Isaac stood motionless outside the window, gazing up at the darkening sky. Inside the room, the Prince was enjoying his post-meal tea. Once he finished his cup, Isaac’s shift would begin.

The sky was still bathed in the dusky hues of early evening, yet a harsh, bright moon already hung low over the distant mountains. It was a beautiful full moon.

Time truly flies. With every alternating passing of the new moon and the full moon, time slipped away relentlessly. It felt like only yesterday that the year had begun and he had made his New Year’s wish, yet the sweltering season had already passed, leaving a crisp chill in the air. Once two or three more cycles of the moon passed, the season of bone-deep cold would arrive—and with it, the Great New Moon.

There really wasn’t much time left.

Perhaps the cats were growing anxious as the days bled away, because lately, instead of figuring out a way to find the tinderbox themselves, they had taken to badgering Isaac, demanding to know what he was doing.

The Great New Moon only came once every seven years. If this year’s Great New Moon passed, they would have to wait another seven years. In other words, if he couldn’t find the tinderbox by then, he would be subjected to the relentless torment of those feline bastards for another seven years.

‘I can’t let that happen. Absolutely not.’ “Ugh……” Isaac shuddered, his shoulders shrinking as he shook his head. A few months of this chaotic, discordant life was more than enough for a lifetime.

Besides……

“……”

Isaac glanced back at the three cats who were sitting fearlessly on the windowsill of the Prince’s reception room. Three round little rumps were lined up perfectly in a row.

Seeing them like that reminded him of the quiet moonlit nights when they would sit side by side, whispering stories of their homeland. On peaceful nights, the cats would look up at the moon together and talk about their days living in the Land of Dark Moon. They spoke of their parents, their siblings, their friends—tales thick with longing. Then, at some point, they would all fall silent, simply staring blankly at the moon.

Watching them from behind always left an ache in Isaac’s chest, a heavy tug on his heart that made him think, ‘Right. I really need to send you guys back home this Great New Moon.’

But the problem was: how?

There was barely any time left until the Great New Moon. Considering it only happened once every seven years, it was no exaggeration to say it was practically right in front of his nose, and even that meager time was ticking down by the second.

Anxiety felt like it was rising right up to Isaac’s throat.

How on earth was he supposed to get a tinderbox out of the King’s treasure vault in such a short amount of time? He had no achievements to leverage for a reward, no guarantee of success, and above all, absolutely no time. No matter how much he tore at his hair trying to conjure up an alternative plan, nothing came to mind.

“Do I have to dig a tunnel and steal it…..?” 

He let out a sigh so heavy it felt like the ground might cave in. Just as he turned to glance at the three cats on the windowsill again, his eyes met the Prince’s. The Prince was sitting inside the room, looking right back at him over the three round feline heads.

The Prince, who had been staring impassively at the reflexively frozen Isaac, shifted his gaze to the clock on his desk. Following his gaze, Isaac realized it was time to clock in and hastily hurried inside.

Today, the Prince seemed to be in excellent physical condition, and his mood didn’t appear too terrible either. Being a few seconds late wouldn’t likely summon a lightning bolt of wrath down upon his head, but it was always better to be careful. After all, this was the Blue Shadow Palace—a place where a fatal bolt of lightning could strike at any moment, for any reason.

Hurrying into the reception room, Isaac swapped places with the royal guard of the palace and took his post beside the pillar. The Prince was nearly finished with his tea, or so Isaac thought, until he watched the Prince pour himself another cup and look directly at him.

‘I think I picked a bad spot……’ When the Prince sat at his desk, Isaac’s post placed him at the Prince’s side, which was a relief because it meant they weren’t facing each other directly. But right now, the Prince was sitting on the reception sofa. Dead center.

It was uncomfortable. Deeply uncomfortable. Especially when, as was happening right now, a servant was kneeling at the Prince’s feet, their face buried in his crotch.

Occasionally, the servant, having swallowed the mass of flesh deep into their throat, let out muffled, gagging sounds while diligently performing their fellatio. Even amidst this, the Prince’s low gaze was unspeakably apathetic, bordering on bored. Just as Isaac was thinking the Prince would have made a more pleased expression getting a simple foot massage, the Prince spoke.

“What are you going to steal?”

The Prince asked out of nowhere. Isaac involuntarily let out a dumbfounded, “Pardon?” before remembering the muttering he had done outside the window just moments ago. He flinched, internally marveling at how the Prince had managed to hear that.

