Chapter 3. The Young Lord of Astin
“Goblin?”
The only goblins Arien knew were creatures that existed solely within the pages of books—monsters of legend.
Amid the chaos, she barely managed to recall what she had once read in the royal library’s bestiary.
“Goblins are small monsters, but they live in large numbers and attack in groups, making them foes that must never be underestimated.”
According to historical records, the various monsters that once roamed across the continent, slaughtering humans at intervals, had all been sealed within the central Fortis Temple by the mages and holy knights of the ancient Alician Empire.
Though Alician no longer existed and the continent had since been divided into five kingdoms, people no longer had reason to live in fear.
‘Goblins, something that only existed in the tales of ancient heroes, have appeared… What on earth is happening?’
Kuaak! Kyaaak! Kkiiiik!
The number of wood goblins shrieking grotesquely as they leapt down from the trees continued to increase.
But they were cut down without hesitation by the knights of Tarakion, tumbling to the ground as blood sprayed in all directions.
Perhaps because of the Tarakion Order’s distinctive black armor, they were barely visible in the pitch-dark forest.
Only the sounds of battle from all directions made it clear they were fighting; the exact situation was impossible to discern.
Still, one thing was certain—the goblins’ cries were growing fainter.
Theo spurred his horse onward, keeping a vigilant watch around Arien, who sat in front of him, ensuring that no goblins could approach.
“I’m going to increase our speed—hold on tight!”
The black horse carrying Theo and Arien raced relentlessly through the dark forest path.
Ssssh—
Just as it seemed they had gained some distance from danger, something flashed from Theo’s left and came flying toward him at incredible speed.
It was a goblin’s axe.
Clang!
Theo narrowly dodged and deflected it with his sword, but the blade grazed past the edge of his ear.
It happened in an instant.
Startled, Arien turned her head and saw blood beginning to seep from Theo’s ear—its color already turning purple.
Theo’s expression darkened as he realized belatedly that the axe had been poisoned.
“Damn it…”
Had it struck his body, his armor might have offered some protection. But the problem was that he wasn’t wearing a helmet.
Though Arien could barely keep her composure atop the galloping horse, she instinctively understood that Theo’s safety was directly tied to her own survival.
There was no time to hesitate.
Seeing his face contort in pain, Arien quickly turned her body, cupped his left ear with her palm, and whispered a spell.
“O source of life, by the command of light.”
A soft blue glow emanated from her hand, enveloping Theo’s upper body.
As she turned suddenly, the hood she had pulled tightly over her head slipped off, and her carefully tied silver hair cascaded freely in the air.
Unaware of Theo’s brief moment of surprise, Arien focused her healing magic into her palm and spoke urgently.
“Sir Hayden, please endure it just a little longer—the artery near the ear must be treated quickly!”
Though she had been branded a traitor and wandered unfamiliar lands for the past three months without proper rest, her mastery of healing magic and knowledge of the human body were unparalleled—even the masters at the Planus Royal Academy acknowledged her skill.
‘If he collapses, I’ll have to face those dreadful monsters alone. I must keep this knight alive.’
Soon, silence returned, broken only by the rhythmic pounding of the horse’s hooves.
Looking back, she saw the Tarakion knights reorganizing their formation and following behind.
Theo’s ear, which had been turning purple, was gradually returning to its normal color. At the very least, it seemed the spread of the poison had been halted.
From behind, a blond knight—Lilvain—spurred his horse forward.
He raised his hand, signaling everyone to stop, then approached Theo and Arien.
“Theo, are you alright?”
“Yes. Fortunately, the healer assisted me. The axe was poisoned. It’s strange that those goblins are now using poison.”
After examining Theo’s condition, Lilvain silently bowed his head in gratitude toward Arien.
At that moment, a particularly large knight among those behind glanced at Theo and spoke with mild disapproval.
“If the lord finds out you were injured by nothing more than a wood goblin’s axe, then tomorrow in training you’ll—ah, honestly…”
“Sir Huber! Didn’t I say I’m fine? Please, just forget about it!”
Theo replied hastily, rubbing his face in embarrassment.
Only then did he realize Arien was right in front of him and quickly gestured to silence the others.
For a brief moment, all the knights’ gazes turned toward her.
Her silver hair shimmered as though it had absorbed the moonlight itself, and her emerald eyes blinked softly as she listened to their conversation, glowing vividly in the darkness.
The knights, having caught a glimpse of her face, found it difficult to look away.
Then, as if suddenly realizing their impropriety, they cleared their throats awkwardly and averted their eyes.
While Arien was not the only person on the continent with silver hair, hers possessed an almost mystical luster—as though each strand had been dusted with fragments of the moon itself.
