* * *

“Your Highness, we will remain here.”

Outside Yigang’s bedchamber, Asel, Anna, and Philip stood guard by the door, their posture unwavering.

Their silent message was clear: call upon them at any moment if anything were to happen—they wouldn’t leave their post.

Without a word of response, Yigang entered the room.

Inside, sprawled on the spacious bed, was Dowoon, his breaths shallow and labored.

“Your Highness, you’re here.”

Cedric, who had been waiting, quickly approached Yigang and bowed.

“How is he?”

“Reggie and Blue attempted healing magic, but it has made little difference. None of us specialize in healing magic, so there’s not much more we can do. However, with the assistance of the Wizard Tower, we might have a chance.”

Cedric, who had served Yigang for many years, knew well his master’s disdain for the Wizard Tower.

Yet his bringing it up underscored just how dire Dowoon’s condition had become.

Of course, Yigang had not placed much hope in Cedric, a barrier specialist, or Reggie and Blue, who specialized in offensive and defensive magic, to resolve the issue through healing magic.

But he had allowed the attempts, just in case—only to be met with disappointment.

However, it wasn’t just the wizards in the room. A group of individuals clad in white coats had gathered around Dowoon, monitoring his condition.

“Who are they?” Yigang asked, gesturing toward them.

“Physicians who have come forward to examine him. Yet none have brought hopeful news thus far.”

The prospect of curing Dowoon, favored by the Crown Prince, was an obvious stepping stone to royal favor—a golden path to success.

This realization fueled the physicians’ determination to save him.

“Has anyone among them identified the poison?”

“No, Your Highness.”

“And you?”

Despite the lack of answers from the numerous physicians, Yigang appeared unperturbed as he repeated the question to Cedric.

After a brief pause, Cedric raised his eyes to his master, cautious.

“Forgive my presumption, Your Highness, but… it appears that this poison is—”

“Enough. That will do.”

Yigang cut him off, signaling for a knight to open the door.

He was well aware that he wasn’t the only one concerned about Dowoon’s condition.

When the door opened, Asel, Anna, and Philip cautiously stepped into the room.

Yigang’s gaze, sweeping over the crowd now filling his bedchamber, was far from welcoming.

He had little patience for their incompetence—none of them had identified the cause, let alone found a solution.

It wasn’t their fault, of course.

The poison was derived from Aquila, a plant long prohibited from cultivation and distribution.

Only those privy to the royal family’s secret poison garden would even know of its existence.

In truth, it would have been stranger if someone had recognized it.

Still, to not even suspect…

“Useless. Every one of them.”

Yigang’s icy remark spread through the silence.

Behind him, Anna, Philip, and Asel grew visibly tense, gauging their lord’s mood.

“If I intervene myself, I could at least do better than these worthless fools.”

The moment those words left his mouth, the three exchanged panicked glances and sprang into action.

“Your Highness, you mustn’t!”

“If you use your powers now, it will arouse suspicion. Too many people are aware of Dowoon’s condition.”

Philip and Anna hurriedly voiced their concerns.

If Dowoon’s condition were to improve suddenly through Yigang’s intervention, questions would undoubtedly arise—questions that could lead to the revelation of Yigang’s secret.

No one knew he could wield dark magic, and it had to remain that way.

Thus, any form of direct involvement was deemed inappropriate.

“So I’m just supposed to stand here and do nothing? Let him suffer?”

Yigang’s voice carried a cutting edge, his frustration bleeding through.

The silence that followed from those around him only served to affirm his unspoken question.

As he gazed at Dowoon, surrounded by a flurry of useless efforts, Yigang was gripped by an unfamiliar sense of helplessness.

For the first time, he felt powerless—a feeling foreign to someone who had always bent the world to his will.

‘Should I just kill them all…?’

In the past, he had held back, not wanting to show his cruel side to Dowoon—or, at times, because Dowoon had stopped him.

For Yigang, who was accustomed to eliminating nuisances without hesitation, this had been an exercise in patience.

At that moment, a knock came at the open door.

Anna was the first to see who it was, and her face reflected her surprise.

She quickly reported to Yigang.

“Your Highness, the Third Prince has arrived.”

Yigang turned his head. Ian approached, his expression calm and composed as usual.

“Your Highness, I’d like to speak with you.”

“Later.”

Ian, wasting no time, got straight to the point, but Yigang cut him off coldly, his disinterest plain.

“It’s about Dowoon.”

“…Make it brief.”

The mention of Dowoon caused an immediate shift in Yigang’s demeanor, though his gaze carried a dangerous warning—any nonsense would not be tolerated.

“May I ask for some privacy?” Ian requested.

Yigang dismissed those around him with a glance, leaving only the two of them in the room. Ian began to speak.

“I am here to offer my help, Your Highness.”

Yigang didn’t respond immediately, his expression signaling he would hear him out—nothing more.

“My holy power. I know that Dowoon has been transferring it to you.”

“…What?”

Yigang’s expression stiffened, his violet eyes narrowing sharply.

“I’ve known for some time. But I have no intention of taking it back. I’m here to assist.”

“…You?”

“Yes.”

“To help me?”

“…Yes.”

Yigang’s tone was incredulous, bordering on mocking.

Yet, Ian found relief in the fact that it wasn’t as outright hostile as it might have been with others.

“Why?”

“Because Dowoon said I would become someone great someday.”

“Ridiculous.”

Yigang let out a derisive laugh.

He had always been this kind of person.

Someone who never listened to others, who would throw someone into a dungeon—or kill them outright—if they so much as annoyed him.

How bad must it have been for rumors of his dreadful personality to spread even overseas?

Yet, everything changed after Dowoon came into his life.

The people who used to tremble in terror, bowing hurriedly whenever Yigang merely passed by, no longer flinched at the sight of him. It was a remarkable transformation.

As if his past had never existed, Yigang’s terrifying reputation was quickly buried under the presence of Dowoon.

But what if Dowoon were to die?

The crown prince, already on edge, would undoubtedly return to his former ways.

And it would be far worse than before—beyond anything anyone could imagine.

Everyone could predict such a future.

If Dowoon truly lost his life, it was as good as certain.

“I intend to prove it, so that my words won’t be dismissed as nonsense.”

Yigang fell silent for a moment at Ian’s firm voice, which carried a weighty sincerity.

There was no reason for Ian to go out of his way for Dowoon.

At most, they had appeared friendly for a short while.

But in truth, wasn’t it Dowoon who had clung to Ian, intent on using him?

Even Ian himself was well aware of that.

As someone with a special ability, Ian would naturally be sensitive about his powers.

There was no way Dowoon, who had drained his strength, could be seen favorably in Ian’s eyes.

So why was he so determined to save Dowoon?

Yigang couldn’t understand.

“Your Highness, please let me see Dowoon.”

Perhaps because there was no response, Ian’s voice sounded even more desperate as he spoke again.

“And how am I to know you won’t seek revenge after Dowoon stole your power?”

“I am not like the second prince. I do not covet the throne, nor do I have any other ambitions. Surely Your Highness knows this better than anyone.”

Ian’s sharp follow-up cut through the air. It was aimed at the physicians fussing over Dowoon.

This was uncharacteristic of Ian, who usually spoke with utmost courtesy.

Yigang let out a short laugh.

He hadn’t realized Dowoon had so many black knights willing to protect him.

Ian, true to his word, had shown no interest in power since childhood.

He had always spent his days studying herbs, dreaming of becoming a herbalist.

“If you try anything foolish, I’ll break your arms.”

At last, Yigang spoke. Ian’s lips curled into a soft smile.

“Feel free to. I’ll gladly offer you both arms.”

* * *