“Ah…… Well, there are many things in the world one desires. But I have no real intention of stealing anything.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Isaac saw the cats rolling their eyes in blatant disapproval, tapping their tails against the windowsill. Regardless, Isaac answered with a perfectly straight face. The Prince, observing Isaac with a slight tilt of his head, spoke again.

“What do you want to have.”

“Let’s see. Well, a pretty house, a pretty chicken, a pretty wife…… Just the trivial things necessary to lead a peaceful life……”

The Prince gazed silently at Isaac’s face as he mechanically muttered his rehearsed answer without dropping his stoic expression. The Prince quietly stroked his own chin before saying:

“Is your salary so low that it’s hard to obtain such trivial things?”

“An official’s pay is, by nature, but a meager sum, Your Highness.”

Isaac retorted, remaining entirely serious and straight-faced. The piercing blue eyes scrutinizing his every detail were incredibly nerve-wracking, but Isaac met his gaze unflinchingly. Only his face, though. He had absolutely no desire to let his eyes wander downward, even by mistake.

“Right… Now that I think of it, you did try to claim a reward for your merits before.”

The Prince muttered, almost to himself. He quietly sipped his tea, but his gaze never left Isaac. Isaac had no idea what the man was thinking. It felt like the cold sweat currently gathering at the nape of his neck was about to break out on his forehead at any moment.

However, the Prince said nothing more, eventually setting his empty teacup down on the table. Then, he grabbed the back of the head of the servant whose face was still buried in his groin and shoved downward. He must have thrust agonizingly deep into the throat, because the servant let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

The Prince gripped the servant’s head and began to rock his hips relentlessly. Even as the servant made choked, breathless sounds, they desperately began to work their tongue.

*Thwop, thwop, thwop.* Every time the Prince shoved the servant’s head down, the wet, sickeningly slick sounds mixed with the servant’s strangled groans. The pace began to accelerate.

Isaac, keeping his head perfectly stiff and upright, tried his absolute hardest to unfocus his eyes and not look directly at the scene, even though it was entirely within his field of vision. The Prince’s icy blue eyes, staring a hole straight through him, surprisingly helped keep his gaze anchored in place.

Today was a full moon, and the Prince’s physical stamina was exceptionally high. The servant had already been sucking on the Prince’s member since before Isaac even arrived at the palace, and it seemed they had already swallowed his climax several times over. Yet, the Prince’s desire showed no signs of wilting, remaining swollen and demanding. Knowing the servant’s mouth must be raw and their jaw numb, evidenced by the drool spilling freely from their lips, the involuntary physiological tears streaming down their face, and their neck and collar soaked in the Prince’s semen. Isaac sent them his deepest, most silent sympathies.

On the other hand, Isaac felt a genuine sense of dread at the Prince’s bottomless stamina, which refused to subside no matter how much time passed, full moon or not, while simultaneously feeling completely paralyzed under that piercing, almost accusatory gaze. He couldn’t twitch a single finger.

It had been like this continuously as of late.

After a brief period of relative quiet, the Prince had recently resumed his nearly daily routine of picking a moderately attractive servant to relieve his sexual urges. That in itself wasn’t strange; he had often done so in the past. But there was one glaring problem.

Every single time, Isaac was forced to bear the full weight of the Prince’s gaze.

Whenever the Prince satisfied his lust, he invariably stared at Isaac with that same apathetic face. He did not permit Isaac to subtly slip away or even turn his back. Helplessly, Isaac was forced to stand rigidly in place, bearing full witness to the explicit scene directly in front of him.

He was quite sure this was the main reason he had been having those dreams every night.

“Hkkh…..!”

At that moment, the Prince shoved the servant’s head forcefully against his groin. The servant shrank back, letting out a sound like a beast being strangled. As the servant swallowed reflexively, their throat bobbing multiple times, the semen they couldn’t quite swallow spilled thick and heavy from their lips.

And in that moment, Isaac found himself staring straight into the Prince’s faintly narrowing eyes, tasting that bizarre sensation once again. A deep throbbing heat radiating from deep within his body, a strange chaos, an indistinguishable mix of arousal and profound humiliation, as if he were the one kneeling there in the servant’s place.

It’s because of those eyes. It’s because of the dreams.

‘This is a problem. If this keeps up, I’m going to be in serious trouble.’