Feeling uncomfortable under their stares, Arien pulled her hood down again and pretended to check whether her worn bag was securely fastened to the saddle.
The thought that she had unknowingly spent a night in a cave within a mountain teeming with such horrifying monsters sent chills down her spine.
“Form up again! Move out swiftly!”
At Lilvain’s command, they resumed their march.
After riding for some time along the forest path, it gradually widened, and in the distance, a massive castle came into view.
Astin Castle, which appeared to have been constructed with immense time and effort, was truly magnificent.
The soldiers, having confirmed the knights’ arrival, hurriedly lowered the drawbridge.
The moat surrounding the outer walls shimmered under the moonlight.
At the center stood the main castle, crowned with sharp spires, while slightly lower structures encircled it, partially hidden behind the high walls.
The outer walls themselves were towering, and the closer they approached, the more overwhelming its scale became.
Arrow slits were placed at regular intervals beneath the watchtowers, giving the entire structure the impression of a fortress built equally for offense and defense.
The lord of Astin had not always been Kias.
Kias had been born the legitimate heir of the northern Nakra Kingdom, not the current Krun Kingdom.
However, after a tragic incident he experienced at the age of fourteen, he severed ties with his war-obsessed father, King Velmus, and crossed the border with his younger sister, Brosia, who was nine years his junior.
From that year onward, after seventeen years of effort, he became the true master of the Astin region.
Turning coldly away from his father, Kias cut off all ties with the Nakra Kingdom.
Bards across the continent began calling him the Black Prince, composing songs and poems about him, and his story spread to neighboring kingdoms.
By now, it was impossible to distinguish truth from fiction—but people did not seem to care.
They spoke as if savoring tales of his supposed savagery—that he wore only beast hides, that he kept wolves as pets, that he ate nothing but meat, that black wings were hidden upon his back, or that he drank the blood of monsters.
‘Seeing Astin Castle makes me even more nervous. I just hope he’s someone reasonable…’
Taking in the sight before her, Arien inhaled deeply and exhaled, trying to calm her racing heart.
Before long, the group passed through the castle gates, crossed the outer and inner wards, and finally arrived at the entrance.
Though it was late at night, servants rushed out, taking the reins from the knights while casting curious glances at Arien as they passed.
Standing somewhat tensely in the unfamiliar surroundings, Arien looked around as Theo bowed to her with discipline.
“Thank you for earlier. You must meet the lord now, so I will properly express my gratitude later. I will be sure to repay this debt.”
“I’m glad your injury doesn’t seem severe. Still, you may have a headache until tomorrow, so please endure it. And this may taste quite bitter, but you must chew it before going to bed tonight.”
Arien rummaged through her bag and handed him a bundle of herbs tied together in small rolls.
As Theo accepted them respectfully, his gaze shifted toward the castle entrance.
Lilvain, who had dismounted earlier, had already walked ahead in silence.
‘I noticed earlier… that knight is quite rigid.’
Theo hurried after Lilvain, gesturing politely for Arien to follow.
“This way, please.”
As she ascended the stairs and looked around the interior, Arien noticed something peculiar.
No matter where she looked, there wasn’t a single plant—not even a small vase.
For a residence of such grandeur, it felt oddly barren, as though devoid of warmth.
The thought that the rumors she had heard about Kias might all be true suddenly made her uneasy.
In her homeland of Planus, the southern climate filled both the inside and outside of castles with trees and flowers.
With various blossoms decorating the halls year-round, the stark atmosphere of Astin Castle felt all the more desolate.
An unfamiliar place, an uncertain situation, and a man known as the Black Prince.
As Arien imagined that the man she was about to meet might be closer to a barbarian than a noble, tension gripped her.
‘Surely Father didn’t send me to seek out a savage…’
Upon reaching the third floor, they stopped before what appeared to be the Grand Duke’s office.
Though not overly ornate, the large double doors made of sturdy mahogany exuded a sense of authority as they stood firmly shut.
Every corner of a castle inevitably reflects the character and taste of its master.
Growing more anxious in the rigid atmosphere, Arien clenched the hem of her robe, her palms damp with sweat.
Knock, knock.
“My lord, I have a report.”
Lilvain spoke curtly in a low voice and opened the door.
The room, illuminated by a blazing fireplace, seemed to glow as though viewed through a glass of red wine.
On the opposite wall hung a massive map, large enough to cover nearly the entire surface.
Several books lay open on the desk, and beside them were stacks of documents, as if awaiting the imprint of their master’s red seal.
As Arien’s wide, deer-like eyes scanned the room, her gaze finally settled on a tall man standing by the window, arms crossed, looking outside.
Though she could only see his back, the aura he exuded made it unmistakable.
He was Kias von Demidhel, the young lord of Astin.
