Monsters Wag Their Tails Only at Me

The emotions that had been simmering the entire time felt like they were about to erupt like a dragon’s flames.

Every time I looked at Margon’s missing right arm, it felt like my insides were twisting and burning me alive. And now he was even calling a person a toy.

The composure I had barely been holding together shattered, and my breathing turned ragged.

I had nearly drowned just yesterday, yet the reckless part of me that rushed toward death was already starting to rear its head again—

“Even with just one arm, I am more than capable of guarding Lord Ceryl.”

Margon cut in first, his voice bleak.

As if he were used to Phiren’s inhumane treatment, he did not waver in the slightest.

Strangely, it was Phiren’s eyes that flickered at Margon’s flat response. His gaze narrowed with displeasure.

“Wait. Wasn’t there one more?”

Not one—one person.

I swallowed the words rising to my throat and answered, my voice steadier thanks to Margon.

“Leobin... is dead.”

“What? That blond brat is dead?”

I had barely managed to say it, yet Phiren reacted unusually strongly.

He shot upright from the sofa, where he had been lounging lazily the entire time.

That reaction clearly meant I had struck a nerve. I watched his expression carefully and spoke with deliberate emphasis on each word.

“Yes. Leobin is definitely dead.”

“Are you absolutely certain... no, how... how exactly did he die?”

Phiren couldn’t believe that Leobin was dead.

Right. Because Leobin had been bound by that cursed magic—whatever it was—that wouldn’t even let him die as he wished.

This was the reason Varen and I had come all the way to the Aylos house. To dig up the secret Phiren was hiding, I began tossing out bait one piece at a time.

“I killed him myself.”

“...Why?”

“Leobin betrayed me and tried to attack me.”

The lie, completely different from the truth, deceived Phiren perfectly.

His mouth fell open, his eyes flooding with shock. Cold sweat formed on his pale face, and his gaze drifted aimlessly through the air.

I didn’t miss his reaction as I pressed him further into a corner.

“I apologize for saying this, but... it seems the magic placed on Leobin may have failed.”

“N-no. That can’t be. Damn it... this is a disaster.”

Phiren sprang to his feet, visibly agitated.

That anxious reaction. And the word disaster.

It seemed Phiren had firmly believed that the death magic was a complete success.

I recalled the contents of the last letter he had sent. He had clearly said the toy was nearly ready.

“Uncle, please calm down. You said it was still in preparation—”

“I already reported everything to the king while you were out of contact!”

Ah. So he’s already spoken with King Laskar.

Phiren had spent years currying favor with the king, trying to gain his trust.

Secure a position close to him, then seize an opportunity to obtain a Dravergh’s heart.

He must have earned tremendous favor by presenting this death magic. Only now did Phiren’s panicked reaction make sense.

As I nodded quietly, Phiren dropped back onto the sofa with a rough motion.

Then, unable to contain his anger, he slammed his fist into it.

“Ceryl, you idiot! Because you weren’t here, I couldn’t carry out a proper experiment!!”

“...What?”

The sudden accusation left me stunned.

Phiren had discarded his gentle façade entirely, glaring at me with burning eyes.

“If you’re not here, how am I supposed to confirm whether it’s loyal to its master?!”

Phiren shouted, veins standing out in his neck. But the more agitated he became, the calmer I felt.

What exactly did that mean? That I had to be present to confirm loyalty to the master?

The magic cast on Leobin bound his very death to his master.

Of course, it was the most horrific thing imaginable for the one under the spell—but it was just as much of a curse for the other side.

Just as Leobin had tried to protect me with his life, I would have had to share my vitality if he were injured. That was the price of gaining a guard who would defy death.

Which meant, to confirm whether the magic functioned properly, the master had to be placed in danger.

Even so... we were still blood relatives.

Phiren had truly made full use of Ceryl.

As my thoughts reached that point, I became even more curious about King Laskar’s intentions.

Who exactly was this army of the dead meant to protect? It was a magic with enormous risk—there was no way he would use it on himself.

“Damn it... I’ll have to speak with Horace first thing tomorrow. I need to find out what went wrong.”

