The Cursed Beast Caught My Leash - Chapter 73

Such vulgar debauchery was nothing more than a tradition of indulgence enjoyed by his ancestors.

The Great Elder, Olena, claimed it was merely a recurring event, fulfilling her duties as an elder. She even mentioned how his own father had joyfully attended such gatherings.

Upon hearing this, Islay’s hand, which was gripping the sword hilt, froze. Over the boiling rage, an icy wave of disgust swept through him.

An event his lineage enjoyed? Could it be that his father had sought out his mother through such bestial acts?

The sharp hatred ultimately directed itself toward his own existence. He didn’t want to think about it any further. Islay refrained from taking the lives of Olena and Benoch, who claimed they had merely carried out their “tasks.”

Instead, he banished them to Hegir along with three other elders, even those who had no direct involvement in the incident. Though less radical than Olena, the remaining elders also desired for Peruno to continue its lineage.

After learning the secrets tied to Peruno’s bloodline, Islay realized that the abhorrent inheritance of blood wasn’t solely the result of his ancestors’ intentions.

But…

‘A drug to draw out Peruno’s true nature.’

Islay raised his right hand, inspecting the small wound left on his knuckle. Was this truly caused by Benoch’s arrow? He was confident it wasn’t. Yet…

Why had he felt an overwhelming urge to seek out the woman he had so delicately kissed mere moments ago and clasp her slender neck?

Why had the mere sight of the long nail marks on her wrist filled him with such boiling rage, while simultaneously igniting an insatiable desire to leave indelible marks on her fragile body?

Like the grotesque scenes he had once witnessed at a banquet—to ravage every part of her, driven by the same desire he had abhorred all his life.

If it wasn’t the result of poison, then this was surely an early symptom of the monstrous transformation that awaited him upon reaching his twenty-eighth year.

Yet, wasn’t the intensity excessive?

The more he was exposed to a blood-soaked and violent environment, the more prominent the primal instincts of the monster within him became. It wasn’t unthinkable for the symptoms to worsen following the recent events. But there was certainly something else—something that touched the depths of his soul…

Islay exhaled softly. He had finally realized the source of this sadistic lust.

“……”

It was his desire for the woman.

A yearning born of the affection he held deeply for her.

Love? If it were merely a crude desire, he could blame it on his cursed blood. He could suppress it by consuming sedatives potent enough to halt his heart’s beating.

But what could he do about love? How could he control the greed that stemmed from such emotion?

To stop the priests from sacrificing Stella, he had jokingly spoken of love, even pointing out flaws in the prophecy. But now, here he was, undeniably in love.

He had even promised to share a bed with her. For someone destined to meet his fate in three seasons, such a wish was excessive. Yet, when she had asked to stay by his side, he had agreed without hesitation. The growing greed was impossible to restrain.

Islay cut off his spiraling thoughts and looked down at those kneeling before him.

The dim light of a cloud-covered full moon illuminated their trembling forms. The sinners included Olena and Benoch’s close aides and even those stationed within the castle as informants.

Bloodshed only fueled the symptoms of the monstrous transformation he sought to suppress and crush. Yet, this was necessary. He should have done this from the start, rather than banishing them. He hadn’t anticipated falling in love, and this mistake had left him vulnerable.

“My lord, please have mercy…!”

“Hic, please, mercy! We only obeyed the orders of the Great Elder and Second Elder…!”

Islay looked at the group groveling on the grass, pressing their foreheads to the ground, with indifferent eyes. Just as his subordinate had uncovered the charges against them.

They had secretly prepared residences for the elders who had not returned to Hegir. They had procured wagonloads of rotting meat to lure monsters and identified densely populated areas of the city walls to cause greater chaos.

Despite knowing civilians, including the elderly and pregnant women, would be gravely harmed, they had followed the elders’ orders. Quick action had prevented needless sacrifices, but had there been any delay, lives would have been lost in vain.

Islay did not hesitate further.

“Deliver judgment.”

His cold, monotonous voice issued the command. The kneeling group turned pale and wailed. Cries for mercy erupted in a desperate cacophony but were abruptly silenced, as if snuffed out like a candle’s flame in the wind.

Islay watched the heads rolling across the grass without emotion before stepping away. His footprints, soaked in damp blood, left marks on the field. He was oblivious to the black veins bulging on his neck and climbing up to his cheeks.

***

Stella woke as the morning sunlight streamed brightly through the window. The light filtering through the thin curtains was so pure that the previous day’s chaos felt like a mere nightmare.

Her eyes met those of the physician, who was carefully checking her temperature.

“You’re awake. You must be hungry; shall I have breakfast brought in?”

“Ah, no. Has Dora… the girl in the treatment room next door… has she woken up?”

“She just regained consciousness moments ago.”

A deep smile of relief spread across Stella’s face.

“You’ll need to eat before taking your medicine—both of you.”

“I’ll eat later…!”

Not waiting any longer, Stella threw off the blanket and got up.

She opened the connecting door to the adjacent treatment room and saw Dora rubbing her eyes while sitting on the bed. Their eyes met, and both of them jumped up simultaneously.

“Dora!”

“Princess…!”

Stella rushed to embrace her maid. Remembering how Dora had thrown herself at Benoch without hesitation, Stella’s eyes stung with tears.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright too. I really thought I was done for, though. It was terrifying.”

“But we’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

As Stella comforted her, Dora sniffled and buried her face in Stella’s arms. Stella patted her maid’s small shoulders gently.

“Mikel is safe too, Dora. He’s recovering, though it will take some time for him to wake up. That’s what Islay said.”

“Really?”

“Yes. He had small beads in his pocket, which played a crucial role in preventing a fatal injury. If the poisoned blade had pierced his heart, even Mikel wouldn’t have survived.”

Stella repeated Islay’s words to reassure Dora. Dora looked incredulous.

“Could it have been the beads I gave him? I gave them to him to fiddle with when he was bored!”

“I think so. You saved his life.”

Stella looked down fondly at her teary-eyed maid.

“Since the beads are all broken, you should give him a new gift when he wakes up.”

“Sniff… I will.”

It was comforting to know that Dora had someone she could trust and care for here. It meant she wouldn’t be completely lonely after Stella left.

Instead of voicing this aloud, Stella continued to comfort Dora while gazing out the window.

It had only been one night, yet the entire city must be bustling with reconstruction efforts. Islay likely wouldn’t be returning to her side anytime soon.

In that case, now might be the opportunity.

Feeling a slight tension, Stella swallowed dryly. Wherever she went, guards would surely follow. Though their purpose was protection rather than surveillance, they wouldn’t sit idly by if she tried to visit the monastery. Besides, she had promised Islay she wouldn’t leave the treatment room.

When could she meet with Father Padro?

***

Several days passed.

Though Islay didn’t appear, he sent books and trinkets to keep Stella entertained in the treatment room. The meals and snacks brought at regular intervals were, unsurprisingly, exceptional.

One day, Stella visited Mikel, who was still recovering. When he faintly recognized Dora, she was overjoyed. She even burst into tears when fragments of the shattered beads were found in his pocket.

As she took sufficient rest, Stella gradually recovered from the nightmare-like chaos. The long scar on her arm scabbed over, leaving a red mark, and she spent more time gazing out the window.

Just as impatience began to set in, someone knocked on Stella’s door late one night.

The moment she heard the knock, she knew who it was.

Islay had returned.