Chapter 1 — The Man Called the Hand of God

The Imperial Palace of Berlin. The Emperor’s royal stables.

Inside the grand building, the imperial warhorses stood in neat rows.

The place was so quiet that not even breathing could be heard.

Then the silence broke.

Grrr…

It was Leonhardt, the Emperor’s favorite black horse.

Rough, strained breathing echoed through the stable.

The horse trembled violently, unable to place one leg on the ground.
The leg was swollen tight, the veins bulging irregularly as if they might burst.

The royal veterinarians who had been urgently summoned were sweating as they examined the horse from every angle.

“Perhaps the repeated marches and charge training put too much strain on the leg.”

“But they said he was perfectly fine yesterday.”

“Let’s try cold compresses first to reduce the swelling.”

They desperately applied cold packs.

But it did nothing.

The swelling spread even further, climbing toward the upper thigh. Leonhardt’s eyes began to roll back.

Between the increasingly rough breaths of the horse, someone cautiously spoke.

“Should we try bloodletting?”

Bloodletting had long been considered standard medical practice.

It was believed that removing blood improved circulation and expelled toxins from the body.

Recently, some progressive doctors had begun questioning it, but it was still widely regarded as the most reliable way to treat swelling and fever.

A senior veterinarian spoke in a low voice.

“Be careful not to cut the jugular vein too deeply. Just a shallow cut. Enough for the bad blood to flow out.”

“…Understood.”

The veterinarian holding the knife was visibly trembling.

The patient was the Emperor’s beloved horse. If something went wrong, their own lives might be in danger.

Slice.

Drip.

Dark red blood poured into a basin. Everyone watching held their breath.

“Will it work?”

“Bloodletting has always worked. When swelling is severe, draining blood is the surest way.”

But as time passed, the horse showed no improvement.

In fact, its breathing became even rougher.

Hope faded. Anxiety filled the stable.

“What if we summon Count Stein?”

At someone’s hoarse suggestion, another veterinarian shouted.

“Yes! If it’s Count Stein…”

“That’s right. Let’s call Count Stein.”

“If he comes, it might be possible.”

“If the Hand of God arrives…”

At that moment—

Tap.

The sound of shoes striking the stable floor echoed.

Every head turned toward the entrance.

A man in a black cloak stood there.

Elegant steps. A dignified presence.

A man walking through the cold air like a blade cutting through ice.

Karl Heinrich von Stein.

The Emperor’s veterinarian.

And the man recognized by the Prussian royal family as the “Hand of God.”

“Stop the bleeding.”

Just one sentence.

But the authority in that voice made the veterinarian immediately press down on the wound.

“B-But Count, we’re performing bloodletting right now—”

Another veterinarian instantly covered his mouth.

His eyes silently cursed him.

How dare you question Count Stein!

Stein knelt slowly beside the horse.

His long fingers carefully traced down the swollen leg. When he pressed lightly on a certain spot, his eyes flashed.

“Bring me a knife!”

The veterinarians swallowed nervously as Stein’s adjutant quickly handed him a blade.

Stein spoke calmly.

“This wound is rotting. If left untreated, the poison will spread through the body. The horse will not survive more than a few days.”

The stable erupted in murmurs.

He wasn’t suggesting bloodletting.

He was going to cut open the Emperor’s horse.

“B-But if you make a mistake…”

“Silence! Who dares question Count Stein!”

Stein ignored them and gave another order.

“Prepare a painkiller. Mix it with morphine.”

His adjutant quickly administered the medicine to the horse.

Soon Leonhardt’s tense body began to relax slightly.

Behind them, several veterinarians whispered.

“He must value the Emperor’s horse a lot… wasting such expensive medicine on an animal.”

Stein’s cold gaze turned toward them.

The whispers instantly stopped.

They were mistaken.

Stein always used this medicine whenever a treatment involved pain—no matter the animal.

“Hold him firmly.”

The blade cut into the wound.

Immediately, thick yellow pus mixed with blood poured out.

Splatter!

A horrible stench filled the stable.

The veterinarians grimaced and stepped back, but Stein didn’t even blink.

Instead, he pressed harder, squeezing out every bit of infection.

“Towel.”