As Isaac stood trapped in his inner turmoil, the Prince finally seemed to decide that was enough for today and pushed the servant away. In stark contrast to the servant, who stumbled backward with a soaking wet face, the Prince calmly adjusted his clothing and stood up, looking exactly as if nothing had happened at all.

Isaac thought this every time he saw it, but it was truly fascinating. How could a man who had been viciously releasing his lust just seconds ago have such an incredibly calm, unfazed face? Then again, even at the exact moment of climax, the Prince remained entirely expressionless, at most furrowing his brow just a fraction. So his composure afterward was to be expected.

The Prince glanced out the window at the sky, which had abruptly darkened into the colors of night. He picked up an object he had placed on his desk and walked over to the window. The cats, who had been lying flat on their stomachs along the windowsill, instantly sat up, their rumps wiggling with sheer anticipation.

The treats the Prince absentmindedly placed into the cats’ mouths were softly dried jerky. Made of goat meat. Isaac watched with a complicated expression as the three cats, utterly beside themselves with joy, purred and rubbed against the Prince with eyes full of fervent adoration.

Whatever wind had blown into him, the Prince had recently taken to handing over morsels of food to those three little beasts. In the process, he had completely memorized their tastes, feeding them premium goat jerky or roasted meats. Just a few days ago, he had even fed them pickled goat meat marinated in wine. Watching the three of them writhe on the floor in a stupor, looking exactly like cats who had gotten deeply into a patch of silvervine, the Prince had muttered, “Your palates are exactly like a witch’s,” before casually pouring them a little more wine.

‘They actually are witches……’ Isaac thought. ‘To hand over something so expensive to cats with such utterly foul tempers……’ Isaac couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud and simply watched them with complex emotions. Perhaps sensing Isaac’s gaze, the Prince suddenly turned his head.

“Do you have something to say?”

“………… No. I do not.”

No matter how detestable those little monsters acted, they had still eaten from the same pot and lived together for months now. He couldn’t just kill them—even if he died, he wasn’t going to die alone…… Isaac, shaking his head, found the Prince still watching him, his eyes clearly demanding that Isaac speak his mind if he had something to say. Having desperately tried to pull his eyes away from the hypocritical cats, who had already swallowed all their jerky and were now licking the tips of the Prince’s fingers to coax out another piece, Isaac hesitated, mumbling before the words spilled out on impulse.

“Well…… I would appreciate it if you didn’t look at me. Is it possible for you not to look?”

The Prince stared blankly at Isaac. Isaac, instantly regretting his words and shrinking internally, heard the Prince ask.

“Look at what.”

“……. When you are resolving your urges, Your Highness. I would appreciate it if you did not look in my direction.”

“Why.”

“It makes me feel awkward.”

“Why.”

Isaac had thought he was making a perfectly reasonable request, but the Prince’s utterly nonchalant counter-questions left him momentarily speechless. Why? Because,

‘Because it makes me feel strange. Because I dream about it every night. Because it feels threatening.’ ……He couldn’t readily admit to any of those things. So, stumbling over his words, Isaac offered the only excuse he could think of:

“I feel that my face might ruin your mood, Your Highness.”

He said it, and immediately hurt his own feelings. Seeing Isaac subtly pout his lips in dismay, the Prince nodded as if he had been convinced.

“Your face certainly isn’t to my taste.”

For him to agree so readily…… On one hand, Isaac was grateful, but on the other, his feelings were incredibly complex. As Isaac blinked slowly, struggling to find a response, the Prince looked at him through narrowed eyes and murmured.

“But your reactions are rather amusing.”

The Prince lightly dusted off his left hand, having handed over the last of the jerky, turned away, and went to sit on the sofa. Isaac was flustered for a second, unsure how to reply, but the Prince picked up a book he hadn’t quite finished reading without demanding an answer.

Once the Prince started reading, it was a relief. Seeing the Prince begin to turn the pages, Isaac finally let out a small breath of relief. The other servants, too, seemed somewhat reassured once the Prince started his book, and returned to their respective duties.

Standing perfectly straight, his head facing forward but his eyes lowered to steal glances at the Prince, Isaac watched him. Leaning diagonally against the sofa, his eyes cast down at the pages, the Prince seemed to radiate a slightly brighter, more luminous aura than usual, perhaps because it was a full moon.

