FDND 01

Chapter – 01 

 “You want me to just throw away the dead kid?”

The shout of the man holding me snapped me back to consciousness.

In the haze of half-dreaming awareness, one clear thought surfaced.

“…Excuse me, but I’m not dead.”

“If we leave her here, wild beasts will eat her up! I can’t possibly—!”

Hmm. What a soft-hearted reaction. Must be a rookie.

“She’s dead anyway. Dump her.”

Unlike the rookie, the older man — a veteran of at least ten years, by the sound of him — didn’t hesitate for a second.

“…I can’t do that.”

“That’s an order from Lord Leviathan.”

“No, but even if it’s an order—!”

“Do you value your life?”

“…….”

That’s right, kid. Listen to the old man.

Apparently the veteran brought along the greenest recruit for this dirty work, but that bleeding heart was only getting in the way.

“…Understood.”

The rookie finally gave in, valuing his life more than his conscience, and set my body down on the cold ground.

His fingertips still trembled with hesitation, but… oh well.

Don’t worry, rookie. A few more morally questionable experiences, and you’ll get numb like the rest.

Right now, though—

Ugh, cold!

The chill seeping up from the ground was a far more urgent problem.

“Farewell.”

The old man pried open my lips and slipped a coin-shaped object under my tongue.

“…Take care of yourself, Magritte.”

His whisper quivered faintly in my ear.

Not long after, their footsteps grew fainter and then disappeared altogether.

That was when the bitter taste flooded my mouth.

Blegh. Disgusting!

The so-called “coin” — actually an antidote — had almost completely dissolved.

Sure, it was supposed to be the greatest antidote in history… but the taste was another matter. Tsk.

Still, if the clinical trial succeeded, who cared about flavor?

The drug was designed to neutralize Aqua Magritte, the deadliest poison ever known.

So if this antidote worked, it would go down as the greatest antidote ever created.

And it would work.

Every ingredient, every ratio was perfect. I was confident enough to make myself the first human test subject.

Besides, the symptoms were progressing exactly as expected.

See? Tingling extremities, overwhelming drowsiness… all right on schedule…

Zzzzz…

Slurp.

Something wet.

Sticky, and it smelled awful.

“Yip—!”

And… was that an animal whining?

I forced my heavy eyelids open, blinking up at the pitch-black sky framed by thick trees.

What… what’s that noise…

Curiosity was there, but I didn’t have the strength to turn my head, so I started by wiggling my fingers.

Gradually, feeling returned to my limbs.

After a while, I managed to lift myself and clutch my throbbing head, turning to look beside me—

A wild dog lay there, foaming at the mouth.

Apparently, it had been the one licking me…

Without hesitation, I stuffed a handful of bitter herbs into its mouth.

“Come on, puke it out!”

Thankfully, the reaction was immediate.

As the dog vomited, I tested my own body, flexing fingers and limbs.

Looks like… the experiment was a success?

Despite cardiac arrest and respiratory failure from the poison, my body had fully recovered.

Which meant—

Ha! I really did it. The worst poison in history, and now the best antidote, too.

“Ah, that’s what I love about poison. So straightforward.”

As I savored my triumph, the silence around me finally registered.

The wild dog had stopped moving.

“Let’s see… you seem fine now. That’s what you get for licking me. I must’ve smelled suspicious as hell.”

Suspicious indeed — deadly, even.

I’d grown up consuming all kinds of toxins. By age six, my body had developed incredible resistance.

But there was a side effect: my body fluids were poisonous.

My blood, sweat, even tears carried a faint but deadly toxin.

Because of that, I was always alone.

Contact with others was dangerous, so while other children lived and trained together, I was isolated in the tower’s top floor.

And there, I remained confined.

“Doesn’t it drive you crazy, being cooped up here?”

The only person who ever visited me regularly was the old man.

Officially, his visits were for “personnel management,” but I still eagerly waited for every bit of outside gossip he brought me.

“Do you want me to get you out of here?”

When did he start saying that, I wonder? Asking me, every time he left, if I wanted to escape.

