There’s Something Special About Her - Chapter 6

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 6.
Chapter. 2
Dupon Clansher, Killian Knox’s trusted aide and one of seven senior officers, tilted his head in confusion.
‘That’s strange. I could have sworn I was just explaining how difficult it would be to find Helena Morton?’
Had I somehow said finding Morton would be easy as pie without realizing it?
With eleven consecutive nights without sleep already behind him, it was about time he started talking nonsense.
No, there’s no way I would have said something like that.
A cold voice struck down upon the bemused Dupon’s ears.
“Dupon.”
“Yes?”
“Find her and bring her to me.”
Ah, so I hadn’t misspoken after all.
He simply didn’t care.
Though Dupon believed it was the tenth night, midnight had long passed and pushed him into his eleventh consecutive sleepless night—and even that meticulous man found cracks forming in his composure.
“I wish to find her, truly. But I cannot grasp even a thread of her whereabouts—whether she sank into the earth or soared into the sky. She definitely arrived at Border Village, but after that, there’s nothing.”
“So Knox’s officer is less capable than Helena Morton. You certainly do like to talk.”
“But——”
“Your tongue is too long.”
Dupon quickly shut his mouth.
He knew the value of a tongue.
For fear of meeting Killian’s eyes, he lowered his head and began devising every possible method to find Helena Morton.
And his mind, deprived of proper rest for eleven days, finally failed him.
“Ah, now that I think of it, Cain should be in that area. If you would permit it, I could track Cain and have him conduct further investigation into Helena Morton——”
Oh no.
Dupon Clansher clamped his mouth shut once more.
He’d actually named Cain.
Now he truly feared for the safety of his tongue.
Cain Degrave.
Captain of the Guard Unit, the elite force, and the shadow that protected Killian most closely.
But the world called Cain Degrave by a different name.
Killian Knox’s hunting dog.
All of Knox’s officers were loyal to Killian, but Cain’s loyalty was of a different fiber.
With a single word from Killian, Cain Degrave would cut his own throat without hesitation.
That such a man had left behind only a short letter and crossed the border into Coroline Kingdom was something no one had anticipated.
Sure enough, the expression that had been relatively relaxed on Killian’s face had turned deathly cold.
Apparently, he still hadn’t received even a single letter from Cain.
‘Has Cain actually lost his mind?’
Being the only one within Knox strong enough to cross swords with Killian, he wouldn’t have died out there.
Or perhaps it would have been better if he had never returned.
“There must be a sound reason for Cain to have suddenly crossed the border. He’s not someone who would abandon the master’s side so——”
“Then it had better be.”
Killian cut him off with a cryptic utterance.
Then, rising abruptly from the bath, the fragrant water sloshed and finally spilled over the edge of the tub.
Dupon, who had deftly stepped back, draped the robe he’d offered loosely around Killian’s shoulders as the latter walked straight out of the bathhouse.
The wet footprints traced an unhurried path through the quiet Mansion’s corridor, hundreds of staff having already withdrawn without a trace.
Those footsteps led downward, ever downward, until they reached the stone stairs of the Underground Prison.
“S-Sir!”
The guard at the prison’s entrance was startled by the sudden appearance of the Knox Duke, but his attempt at salute was cut short by a knowing glance from Dupon, who followed quietly behind.
The message was clear: stay silent and open the door.
Clang—!
As the iron door swung open, Killian’s gait was unhurried.
Soft, soft.
At that deliberately unsilenced footfall, the prisoners who had been groaning in pain all day fell silent, holding their breath.
After walking for some time, Killian finally stopped before one cell.
Inside lay the spy who had been sold to Knox for payment, now broken in two.
“U-uh……”
The man couldn’t even scream properly as he crawled away from the bars, only to be blocked by the stone wall.
Realizing there was nowhere to run, his bulging eyes turned to the thick bars.
A paradoxical hope that the iron bars that had imprisoned him would now protect him.
But that hope was short-lived.
Crunch.
The moment Killian’s hand touched the lock, the iron mechanism snapped with a pathetic sound.
“Huh-uh……”
A pale terror bloomed across the prisoner’s contorted face.
Killian regarded it with an impassive expression, then stepped into the cell.
Dupon remained outside the bars.
Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, he watched the scene of flesh and bone tearing and shattering, and thought:
‘An Eclipse draws near.’
So he’d taken direct action against the spy himself.
Dupon cursed his own inability for not noticing sooner.