His adjutant instantly handed him a clean cloth.

Stein continued pressing the wound.

“I-Is that really okay?”

Someone asked in a frightened voice.

Stein ignored the question and pressed the swollen area even harder.

“Grrr—!”

Leonhardt groaned and twitched in pain.

Stein paused briefly.

“Endure it a little longer. It’s almost over.”

Then he ordered his adjutant,

“Prepare more morphine. The pain must be eased.”

After another dose was given, the horse’s breathing calmed again.

Stein resumed his work.

The yellow pus gradually decreased, replaced by fresh red blood.

Still, Stein did not stop.

He pressed deeper, forcing out the remaining infection.

Only when bright red blood flowed cleanly did Stein finally stop.

“Bring sugar.”

The veterinarians’ faces twisted in disbelief.

“…Sugar? Surely you’re not planning to use that old stablehand remedy?”

It was an outdated method dismissed for lacking scientific evidence.

Stein simply extended his hand.

His adjutant hurriedly handed him a leather pouch.

Without hesitation, Stein sprinkled the white powder over the wound.

The veterinarians began whispering.

Some scoffed. Some shook their heads.

But a few younger veterinarians watched his hands closely, not wanting to miss anything.

One of the older men secretly sneered.

Hmph. People praise him as a genius… and now he’s gone senile. Pickling a wound with sugar? That horse will never survive.

But no one dared say it aloud.

Then, a few days later—

A miracle occurred.

The rotting tissue where the sugar had been applied fell away, and new flesh began to grow.

When Leonhardt stood proudly on all four legs again, the stable fell silent.

“He… really survived.”

“…Saved by sugar.”

After this incident, Stein’s fame spread even further.

The Emperor personally summoned him.

“You truly possess the hand of God.”

The banquet hall overflowed with praise for Stein.

Yet even while raising his glass, Stein did not smile.

His thoughts were only of Elise.

***

Later That Night

As soon as the banquet ended, Stein hurried back to his estate.

Praise and fame meant nothing to him.

What he truly cared about was in the stable.

When he opened the door, moonlight illuminated a horse lying on the ground.

Normally she would have raised her head energetically.

But Elise lay there weakly.

“…Elise.”

Stein gently cleaned her body.

After checking the gaps in her hoof, he laid clean cloth beneath it and sprinkled finely ground sugar over it.

Wounds treated with sugar never worsened.

He didn’t fully understand why.

But experience told him it worked.

“This is the best I can do for now.”

He carefully wrapped her hoof with cloth and secured it tightly with bandages.

His fingers trembled as he tied the knot.

Those same hands that never shook while holding a scalpel were trembling now.

Elise had developed a severe hoof infection.

The tissues supporting the hoof were collapsing, causing unbearable pain and lameness.

“Elise… you will get better.”

But even as he said it, anxiety filled his heart.

Elise was not just a horse.

She had grown up with him since childhood.

Twice every day, Stein personally treated her hoof with sugar therapy.

He laid thick straw across the stable floor so she could rest comfortably.

But her condition only worsened with each passing day.

Every time Stein touched her leg, he could sense the subtle changes.

His instincts as a veterinarian told him the truth.

Tomorrow would be worse than today.

Knowing that made him hate his own abilities.

How could he be called the Hand of God if he could only watch helplessly?

“Elise… you mustn’t keep lying down. Try to stand, even a little.”

Elise blinked her large eyes and looked at him.

There was deep sadness in them.

As if saying,

I know… but I can’t stand.

Stein stroked her again and again.

Later that night he returned to his study and stayed awake drawing blueprints.

“Build this immediately.”

His adjutant examined the drawing.

“What is this structure? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“A device to lift Elise.”

The design used pulleys and supports to hold her chest and stomach.

“She must be able to walk without supporting her own weight.”

“I will prepare it immediately.”

***

The Dream

That night Stein dreamed.

Elise was running across an endless meadow.

Her shining brown mane flowed in the wind as her four legs raced across the earth.

But suddenly—

The ground split open.

A deep black crack formed beneath her feet.

“Elise!”

Stein reached out.

But she drifted farther away.

She looked at him with frightened eyes—

Then scattered into dust and disappeared in the wind.

“Elise!”

