed like this, of having my secret intentions revealed, was unbearable. What had he deciphered from the painting? What was he thinking? The shame gnawed at me, more painful than being stripped and humiliated, more shameful than being forced to expose myself in front of him…! Just as my eyes, flushed with heat and anger, bore into him, his calm voice struck like an arrow.

“Raonhiljo left the drinking party early last night.”

“…!!”

Black Martial Emperor’s lips curled upward slightly.

“He went straight to his quarters, or so they say. Somehow, I don’t believe it. Is that just my imagination?”

The heat that had been raging in my head went ice cold in an instant. He laced his fingers with my left hand. The sensation was like being coiled by a snake, sending chills up my spine.

“If you’d like Raonhiljo to be served at tomorrow’s breakfast, then by all means, keep meeting him. I’ll personally prepare him for you—you can look forward to it.”

As he toyed with my fingers, his voice dropped ominously low.

“The meat will be good quality. Quite delectable.”

His tone was so chilling that it left my ears ringing. I knew all too well that he wasn’t just making idle threats. My heart pounded so hard it seemed to reverberate through the floor. To hide the sound, I bit my lip.

“I won’t paint him.”

I fought to suppress the tremor in my voice, pushing it down as far as I could.

“I’ll paint no one but Your Majesty. So please…”

Please, just leave him alone. My eyes, now clouded with fear, looked up at him. He stared down at me, then propped his elbows on either side of my face, completely trapping me. His chest, hard as stone, pressed down heavily, while his chilly breath washed over my face. He stared deeply into my eyes, lost in thought.

“Why don’t you have one? The Imae Tribe usually carries their names in their eyes.”

“That’s disgusting,” he muttered under his breath. The unexpected question abruptly halted the storm of thoughts racing through my head. I was relieved he hadn’t pursued the matter of Raonhiljo further, but I was now bewildered by this sudden turn. Was he trying to provoke some non-existent kinship for another pointless quarrel? I forced myself to respond.

“I never had one.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t permitted one at birth. For the Imae Tribe, the naming ceremony signifies full membership in the tribe.”

“I see. They’re a tightly-knit bunch.”

He seemed to grasp the situation without needing further explanation. I wasn’t allowed to have a name, and no one from the tribe would ever willingly bind their soul to a mongrel like me. And I didn’t particularly want one either. It wasn’t as simple as someone just giving me a name—it had to be given wholeheartedly, and I had to sincerely accept it for it to truly mean something and be engraved in my eyes. But this talk of the Imae Tribe’s naming ceremony… nothing he said could ever be taken at face value. Although I was glad we had moved away from the previous dangerous subject, a vague sense of unease gnawed at me.

“So no one has ever offered to name you? No one?”

Caught off guard once again, I couldn’t find the words. Nervously biting my lip, I searched my memories for an answer. I vaguely recalled Orumun, and a few members of the Imae Tribe who had jokingly offered to give me a name when I lived in the village. Should I count Veronjubille too? And then, my mother… the day she promised to name me had been the happiest day of my life—and the most cruel. My anger melted away, replaced by a dull ache as I stared blankly at the ceiling.

“No one has.”

A heavy silence followed. I couldn’t see his face, so I had no idea what expression he wore. My tightly shut lips finally parted.

“I see.”

Again, the silence. It felt like the oppressive stillness of a tomb, suffocating me. As I stared at the hazy ceiling, I suddenly remembered something I hadn’t yet said.

“Painter would be delighted. He never expected Your Majesty to agree… he was surprised.”

I paused for a moment, swallowing my words before pushing out the rest.

“Thank you…”

The Black Martial Emperor shoved his fingers into my mouth, playing with my tongue. A slick sensation filled the space, and his pupils darkened with intensity.

“It would be wise to use this tongue only for me, no matter what purpose.”

After pulling my tongue out with his hand, he bit down gently and teasingly licked the captured tip. A shiver shot up my spine, and my eyelashes fluttered involuntarily. His grip tightened on my jaw, forcing my mouth open, and he hastily thrust his tongue inside, intertwining it with mine. His hardness pressed against my thigh, revealing his growing arousal. His saliva-coated hand slid beneath my clothes, teasing the sensitive skin of my nipples. I quickly retracted my tongue and turned away from his lips. The Black Martial Emperor bit down softly on the tip of my nipple, circling it with his tongue. The delicate skin hardened under his attention.

