MHHC Chapter 116

White Serpent

Mikhail, who'd been running his fingers through disheveled hair, released a hollow laugh just as he was opening the door to his office.

No wonder the chamberlain had hesitated when he'd ordered no one admitted.

"Crown Prince, Your Highness."

At the voice calling him again, Mikhail lifted his gaze from where it had sunk toward the floor.

Even in the darkness, luminous green eyes steadily regarded the head of the man kneeling before him.

The only light in that space was the thin sunlight pouring through gaps in the curtains.

"I have done as you commanded... Please, keep your promise."

Joachim suppressed his ragged breathing and spoke with composure.

Though this was a darkness he faced routinely every night, whenever he entered this room, his throat always constricted strangely. Hallucinations came frequently.

As if something crawling on the floor climbed his entire body to throttle his neck... Was it a white serpent? Or hands?

"..."

Joachim couldn't even think to wipe the cold sweat streaming down as he bowed his head again.

What mattered to him now wasn't serpents or hands. His only sister Nadia's life hung by a thread, growing more withered by the moment yet still beautiful...

Joachim wet his dry lips with his tongue and pleaded again.

"When Your Highness first came to me, you said I would be... useful. Please free my sister from suffering as you promised."

"..."

"As Your Highness desired... the testimony, testimony... Please, there is no time to delay like this... Remember that my sister is frail, and has already faced crisis so many times..."

"..."

"Your Highness, O Morig, please..."

"..."

"Please, show mercy..."

The longer Mikhail's silence stretched, the more Joachim's demands transformed—from request to plea, from entreaty to begging.

Mikhail twisted his lips at the head drawing close as if ready to lick even his boot.

In truth, such desperate groveling was merely amusing.

To have thrown good family, brilliant future, splendid bloodline—everything—into the gutter of betrayal. What was a woman's life worth, to desire it so desperately?

"P-please... Your servant... b-begs you thus..."

Separate from finding that base desire not particularly unpleasant, the assessment that he remained uniformly foolish and tedious never changed.

Mikhail, who'd been regarding that head indifferently, pressed his shoe deliberately against the back of Joachim's hand on the floor.

"Hngh... ack!"

The sound of bone and flesh being crushed this way and that came from beneath the shoe.

What Mikhail stood upon was the right hand, supposedly more precious to a knight than life itself.

Yet unable even to consider resistance, the form that merely squirmed like an insect when stepped on was tedious and ridiculous.

"..."

He leaned forward and gripped Joachim's jaw with long fingers, lifting it.

The panting human's breath poured out repulsively. Tear-soaked eyes gazed at him desperately, filled with blind hope.

Eyes seeking a god, or a savior. Mikhail opened his mouth while wearing a picture-perfect smile.

"I will of course keep our bargain. Your sister has already been freed from the suffering that constricted her life."

"T-truly, Your Highness?"

"Yes. So feel free to return to your household with an easy heart."

"Th-thank you, thank you... I will never forget this g-grace..."

"You should hurry and go instead of doing this with me. Your sister must be anxiously waiting for you."

In your hell. Mikhail swallowed the words as a final mercy. Joachim, who'd bowed his forehead to the ground several times, hurried from the room clutching his right hand.

Watching that retreating form, Mikhail approached the window with a crooked smile. Standing and gripping the curtain, he saw the palace landscape submerged in the setting sun beyond the window.

Everything was flowing according to plan. Sweet fruit piled meticulously from decades—no, hundreds of years ago—was finally on the verge of ripening.

Even the emotions 'Adelheid' felt... were results tuned with extreme delicacy from the distant past. So nothing could be better than this.

'...Why do I feel so filthy?'

Recalling again that docile face nestled obediently in 'his' embrace made his throat constrict convulsively. It had been a far more unpleasant sight than imagined.

The image of her clinging to that embrace as if that bastard were her only savior wouldn't detach from his eyeballs.

He chewed and swallowed savage hatred thinly between his teeth.

"..."

That bastard who still saw the world as a flower garden—what was so terribly precious?

The mockery immediately covered him like throttling his neck. He felt exhaustion for the first time in ages. He exhaled hot breath and loosened his cravat. That was when it happened.

