Chapter 49
Late at night.
Dante Veratis slipped out onto the terrace to escape the relentless pestering of his guild members.
Leaning against the railing, he let out a long sigh. For a moment, he considered lighting a cigarette—then stopped himself.
It had already been three years since he quit. And yet, the reason it suddenly came to mind tonight was obvious.
He had seen Lycian again.
That infuriating, perpetually irritated face.
‘Still doesn’t approve, I see.’
A faint smirk tugged at Dante’s lips as he leaned back against the railing and looked up at the night sky.
He had traveled all over the world, but the sky above his head was always the same.
‘So many stars….’
The scattered starlight embroidered the deep indigo sky, breathtakingly beautiful.
It looked exactly like the sky the night he and Lycian had fought and parted ways.
Old memories surged in, crashing through Dante’s mind like a wave.
‘Are you seriously going to do this?’
‘It’s my life. Stay out of it.’
‘Dante Luminous!’
‘Don’t call me that.’
Back when he was eighteen—brash, burning with youth—Dante had found himself thinking something.
He wanted to be free. Free from everything that bound him.
So he made plans to slip away in the dead of night.
And he carried them out.
But something he hadn’t anticipated happened.
‘Dante, what are you doing?’
‘…Damn.’
‘Of all people, I had to run into Lycian.’
They had grown up together, like brothers. And now one of them was trying to abandon everything and run.
It was only natural that Lycian would feel betrayed.
‘Master said he’d name you his successor. And you’re running away? Are you out of your mind?’
‘Yeah, I am. I’m sick of all of it. The weight of the debt I owe him—it’s so heavy I can’t even breathe!’
That night, they fought viciously, dragging up years of buried emotions.
In the end, Lycian told him to do whatever he wanted—and let him go.
The friendship they had built over years collapsed like a sandcastle.
All that remained were the wounds they’d left on each other.
But that had been over five years ago.
Surely the resentment had faded by now.
If Lycian still hated the sight of him, there had to be another reason.
‘He’s worried I’ll report back on him, isn’t he?’
A sneer curled at Dante’s mouth.
There was something close to self-loathing in that cynicism.
The desire for a life unbound by anyone or anything—he and Lycian were exactly the same in that regard.
‘That’s right….’
They should be.
And yet—
“What the hell happened…?”
Seeing Lycian appear at the banquet with Muriel had left Dante thoroughly shaken.
He’d heard a brief account from Mikhail, but witnessing it with his own eyes was something else entirely.
‘Lycian looking at someone like that? I’ve never seen it. Not once.’
Unless he was glaring at someone in suspicion, his gaze was always on Muriel.
He watched her every movement with meticulous care, trying to attend to her every need.
And that wasn’t all. The way he hovered around her, overprotective as if she were a newborn infant—it bordered on pathological.
They even… wore matching rings.
Even now, thinking about it, Dante frowned and tilted his head in disbelief.
‘What on earth did she do to him to turn him into that?’
He had investigated, just in case. But Muriel Tierney didn’t seem to possess any ability to bewitch others.
Which meant Lycian was by her side entirely of his own will.
Circling her like a dog with separation anxiety, unable to stand being apart from its owner even for a moment.
‘At first, I thought he was planning to use whatever ability she had.’
But clearly, that wasn’t it.
He had been completely wrong.
Well, it wasn’t in Lycian’s nature to deceive and exploit people.
“He’s got a terrible personality, but…”
As Dante muttered to himself, a crow fluttered down beside him.
He didn’t look particularly surprised as he held out his hand.
With a flap of inky black wings, the crow landed neatly on the back of his hand.
“Master, finished reconnaissance. Gathered intel. Require gemstone.”
“Yeah, good work. You’ll get your gem. What is it?”
“Roblet King showing interest in newly emerged dungeon. Concerned Winterberg family growing stronger. Summoned Tierney family. Suspicious.”
“I expected that.”
It wasn’t unusual for the Roblet Royal Family and the Tierney family to collude for mutual gain.
Recently, there had even been talk of a marriage between Juliet, the second daughter of the Duke of Tierney, and the crown prince.
It seemed the Roblet King had decided to pull the Tierney family fully onto his side.
The troublesome Winterberg, however, remained a target of the king’s wariness.
“Next intel true diamond-grade. Guaranteed.”