Phiren shot to his feet again. He hurried toward the exit of the sitting room, then suddenly stopped and turned back.

“Ceryl, come down to the basement at first light tomorrow.”

His cold voice issued the order. I nodded in agreement.

His pounding footsteps gradually faded. A harsh sound followed as the door to his bedroom opened and shut.

Only after he disappeared completely from sight did I let out a breath of relief. My shoulders and the back of my neck, stiff with tension, ached.

As I cracked my neck from side to side in fatigue, Margon—standing behind me—grabbed my shoulder with a hand like a pot lid.

I tilted my head back to look at him. The face that had been stiff like a wooden doll in front of Phiren was now soaked in anger.

“I want to kill that bastard... with my own hands.”

Margon ground his teeth and muttered lowly.

Phiren had been a figure of fear to Ceryl—and a sworn enemy to Margon.

Not only had he cursed and killed his closest friend, now he was threatening the master Margon had sworn to protect with his life.

I tapped the back of Margon’s hand lightly in reassurance.

“Alright. When the time comes, I’ll leave him to you.”

“...Thank you, Lord Ceryl.”

Though I have no idea when that time will come.

For now, tomorrow morning would once again be a turning point where I had to stake my life.

***

Margon returned to the annex where the guards stayed. I headed toward Ceryl’s room—the one I had seen in his memories.

At the end of the second-floor corridor, I stopped in front of the bedroom door.

For a moment, I hesitated.

Ceryl’s emotions, still unfamiliar to me, began to surge again. The body, soaked in fear and aversion, was afraid to enter this room.

My right hand trembled. I grabbed it with my other hand, only then managing to grasp the doorknob.

The bedroom inside looked exactly as it had in my memories. Plain wallpaper, worn furniture. A modest single wardrobe—that was all.

The only thing that eased my breathing was the large window. Blue moonlight poured in through the wide glass.

Letting out a tired breath, I naturally moved toward the desk. As I sat in the creaking wooden chair, Ceryl’s memories and emotions seemed to grow even more vivid.

The young Ceryl had spent most of his time here. Reading history books or old magic texts his uncle had permitted him, studying alone.

Sometimes, on days when the anxiety became unbearable, he wrote letters.

As a child, the recipients were his parents he longed for. As an adult, he addressed them to unknown people, pleading for rescue.

In the end, that letter reached me. That desperate plea—please help me—had brought me into this world.

Ceryl must have chosen me because we shared similar experiences and emotions.

Granting peace through death to magical creatures suffering in pain that could not be healed.

That was no different from the euthanasia I had performed countless times as a veterinarian in my previous world.

And the last animal I euthanized...

...was Berry, the dog who had been my only family for eighteen years.

The day I sent Berry off with my own hands, I felt the greatest despair and sorrow of my life.

I had wanted to abandon everything and follow after him.

“Ha...”

Now that I was alone, all the painful memories—both Ceryl’s and mine—rose to the surface at once.

I pressed hard against my burning eyes. I wanted to stop crying, but lately the tears came too easily.

I stood from the chair and walked toward the large window. I needed air—anything to ease the suffocating feeling.

I threw the window open and looked up at the full moon shining as brightly as ever.

A cold night breeze from the forest tousled my hair. Even indoors, the chill made my shoulders tremble.

Staring blankly at the moon, I murmured a name that had already become a habit.

“Varen...”

“I’m here.”

The answer came immediately.

Startled out of my mind, I turned toward the voice—only to see Varen floating in the air, as if he had been there all along.

Had he learned it from Noance already? His silent appearance shocked me so much I couldn’t even scream.

My breath hitched, and I could barely move my lips.

“H-hey... you... scared me...”

As I spoke in a broken voice, Varen lightly vaulted through the window and stepped inside.

“Why are you so startled? You’re the one who called me.”

As Varen approached, warmth replaced the cold night air.

Still chilled to the bone, I was drawn into his arms as if pulled by a magnet.

My heart, which had seemed to stop from the shock, began pounding rapidly again.

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