Killian Knox’s Dragon Eyes were proof of deep Dragon Blood.
Throughout the generations, many Knox bloodline members had been born with the eyes of the Golden Dragon, yet none had safely reached adulthood.
The human body was far too fragile to contain the power of Dragon Blood.
Yet Killian Knox had survived.
No one knew the reason.
Somehow, from some point onward, Killian wielded the Dragon’s power at will.
But that leash was only half-secured.
There were times when the Dragon Blood encroached upon Killian’s consciousness.
When that happened, the dormant dragon’s instinct would awaken, and Killian became far more savage, craving blood, surrendering to the urge to kill.
Only a precious few close associates knew of that time, which they called the Eclipse.
A period when the moon—symbol of the house and of the Knox Duke—was darkened by shadow.
And it seemed this Eclipse was drawing near.
Crack—!
Having torn away one of the prisoner’s limbs, Killian tossed it to the prison floor and spoke.
“Dupon.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Find Helena Morton and bring her to me.”
He mentioned her again, even now?
Dupon found himself pitying the still-missing Helena Morton.
“I shall obey, sir.”
Hearing his subordinate’s loyal answer, Killian turned and left the prison.
Soft, soft.
Walking through the dark Underground Prison, leaving crimson stains in his wake, Killian suddenly became aware of the blood that thoroughly drenched his entire body.
And his mind naturally turned to the sharp fragrance that had filled the bath.
Weak floral scents cannot mask the smell of blood.
They only make it more repugnant.
Killian, as if understanding this well, recalled the small, vague-faced operative who had chosen Geltus from among the many perfumes—a scent that could not mask death.
“There are many rats in this Mansion.”
Throughout his journey to Forest Lake to cool his roiling bloodlust, Killian thought at length about that “rat.”
***
The day after the commotion in the dead of night.
Once again, I was heading to the Checkpoint for my shift.
But I kept letting weak laughter slip out.
“Ah, what beautiful weather.”
After the unfortunate encounter with Killian Knox last night.
I’d nearly panicked.
Killian Knox—a man I’d heard about countless times through gossip and Intelligence Unit reports.
But meeting the reality of flesh and blood face-to-face was an entirely different experience.
The head of Knox had been threatening enough that I’d nearly drawn my killing intent, forgetting my cover entirely.
“Phew.”
Just thinking back on it now made me shudder at the overwhelming pressure.
But once I’d calmed down, a shift in perspective came to me.
‘Terrifying, yes, but… I’m alive right now, aren’t I?’
Even after carefully checking my neck, it was still firmly attached to my shoulders.
‘Even though our eyes met so directly.’
He’d simply stared through me, and Killian Knox showed no particular sign of recognition.
If he’d known I was someone hiding my true self, there’s no way he would have let me live this long.
Even if he hadn’t killed me on the spot, I surely would have been dragged to the Underground Prison.
He would have interrogated me—who are you, what purpose brings you to hide in this Mansion—and torture would have naturally followed.
Yet here I am, perfectly fine.
After looking directly into my eyes, the only thing Killian Knox said was,
“Release the perfume.”
That was all.
So naturally, this thought took hold:
‘Killian Knox didn’t find anything particularly suspicious about me either.’
When I think about it, that makes sense.
Killian Knox possessed an uncanny ability to identify spies infiltrating the organization and traitors harboring betrayal in their hearts.
‘But I’m neither of those things, am I?’
So naturally, that famous Dragon Eye of his was useless against me.
My disguise was flawless, my position in the unit well-established.
There was no need to fear being exposed to Killian Knox.
Now I was invincible.
“Hehe.”
The fact that I kept smiling even as the Checkpoint came into view suggested I was genuinely in good spirits.
“I have a good feeling about today.”
Perhaps there would be fewer visitors than usual.
Or perhaps the kitchen staff would bring extra snacks.
There were kitchen servants who occasionally brought sweet desserts.
Come to think of it, it had been a while since they’d last visited.
Today might be that day.
Lost in such pleasant thoughts, I arrived at the Checkpoint with a light step.
That’s when a man stepping down from a carriage to enter the checkpoint building caught my eye.
More precisely, his gait.
Thud-thud, thud-thud.
The subtle asymmetry between his left and right steps was imperceptible to an ordinary person.
The sharp instincts that had grown dull since joining Knox—instincts that were nothing compared to before—were forcibly awakening, and the sensation was profoundly unpleasant.
“So much for a good feeling.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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