Seeing Dante’s lack of reaction, the crow—Nigel—flapped his wings insistently.
Dante knew Nigel was a fussy bird, but moments like this inevitably triggered his avian allergies.
Cough, cough!
He clenched his free hand into a fist and covered his mouth as he coughed.
Nigel awkwardly folded his wings.
“Master, should take allergy medicine.”
“I’ll take it later…. What’s this diamond-grade intel?”
Ahem! Nigel cleared his throat like a person before speaking again.
“Philome Empire personnel crossed sea. Unofficial visit. Secret meeting with Roblet King. Could not hear conversation. Apologies.”
“Philome Empire…?”
The Philome Empire had long been an invader, constantly eyeing this land.
There had been countless wars, large and small. The southern kingdoms that had suffered the worst all but hated the Empire.
The Roblet Kingdom was no exception.
And yet the current king’s stance was strange.
‘I can’t tell what he’s thinking. …Or maybe it’s simpler than that?’
Sometimes real-life villains were more brutish and straightforward than those in stories.
The Roblet King was a man of extreme greed, obsessed with profit. Judging by his past actions, personal gain mattered more to him than national interest.
As a result, the suffering of his people worsened year by year. Public sentiment had hit rock bottom.
Meanwhile, territories that had secured a degree of autonomy—like Winzheim in the Winterberg ducal lands—weren’t faring too badly.
‘That’s why there are so many migrants in every city and village.’
The Winterberg territory was vast. It could still support plenty more people.
And people meant labor.
For a lord, that was something to welcome.
‘No wonder the Duke of Winterberg is a thorn in the king’s side.’
The crow hopped on the back of Dante’s hand, urging him on.
“Well? Useful, yes? Gemstone! Give gemstone!”
“Alright, you little menace.”
If a “gemstone dungeon” ever appeared, Nigel would be the first to celebrate.
Dante took several diamonds from his purse and tossed them into the air.
“D-d-d-diamonds…!!”
Overwhelmed, the crow opened his beak wide, eyes bulging.
But he didn’t freeze. Nigel leapt up swiftly, snatching every single diamond out of the air.
“Thank you! Thank you, Master!”
After flying off to stash the gems safely in his hideout, Nigel returned and landed softly on Dante’s shoulder.
Then he hesitated, glancing sideways.
“Master, should I wait outside?”
He was worried about Dante’s allergies.
Dante snorted and patted the crow’s head.
“No. Let’s go in together. They’ll be happy to see you.”
And so the two headed back to the banquet hall.
When they arrived, the party was still in full swing.
Dante wanted a drink himself, but he was holding back with all his strength. If he got drunk, there was no telling what might happen.
Just then, a guild member spotted them and grinned.
“Oh! Look who it is! The genius crow, Nigel!”
“It’s Nigel~!”
Nikke came running over, brimming with excitement.
In her hand was a chicken skewer.
She stopped short, glancing between the skewer and the crow.
Then she looked at Nigel with a mournful expression and muttered,
“Sorry….”
…For what?
“Oh great Nigel, who blesses our gambling-addicted Guild Master with the agony of avian allergies….”
The one staggering over, mumbling that, was Mikhail.
For someone who usually drank in moderation, he was shockingly plastered. His face was flushed red, his eyes completely unfocused.
Cradling a massive slice of avocado in both hands, Mikhail dropped to his knees.
“I offer to Lord Nigel… the avocado our Guild Master hates most in this world…!!”
‘He’s completely lost it….’
Dante shook his head.
Soon the other guild members joined in, trying to present Nigel with various offerings.
All of them things Dante despised.
In the middle of the chaos, Nigel leaned toward Dante’s ear and whispered,
“Master. Your companions not sane.”
“…….”
Still… they’re not bad people.
When I opened my eyes in the morning, a splitting headache assaulted me.
“Ugh…”
Letting out a strangled groan, I sat up, clutching my forehead with one hand.
The room spun instantly.
A proper hangover.
“Urgh….”
“Muriel, you’re awake?”
I had my eyes squeezed shut, trying to endure the pain, when I sensed someone approaching—then heard Lycian’s voice.
And… something cool, sharp, and refreshing in the air.
“…?”
Blinking, I lifted my head.
Lycian stood there, holding a tray.
From the white porcelain bowl resting on it, pale steam curled gently upward.