Chapter 62

Carmel recalled the beautiful face of Lady Catrin Elemoer and gave Etius a doubtful look.

He was still young, but surely not so feeble-minded as to be swayed by mere beauty. Was he really trying to protect her for such a shallow reason?

No, it was more likely that she had committed many crimes and they needed to capture her alive to get a confession—hence, the order not to harm her.

“Understood. Then I’ll go reorganize the unit once more.”

Soon after leaving, Carmel approached Caron, who was reviewing revolutionary plans with the subordinates.

“I’d like a word with you.”

He led Caron away and asked about Lady Elemoer.

Caron responded as if he had anticipated the question.

“He didn’t tell me the details either.”

Even Caron, the sharpest among Etius’s revolutionary commanders, didn’t seem to know exactly why Etius insisted on sparing Elemoer.

“But, Your Grace…”

A gentle breeze lifted Caron’s hair.

“His Highness has always had sound reasons for his decisions. I will follow them no matter what.”

“…”

“Even if I personally don’t understand them.”

Etius usually shared all classified information with Caron. The fact that even he was excluded meant it was an extremely sensitive matter.

Carmel, looking at Caron, slowly nodded.

“I was foolish for a moment. You’re right. As a vassal, I must trust and support His Highness no matter what.”

He had been deceived by the current emperor and harbored misplaced resentment for years.

As if reaffirming his loyalty to himself, Carmel Beatrice muttered under his breath, then patted Caron on the shoulder in encouragement.

“His Highness is fortunate to have such a loyal subject.”

“Not at all. I’m the one who’s grateful that the royal hunt helped you turn your heart back to His Highness.”

“Nonsense. It was the only right thing to do. We are one family now.”

As they exchanged a glance of mutual trust and turned to part ways, something suddenly occurred to Carmel.

‘Wait, perhaps…’

He immediately passed Caron and told a subordinate to bring him the arrow that had landed beside him during the royal hunt, then headed to the forge attached to the estate.

While nobles typically acquired weapons in various ways, the Beatrice family, unlike other capital nobles, had their own personal blacksmiths—and Carmel had brought one along to the capital.

“Take a look at this for me.”

Receiving the arrow from his subordinate, Carmel handed it to the weaponsmith and asked him to identify where it had been made.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, the experienced blacksmith examined the arrowhead with ease.

“There’s a serial number here. This number is from a blacksmith affiliated with the Red Maple Smithing Guild of Dobelten… These arrows are usually supplied to three noble families, including the Elemoer household.”

It felt as if an arrow had pierced Carmel Beatrice’s mind.

He now understood the identity of the shadow that had moved so swiftly—and why Etius had kept it so tightly classified.

Carmel raised his hand, covering his mouth instinctively.

“Good heavens…”

---

“If it’s cute, it’s an ally. Don’t you think?”

Despite Heros warning me to stay away from the suspicious dog, how suspicious could a dog even be?

I ran my hand over the Border Collie’s head and asked,

“Where did you come from?”

Judging by its glossy fur, it must’ve had an owner—but how did it end up in the Elemoer estate’s garden?

Standing behind me, Heros stared carefully at the dog and then shook his head.

“Strange.”

“Huh? What is?”

“It doesn’t have a collar. But it looks like it’s been well cared for.”

In Star of the Revolution, the Oswell Empire enforces a pet registration system.

Whether a hunting dog or a pet, owners had to register them at a government office and attach a collar with an ID number for monitoring.

In that regard, the Empire was surprisingly advanced when it came to pets.

“Maybe it just slipped off its leash and ran away.”

Panting happily, the dog rubbed its head against my hand, clearly enjoying the attention.

“Ah… so cute.”

Piyo?

At some point, Piyo had climbed onto the Collie’s back. It tilted its head in curiosity, then slipped off with a little slide.

Even Piyo seemed fascinated by the dog.

Pant, pant…

After petting the Collie for a while, I finally stood up.

Then I ordered Heros:

“Can you try to find this pup’s owner? Maybe it broke free from its leash.”

As much as I enjoyed this surprise visitor, it wouldn’t be right if its owner was desperately looking for it somewhere.

Woof!

But before I even finished speaking, the dog barked joyfully and darted off toward the garden.

Its tongue lolled out and it panted happily, as if nothing were wrong.

“Wait!”

Heros tried to chase it, but the dog was too fast.

It quickly disappeared somewhere into the vast garden.

There were plenty of gaps in the fence surrounding the estate—so perhaps it had left entirely.

“…”

I stared in the direction the Collie had gone.

I wanted to pet it one more time.

“Piyooh…”

Even Piyo chirped softly, seemingly disappointed.

---

“Ugh…”

Inside a thicket, a well-built man with silver hair and green eyes crouched, gasping in pain.

His body was muscular, and with each breath, his shoulders rose and fell.

Scattered near him were several strands of dog hair.

Still panting heavily, he held his forehead and looked up at the sky.

A perfect full moon bathed the ground in soft light.

“Your Grace! Your Grace!”

Voices called for him.

He furrowed his brows, slowly stood, and reached for the scattered pieces of his clothing nearby.

Soon dressed, he called out to the aide who had been searching for him.

“Over here.”

“Your Grace!”

The aide rushed over and anxiously examined his master, whose shirt was still half open.

“Are you all right, Duke?”

He was Lancelot Ovier, Duke of Montella, ruler of a principality blessed with natural beauty.

He nodded once and began walking.

Not far away, his carriage was waiting.

From the outside, it looked like any noble’s carriage—but when the door opened, it revealed another door made of iron bars.

The problem? The bars were bent and torn open.

“Apologies, Your Grace. We tried to stop you, but…”

“It’s fine. No one can control the Beast Peak.”

He casually pulled off the dangling iron and sat down, reaching for a book placed on the side table inside the carriage.

The soft lighting was just right for reading.

The aide sighed and quietly instructed the driver to set off.

“…”

Beast Peak.

It was a condition passed down in the Ovier ducal family—a curse of beast transformation.

The form and cycle varied by person, but in Duke Lancelot’s case, he turned into a dog.

His transformation occurred once a month and lasted for about a week.

However, he didn’t remain a dog the entire time—only about four hours a day.

The real problem was that during those times, he couldn’t control his actions.

His mind wasn’t completely gone, but he was wholly assimilated into the dog’s instincts and couldn’t stop himself.

This was why he had attacked the Scavengers and sent them a letter that was essentially a declaration of war.

He had heard a rumor that the Scavengers possessed a drug that could control Beast Peak.

Later, he heard that Lady Catrin Elemoer held it instead, so he went to investigate—and ended up turning into a dog and running into her estate.

“…”

Lancelot’s fingers paused as he turned a page in his book.

He recalled the woman’s sparkling eyes as she petted him—then suddenly, the image of those amethyst eyes, glowing with a sinister gleam.

Lady Catrin Elemoer.

#$%&…

He still retained memories of Beast Peak—but he couldn’t understand any of the conversations he had heard while transformed.

What had she said to him, as she petted him with those amused, teasing lips?

What was the color of her smile…?

Lancelot’s emerald eyes wavered.