His rough hand gripped my hips before sliding into my pants, spreading the flesh as he thrust his fingers into the hidden entrance. He moved quickly, and I used all my strength to push him away. This time, he tried to pull me on top of him, wrapping his arms around my waist. I twisted out of his grasp, though my upper body remained trapped in his strong arms. Despite his lust-filled, bloodshot eyes, I refused to yield.

“Be a good student and let me touch you.”

A shadow loomed over me as his presence overwhelmed me.

***

In the end, the Black Martial Emperor satisfied his desires twice. Leaving only a warning to wait, he exited the room. I had heard that he hardly had time to sleep, and it seemed there was no exaggeration in that. Taking advantage of his absence, I tried to sketch Jincheonroe, but a bad feeling loomed over me today, so I decided against it. Sitting alone in the empty room, waiting for him, I couldn’t stand the suffocating atmosphere and slipped out for a brief moment. This time, I genuinely intended to catch some fresh air and return. The palace was alive with festivities, celebrating the arrival of the vassal states. Though the vassal states acted submissive on the surface, I was sure the Black Martial Emperor was well aware that they hid daggers behind their backs. Even now, he was probably drinking calmly amidst enemies who could turn hostile at any moment.

What does he fear? Does he even have emotions…? A sudden chill crept up my spine, and I hugged my arms. I had set out to clear my mind, but it only became heavier. Ignoring the Emperor’s warning to wait was not an option this time. As I made my way back to the palace, someone lightly tapped my shoulder. It was the Chieftain. There was a faint scent of alcohol, likely from the banquet he had just left. Glancing around cautiously, the Chieftain led me to a secluded corner. The maze-like architecture of the palace made it a perfect place to hide, and we spoke in hushed voices.

“The

still needs more work.”

“More work?”

“It’s impossible to steal Jincheonroe itself. Security is too tight, and the location of the artillery room is completely unknown. The artillerymen seem to be specially trained and rarely exposed. The Black Martial Emperor has one in his quarters for decoration, but he’d notice immediately if it went missing. Instead, I’ll sketch its details as best I can.”

That was the safest and most feasible course of action for now.

“True. Even earlier, they searched me thoroughly as I entered the banquet. If you can finish it before I leave the palace, I couldn’t ask for more.”

“I can’t promise that. The risk of being caught is too high since they search every visitor. For now, I’ll copy down everything I can and think of a safer plan.”

“Understood. Be careful.”

Though concerned, the Chieftain didn’t push further.

“How long do you plan to stay here?”

“Unless they kick me out, I’ll remain for about six more days. Though whether I’ll walk out of here in one piece is another question. I came without much thought, but there’s no chance of securing land rights. Again, they’ve arranged for me to stay in the stables, among the most expensive horses.”

The Chieftain clenched his fists, attempting to suppress his frustration. It must be agonizing to lower himself before the one responsible for annihilating his homeland, even if it’s to save his starving people. Building Black Martial Emperor’s kingdom on the stolen land adds to that torment. But as that jester said, a nation and its king are useless if their people starve.

The Chieftain glanced at me with a peculiar expression.

“But he’s changed a lot since you first arrived. The Black Martial Emperor, I mean. Yesterday, I was quite surprised.”

Was that so? There had been changes, certainly, but his unpredictability remained unchanged. I offered no response. The Chieftain cleared his throat before speaking again.

“Have there been any signs?”

I knew exactly what he meant.

“I’m not sure. Not yet…”

“I’ve secretly investigated Imae’s poison. I can’t say for sure how long it will take, but once the venom reaches the nerves, the muscles start to paralyze. Then the internal organs are damaged, leading to blood vomiting until the heart eventually stops. There’s no clear diagnosis or cause. And since it doesn’t show much externally, even the victim themselves might not know until their heart stops.”

I repeated the Chieftain’s words in my mind. A deadly venom that silently eats away at flesh and cells, leaving a clean corpse behind. Could the Black Martial Emperor’s recent paralysis have been the first sign that Imae’s poison was taking effect? If so, then the next stage would be… blood vomiting? As these thoughts consumed me, the Chieftain suddenly glanced at my head.

“Is that some new kind of fashion accessory?”

“No. The Black Martial Emperor found my white horns unsightly, so I’ve been hiding them like this.”

When the Black Martial Emperor first openly showed his disdain for my horns and eyes, I’d wrapped my hair around them to hide them temporarily. Since then, it became a habit, and I kept this ridiculous hairstyle ever since.