The Prince was a far more lenient master than outsiders fearfully imagined him to be. He was utterly ruthless when it came to punishment, but as long as one paid careful attention to their choice of words and behavior, he wasn’t a terrible master to serve. Even what happened just a moment ago proved it. He was a Prince who rarely conversed with his subordinates, but once a conversation began, one could speak with him quite freely. In a world teeming with authoritarian nobles who demanded nothing but an unconditional “Yes, Your Highness,” the Prince – an object of universal terror – was surprisingly magnanimous in that regard.

Furthermore, Natasha and the Chamberlain had mentioned that His Highness seemed to have softened lately. They said he had become milder compared to before, making it much easier to survive the nights of the Great New Moon. It was certainly true that things felt more stable now compared to the days when he was constantly cloaked in killing intent, unleashing the beasts of the forest every few days. Though serving him still felt as precarious as walking on thin ice, it felt as though that thin ice had grown thicker by perhaps the width of a single hair.

…… Well, if it’s better for them, then that’s a good thing. Even though Isaac himself, who had essentially become medicinal fodder used up every New Moon, was living day by day with a heart wrapped in an anxiety worse than walking on thin ice…… If his sacrifice made someone else even a little happier, then it was a good thing. Right.

Isaac let out a quiet, sorrowful sigh.

At that moment. The Prince, hearing the sound, lifted his gaze.

Never expecting the Prince to suddenly look up in the middle of reading, Isaac, who had been secretly studying him with lowered eyes, locked eyes with him directly. He maintained an agonizingly awkward silence for several seconds before slowly, shiftily averting his gaze. Sweating profusely as the day felt suddenly hotter, Isaac heard:

“Are you sick?”

“No, I am not. My body feels a bit sluggish, but I am not sick.”

“It seems your condition deteriorates periodically like this. You seemed unwell for no particular reason last time as well.”

“…… Uh… I have never been particularly healthy to begin with…… plus, I didn’t sleep very well last night. It isn’t exactly that my condition fluctuates periodically, Your Highness.”

Fearing that looking away would make him seem suspicious, Isaac deliberately stared straight at the Prince as he answered. The Prince watched Isaac silently before opening his mouth again.

“If your body is that weak, it is a flaw for an escort guard.”

“Yes, it is fortunate that the one I serve is you, Prince Kyan. Even if my condition is poor, I can rest easy. You even told me once that you would save me at least one time if I were in danger, so I rely on you greatly.”

Half of the flattery came out mechanically, but the other half was entirely sincere. Isaac looked up at the full moon hanging round in the sky outside the window, paused for a moment, and added:

“However, if it is a truly perilous situation…… you do not have to save me.”

If his existence caused the Prince to fall into danger, that was absolutely not what Isaac wanted. As Isaac spoke calmly and looked back, the Prince merely stared at him in silence, offering no response. Having spoken empty words, Isaac felt a bit embarrassed. So, to gloss over it, he quickly changed the subject.

“Still, a full moon like tonight is nice because it sets my mind at ease. On nights like this, even the witch would lay low, and since your condition is so excellent, Your Highness……”

The Prince, still watching Isaac, merely gave a light nod instead of answering.

Since the day the Wizard Guild Master died, the quiet, uneventful days had continued without incident. Yet Isaac could not let his guard down; a part of his heart had spent every day gripped by tension. Furthermore, they still had not managed to track down the whereabouts of the young wizard who had vanished.

“Earlier, as I was briefly organizing the book you were reading, Your Highness, I saw something that suggested that if one possesses the heart and eyes of a witch, they can track the traces of another witch……”

Isaac brought it up, pretending to be nonchalant, and subtly gauged the Prince’s reaction. The Prince nodded without any change in expression.

“A witch’s heart and eyes can be obtained. I will have them in my hands by the next New Moon.”

“…….”

‘I suppose that heart and those eyes are meant to be mine, then…..’

Isaac couldn’t say a word. The Prince added, “There is one problem, however,” and frowned slightly.

“If the Witch of Roberni continues to lay low until the Great New Moon like this, it will be troublesome.”

If they couldn’t encounter the Witch of Roberni – or at least an avatar sent by her – even once, no matter how they obtained a witch’s heart and eyes, they couldn’t cast the tracking spell on her. If they missed this Great New Moon, they would have to wait another seven years, in order to fulfill his desire of annihilating them all at the gathering place where all the witches congregated.

