The Terminally Ill Prince is the Mad Dog of the Underworld (Novel) - Chapter 38

Chapter 38. The Survivors of Eisenach

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“It started recently. I heard that you manifested sword energy after consuming honey sent by the mountain tribes.”

Josef began his story, sitting in a chair in the bedroom that had become like a curtained private chamber.

“My master mentioned that medicinal honey is hard to obtain. It’s especially valuable when mixing elixirs or medicines because it harmonizes well with other energies.”

“I see.”

“But when I thought about it, something seemed strange. While some elixirs and herbs are still difficult to obtain, others have become more abundant in the market recently.”

Josef explained, gesturing with his hands.

“The common thread is that both types are supplied through the mountain tribes. For doctors, mages, and alchemists like us, the mountain tribes are big players. Generally, superior elixirs grow in uninhabited, treacherous mountains, and the same goes for rare magical beasts and unusual creatures.”

I had heard from Peter about how the mountain people trade these things to obtain goods they lack.

“And?”

“As you know, not all goods are traded in the open. Many items can’t be sold at market stalls. Such things inevitably go through the black market…”

“I know that part. Get to the point.”

“Yes, well.”

Seeing Josef’s mouth getting dry, Peter gave him a glass of water.

“Ah, thank you.”

“It’s nothing. Please speak comfortably.”

“Huff. This isn’t exactly a comfortable matter to discuss.”

Josef, who had been sighing, seemed to become aware of me and cleared his throat before speaking.

“Anyway, the mountain tribes have been supplying various elixirs and herbs through different black market channels. But as I mentioned, the items that recently started being supplied were unusual.”

“…Don’t tell me, the supplier is?”

I asked incredulously, and Josef squeezed his eyes shut.

“Young lord. Nothing is certain.”

“You must have reason to be suspicious.”

“…These were previously supplied by tribes affiliated with House Eisenach. They had special methods for producing medicines that other tribes couldn’t dare imitate.”

Olivier, who had been listening quietly, spoke.

“Young lord, it’s not impossible. While most of House Eisenach’s direct line died, there are still some whose fate remains unconfirmed.”

“Who are they?”

“…Your cousin brother and great-uncle.”

It was written in the diary too. The cousin seven years older was described as having a bold and dignified personality, and the great-uncle loved his grandnephew as much as he loved his nephew.

“…Perhaps those two are in the black market.”

“Young lord.”

Olivier spoke with a worried expression.

“This is all just speculation.”

“I know.”

But Josef’s story wasn’t over yet.

“Let me show you some concrete evidence.”

Josef pulled out a sealed glass bottle from his chest.

“This is a deadly poison that can kill a hydra with just a handful… Eek!”

Olivier had already drawn his dagger and was holding it under Josef’s chin.

“What are you trying to do?”

“W-w-wait, just a moment!”

Josef hastily explained with a face that looked like he might wet himself any second.

“This can’t be opened without a special method! It’s absolutely not dangerous!”

“Olivier. You can let him go.”

“Ahem. I apologize.”

Olivier cleared his throat and put the dagger away.

“I seem to have misunderstood.”

“No, no. I was the one who acted too rashly without thinking…”

“That’s true. If it had been one of my other brothers, you might have lost your head before getting a chance to explain.”

“I’m sorry! *hic*!”

Josef was so startled that he suddenly started hiccupping.

“Sorry, *hic*! I apologize. I’ll continue the explanation, *hic*! I’m sorry.”

“…Better drink some water first.”

I sighed as I spoke. The tense atmosphere had suddenly dissipated completely.

The more I looked at him, he seemed like such a simpleton, almost like…

“Like a studious Peter.”

“Hey, that sudden attack was uncalled for.”

Even Peter drew the line, apparently finding the situation pathetic.

‘Cold-hearted boy.’

“That was impressive though. Where did that dagger come from? Such swift technique.”

I clapped while looking at Olivier.

“Ahem, that’s not what’s important here.”

Anyway, after drinking lukewarm water and taking deep breaths to finally calm his hiccups, Josef pointed to the glass bottle and spoke.

“You must have all heard the saying that poison and medicine are separated by a hair’s breadth.”

Peter nodded a beat late after checking mine and Olivier’s reactions.

“Don’t lie. We know you didn’t know.”

“Hehe. Sorry. But now that I think about it, maybe I have heard it somewhere.”

Peter scratched his neck.

“…To continue my explanation, this poison has extremely powerful anesthetic effects. That’s why skilled surgeons use it as an anesthetic to reduce patients’ pain before major operations.”

“Ah, I see.”

“The problem is that the method of obtaining this poison is almost unknown. The accepted theory is that it’s extracted from special venomous insects, but only House Eisenach possessed this secret method. Because of this, it’s been nearly depleted for the past seven years. We’ve had to make do with less effective anesthetics.”

I could guess what came next.

“So you’re saying that coincidentally, this substance has recently appeared in the black market?”