"Your Highness."

At the presence sensed behind him, the face reflected in the window stiffened slightly. Mikhail turned only halfway while gripping the curtain as if crushing it.

"...I really should cut the chamberlain's throat. I ordered no one admitted."

"Isn't it time you gave me my compensation?"

"Your... compensation."

"Yes. Please remember you promised to give me what I wanted if I lured out and brought that old woman. My brother's life and the treatment of Grand Duchess Adelheid."

Oskar revealed his base intentions transparently. Mikhail regarded him with a still-smiling face.

"So I did."

If only I could wield 'the power' perfectly from the beginning, I wouldn't have needed such trivial assistance. Whatever Oskar thought of that sigh of regret, the greed surfacing on his face deepened slightly.

"I'm relieved you remember even now. Then when exactly... Ah, I understand the current situation is difficult. Attention is focused, after all. Of course, it's not that I don't trust Your Highness..."

"Shh. Quiet."

Mikhail placed his index finger to his lips and warned gently.

That voice contained a strange power impossible to disobey. Oskar found himself closing his mouth and listening along with the Crown Prince.

As if a door opening somewhere, wind that hadn't been blowing behind him seeped in thinly.

Sssss, ssslick. In the silence, the sound of silk cord brushing the floor could be faintly heard.

Oskar reflexively looked back. But contrary to the 'presence' he'd felt, nothing suspicious was visible.

Just as he tilted his head and tried to turn back properly—something definitely moved beneath his feet.

"..."

Ssssss, sss. The sound like insect wings was chilling.

With eyes frozen in fear, he met the Crown Prince's gaze—still wearing that picture-perfect smile.

Oskar swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth and slowly looked down. The moment he met those glistening, elongated eyes even in darkness—

"U-uuu..."

Horrific terror paralyzed his entire body like poison. An endlessly long white serpent was flicking its crimson tongue and slowly constricting his ankle.

"Y-Your Highness! S-save, save me!"

When exterminating maggots, it was proper to scorch them all with boiling water. Crushing them one by one only made them crawl out and cause trouble, ignorant of their place.

"I l-learned that d-deals and c-contracts made in the n-name of god are... AAHHH!"

God. That name drew a bitter laugh. He stroked the serpent's body with his fingers and spoke.

"Shall I tell you a secret?"

"...U-urp."

"You must have heard of twin gods born on the same day but with different fates. The tradition has changed this way and that through transmission, but the fundamental content is similar. They possess identical faces and identical bodies, yet differ only in ability."

"..."

"The reality is completely different."

The memory of the moment he'd drawn his first breath remained vivid.

"Father God very carefully selected the materials to create his doppelgänger. He spent a thousand days carving and refining day and night. I dreamed while listening to his voice."

When he finally opened his eyes, a robust and beautiful creature stood opposite him. He'd thought it a reflection in a mirror—until he realized he had neither hands nor feet.

"In reality, 'Morig' was made from whatever materials were left, carelessly crumpled together. For disposal. Even that scrap refuse was touched by a god's hand, so life took root."

Thus the first serpent was born. The serpent envied everything about the dragon, but felt the most intense jealousy toward 'hands.'

Because that was the body he'd been born with from the beginning. Born as an existence crawling basely on its belly with neither hands, nor feet, nor powerful wings...

"We split from one being, so what he can possess should rightfully become mine as well. If the fate is the same, it belongs to whoever recognized it first... Isn't that natural?"

"..."

No answer came. Mikhail smiled with satisfaction, stroking the serpent's belly where it bulged with human form.

Even filling himself with prey like this, he always felt insatiable hunger and thirst.

As if a gaping hole were pierced in the center of his body. A void that nothing could fill, no matter how much he sucked in and stuffed it.

What made him forget it, if only briefly, was human seething desire.

Coveting the monarch's position was always for the same reason. Because that was where human desire clashed most fiercely.

Repeating life countless times this way, he'd finally managed to obtain such a perfect and cunning shell.

So things would be different now. His Adelheid would learn and master the power of the origin, blossoming the qualities of a god.

Taking that ripened 'divine origin' as his own would finally end this arduous patience, this unacceptable sense of defeat.