He screamed.

***

Reality

“Gasp!”

Stein woke up, his heart pounding.

A heavy sense of dread pressed down on him.

Then—

Knock knock.

“…What is it?”

His voice remained dignified, but his hands trembled.

A servant stood outside, terrified.

“Th-The stable… Elise is acting strangely!”

“Let’s go.”

Stein, who rarely ran, sprinted toward the stable.

Painful cries echoed outside the building.

Elise lay on the ground, trembling violently.

At first glance it might have seemed like severe hoof disease.

But Stein noticed something else.

Her abdomen was swollen.

Her body was stiff.

“…Intestinal torsion.”

His heart sank.

He touched her stomach.

Hard as stone.

His hands trembled.

There’s nothing I can do.

No medicine could cure it.

The swelling would worsen.

Her organs would rot.

“No!”

Stein held Elise’s head tightly.

He had saved countless lives.

Yet he could do nothing for the one life most precious to him.

“Bring morphine!”

It was brought immediately.

Stein gave it to Elise with shaking hands.

Her violent struggling slowed.

But her stomach continued to swell.

“I can’t send you away like this…”

Elise gathered her last strength and rubbed her head against his arm.

It’s okay… I’m okay… Master.

Stein looked into her eyes.

They were filled with the same trust as always.

But this time—

He could not protect that trust.

Then—

Elise exhaled a long breath.

Her body went limp.

“N-No… Elise… Elise…”

His cry echoed through the stable.

Stein held her all night, weeping.

And thus he lost the friend who had been with him his entire life.

***

Later

Cold alcohol burned down his throat.

“So this is veterinary medicine…”

Books, knowledge, experience.

None of it had mattered.

“I am not the Hand of God.”

He drank again.

“My hands… are nothing.”

Bottle after bottle.

If science had advanced further…

If I had known more…

Then Elise might still…

“Damn it!”

The bottle slipped from his hand.

Glass shattered on the floor.

Wine spilled everywhere.

Stein’s body swayed.

His vision blurred.

And then—

He collapsed.

***

Somewhere Else

The sound of pages turning.

Quiet whispers.

“…Ugh.”

Stein opened his eyes.

Books and notebooks filled with writing covered the desk in front of him.

Did I fall asleep while reading?

He slowly looked around.

Then froze.

Where am I…?

He looked down at his hands.

Black stains covered them.

Ink?

But something else was strange.

These hands…

They were short, rough.

Not his long elegant fingers.

His clothes were wrong too.

Not silk.

Not a noble uniform.

Just rough fabric.

“What is going on? Adjutant!”

Someone suddenly tapped his shoulder.

“Hey, Kim Seok-un. Are you okay being at the library?”

Kim… Seok-un?

Is that… a name?

Stein’s mind froze.

That is not my name.

And—

This language… is not Prussian.

A wrinkle formed on his forehead.

Not French. Not English. Not Latin.

Then why… can I understand it?

His fingers tightened.

I don’t just hear it.

I understand it.

His heart dropped.

Impossible.

He had never learned this language.

From nowhere.

From no one.

Yet every word formed meaning in his mind.

As if he had always known it.

“You collapsed yesterday and went to the ER, remember?”

Stein’s eyes flashed.

“This body?”

The moment he spoke, his expression stiffened.

The elegant voice that once echoed through the Prussian court was gone.

This voice felt unfamiliar.

Someone nearby packed their bag and said,

“Man, you really must be sick. Seok-un, you should go home.”

Stein’s eyes turned cold.

Someone dared to speak casually to him?

But the young man only looked worried.

As if he couldn’t see a noble’s authority at all.

“You’re still pale.”

Stein’s lips tightened slightly.

Yet no one noticed his aristocratic anger.

“Seok-un, you look really sick. Go home and rest.”

Again, casual speech.

Stein almost shouted—

Then stopped.

Something was wrong.

He slowly looked around.

This was not his mahogany study.

Not his estate filled with servants.

This place was… strange.

And this body.

He moved his fingers.

Heavy.

Dull.

His mind quickly pieced together the puzzle.

A foreign place.

An unknown language flowing through his mind.

A completely different body.

Could it be…

Stein’s eyes deepened.