I always assumed it was just Lord Leviathan’s loyalty test.

Only after dying — and waking up again in the body of my six-year-old self — did I realize he’d meant it sincerely.

That is, after Leviathan murdered me at twenty.

“Do you want to get out?”

“Yes!”

That day, when he asked again as always, I finally said yes.

If I was doomed to die pointlessly again, I might as well take the gamble.

“…What? You mean it?”

“Yes!”

“…All right. Get ready.”

And then, a miracle happened.

He actually helped me escape.

I suspected until the very end that it was another of Leviathan’s traps. But no — Leviathan truly believed I was dead, and I was beyond his reach.

Which meant… the old man had always been telling me the truth.

Always.

“Awoo!”

“Hey! Quiet!”

My thoughts scattered as the wild dog — or rather, the wolf pup — howled beside me.

Right. No time for reminiscing. I had to get as far away as possible before dawn.

If Leviathan ever found out I’d faked my death and escaped…

I’d be truly dead next time.

“Awooooo—!”

“Damn it, shut up!”

Wait a second.

Didn’t wolves use howls to call their pack?

“Hey, don’t tell me you’re calling for—!”

The pup was drooling, staring straight at me.

A chill ran down my spine. I forced my sluggish body into motion and fled.

But my legs barely obeyed me — I’d only just revived, after all.

And at the bottom of the hill I stumbled over—

“Grrrr…”

A whole pack of wolves. At least ten of them.

And they were huge.

Wait. Wolves? Then that pup was—

Right. Not a stray dog. A wolf cub.

The “wild dog” ran past me and pressed its head against a larger wolf — its mother.

The mother turned, her eyes glinting with menace.

Ah. Eye contact. Bad idea.

“Ruff!”

She lunged, and I dove a hand into my pouch.

“W-wait! I’ll give you this! Look!”

The wolf froze.

* * *

Good thing I’d packed some madwort — the herb canines go crazy for.

Thanks to that, I’d managed to blend into the pack and travel north with them for several days.

Convenient, since the north was exactly my destination.

It was the one region least influenced by Leviathan — the perfect refuge.

Still, how far had we come?

The air had turned colder; we must be close.

“Huh? What’s that?”

Something glinted in the distance — sunlight flashing off metal.

Armor? Spears?

And… flags?

Knights? Scouts?

They were approaching fast, their horses outpacing the weary wolves.

“Wolven monsters ahead!”

“Wait—there’s a child!”

Impossible. A child among monsters?

“Could it be a humanoid-type monster?”

“…Possible.”

“Capture it.”

“No humanoid monsters have been recorded before. Proceed with caution!”

Humanoid monster? Capture?

Wait—were they talking about me?!

Before I could process it, the knights surrounded the wolves in a blur of motion.

“P-please don’t kill me!”

“…It talks?”

“Not a monster, then?”

They examined me anxiously — eyes, teeth, limbs.

“It’s a human child! Not a monster!”

“It’s a miracle…! The wolves were protecting her!”

As murmurs rippled through the knights, one man stepped forward.

He was tall, strikingly handsome, with a cold, composed face.

The brooch fastening his cloak caught the light — the engraved emblem unmistakable.

That crest…!

It was the sigil of House Bertier, lords of the North.

I studied him carefully.

Not only his looks — his armor was exquisitely crafted, his cloak the kind only nobles could afford.

Could he be the Duke himself?

Even I, locked away in a tower, knew of Duke Bertier — Leviathan’s nemesis and a tragic figure.

His misfortune began when his three-year-old daughter vanished. His wife, unable to bear the grief, fell ill and died soon after.

The Duke, driven mad by loss, eventually became a ruined man.

Of course, Leviathan’s scheming had a hand in that tragedy. The wife’s illness had been worsened — fatally — by poison he secretly administered.

But for now, the Duke looked… fine.

So his wife must still be alive.

“You.”

His voice pulled me from my thoughts. I met his crimson eyes — clear and sane, not yet clouded by madness.

He hesitated, then spoke.

“Are you… my daughter?”

yes??