“Exactly. Because of this, those in the know are saying that Eisenach survivors might have established themselves somewhere in the underground.”

If this is true, it’s information that non-medical professionals would find difficult to notice.

“…So that’s why you wanted to tell me this story.”

I looked at Josef’s face. Was he trying to deceive me? My instinct says no.

Though somewhat simple-minded, he’s a man who won’t abandon his duties as a doctor. He simply felt sympathy for his patient.

‘But good intentions don’t always lead to good results.’

Even if this information itself is true, the very source of the information might be someone’s bait to draw me out.

‘Why, you ask? I don’t know either.’

Perhaps there’s no intention behind any of this, and only my suspicion exists. I won’t exclude either possibility.

However, there was something else I needed to do now.

“Josef, I express my gratitude.”

“Ah.”

Josef was surprised, as if he hadn’t expected such words in this serious atmosphere.

“Why are you so surprised?”

“T-truthfully, I thought you might become very angry or rebuke me.”

“Me? Why?”

“…Because it’s an uncertain story, and not a pleasant one either.”

“If you thought that, you must have taken me for quite a Baklava-like fellow.”

Pfft! A sound of stifled laughter escaped.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Peter apologized with a tearful face.

“You couldn’t hold it in after all.”

“Huung, I deserve to die.”

“You’re pathetic, but not that much.”

I pointed at Olivier.

“I saw your nostrils flare slightly just now.”

“…”

Olivier turned his head away.

“Anyway, to summarize: My mother’s family’s survivors might be hiding somewhere. To verify if this is true, we need to trace the herb sales routes.”

“Yes. Even to me, this sounds like a possibility worth investigating.”

Olivier shared my thoughts.

“But, wouldn’t the underground be too dangerous? Wouldn’t it be better to ask His Grace the Duke or the Butler to investigate…”

That’s truly naive talk. Finding people in the underground? That’s my specialty, you see.

“…”

I kept quiet for a moment. The three others also remained silent.

‘My prediction was right.’

I had already thought before that some of my mother’s family might have gone into hiding in the underground.

After all, the underground is the cradle of night that embraces all manner of fugitives, losers, traitors, and exiles.

‘But hearing direct circumstantial evidence is another matter.’

I thought about the Eisenach family members whom I had no memories of, but whom Allenbert had longed to see so desperately.

How many would still be alive?

What feelings would they be living with?

‘Do they dream of revenge, or have they despaired at reality?’

Are they spending their time as if dead, with broken spirits?

…Like my mother, Lusatia Grünewald.

“Olivier, Peter.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yessir!”

I looked at the two as I spoke.

“Keep today’s matters absolutely confidential.”

“Young lord. What do you intend to do?”

Olivier looked at me directly, as if ready to disobey even my orders depending on my answer.

“If they are in the underground, I will naturally find and embrace them.”

“Young lord.”

“I know what you’re worried about.”

I said.

“But think about it. If the current tribal chief is a usurper who stole the throne through rebellion, who has the right and justification to challenge that throne?”

“…Surely not.”

“Those with justification to challenge the one who stole the throne would be none other than those from whom it was stolen. It’s no coincidence that a prince of a fallen nation has value.”

Olivier nodded heavily.

“But aren’t you looking too far ahead?”

“No matter how distant the destination, it’s the navigator’s job to consult the map before setting sail.”

I approached the window and pulled back the curtain.

“Look, regardless of where those sailing ships are headed, to reach their destination, they mustn’t doubt their course even in the endless expanse of ocean. They watch the North Star at night and check their maps during the day. Isn’t that right?”

I smiled at Olivier.

“Achieving great things is like this. Olivier. Isn’t this the kind of ambitious master you wanted?”

Olivier didn’t answer. But he didn’t deny it either. That means this man isn’t one who has drawn a line on his ambitions to remain a mere butler.

“Josef. I’m sorry, but you should take your leave for today.”

“Understood.”

As Josef withdrew with a heavy expression, I looked at Peter and Olivier in turn.

“Tomorrow, I’ll need both of your help.”

.

.

.

And that evening, I finally received permission to leave the castle grounds.

“My, they sure made me wait long. Thought my neck would fall off.”

Even while grumbling like this, I couldn’t help but grin happily.

Why wouldn’t I?

‘Finally.’

The time had come to return to my beloved underground.

* * *

The elderly head maid walked down the pitch-dark corridor where even light wasn’t permitted. Only the sound of her shoe heels echoed, click-clack.

“Madam.”

She delivered hollow words like an echo toward the door that gave no response.

“…Young Master Allen will be going out for an inspection outside the castle tomorrow.”

The head maid counted to ten in her heart, then placed a note under the door.

“I shall take my leave. Rest well.”

As the sound of heels faded away, silence once again settled in the corridor.

Minutes, or perhaps tens of seconds passed-

Creeeak.

…The door opened.