Isaac was struck dumb for a long while. He had absolutely no idea what to say, or how to say it. It was entirely unclear to him whether he wanted the Prince’s wish to come true, or the opposite.

“……She will probably appear at least once before then. Or perhaps that witch might try to eliminate you first, Your Highness……”

“That would be preferable.”

Listening to the Prince reply so casually, Isaac fell back into silence.

His mind was incredibly complicated. It was tangled over what the Prince desired, and it was tangled over the immediate crisis looming before him.

The Prince had promised to save Isaac’s life once, but as it stood right now, ‘Isaac’ and the ‘Witch of the New Moon’ were two separate entities. Currently, the Prince seemed determined to endure the agony of the New Moon again to steal the heart and eyes from the Witch of the New Moon. If Isaac were to say, ‘Actually, that was me all along,’ would the Prince really spare him? He might get his head lopped off immediately just for the crime of deceiving royalty. And even if he managed to hide it, once the New Moon arrived, the Prince would kill Isaac to harvest his heart and eyes anyway.

…… What in the world am I supposed to do about this……

Isaac tore at his hair internally. His expression must have looked remarkably grim, because the Prince suddenly glanced at Isaac and raised an eyebrow.

“Do you have something to say?”

“………….. You said you would save my life once, did you not?”

Isaac forced the words out, feeling as though he were grasping at straws. The Prince looked at Isaac silently for a moment before nodding, a gesture telling him to continue.

“Could I…… perhaps ask you to save another life instead of mine…..?”

If he asked the Prince to save the life of the witch who came on the New Moon, although it would raise a host of complicated questions about how he knew the witch, all of those things were secondary concerns in the face of imminent death. He could figure those out later. Isaac spoke, pinning his hopes on a thread as thin as spider silk, wondering if there was even a fraction of a chance.

The answer did not come back immediately.

“…………?”

Enough time had passed for a response to return, whether it was an affirmation or a denial, yet the heavy silence remained unbroken. Unable to look the Prince in the eye while speaking, Isaac had kept his head bowed and muttered his request. Even after a long while with no reaction, Isaac slowly, very slowly, lifted his gaze from where it had been glued to the Prince’s feet.

He locked eyes with the Prince.

In that instant, Isaac violently flinched.

The Prince was looking at Isaac with an expression so bizarrely blank, as if he had just heard something entirely unfathomable, and yet, at the same time, his stare was so chilling it made Isaac’s heart run freezing cold.

“Another life.”

The Prince muttered low. That flat, deadpan voice was no different from usual, yet the temperature in it was strangely, drastically lower.

“Is there someone you wish to save in your place, even at the cost of throwing away your own chance to live?”

The Prince asked. A face more lethargic than usual, a cadence slower than usual. Why did it feel so alien? Why did it make his blood run so cold?

“Rather than replacing me…… it’s because there is someone whose situation seems more urgent than mine……”

“Who?”

Isaac’s words caught in his throat. He couldn’t readily answer ‘who’ right here and now, and his chest stung sharply under the piercing blue eyes fixed upon him. He didn’t know the reason for 

this overwhelming sense of anxiety, but it was an unmistakable omen of warning.

“Tell me. I will listen and then decide. Who is this person you wish to save?”

The Prince asked again. Unable to tear his eyes away from those blue irises, Isaac’s lips merely twitched. It was an unexpected interrogation. Whether he said yes or no, Isaac thought the Prince he knew would have just given a curt, concise answer.

“Who is it?”

The Prince’s voice dropped to a sinister hush. Just as the faint killing intent seeping through that question reached Isaac.

Something completely unexpected happened.

The maid, who had been organizing the teapot and cups on the table and stepping back behind the Prince, suddenly fell toward him.

No, she didn’t fall. She threw her entire body at the Prince.

The moment Isaac saw her approaching with dead, unfocused eyes, he simultaneously felt that something was horribly wrong. At the exact moment the presence struck from behind, the Prince twisted his body, but he was half a step too late. The small, wickedly sharp blade the maid held in one hand slashed a long gash across the Prince’s arm. If he hadn’t dodged, the blade would have buried itself deep into his back. The moment the blood touched it, the blade instantly turned pitch-black.

It was poison.

“……!”

Isaac kicking away from his post and the Prince drawing his sword to cleanly sever the maid’s head happened at almost the exact same time.

The headless body remained standing perfectly straight, took one rigid step toward the Prince, and a geyser of black blood erupted from the severed neck. The Prince swiftly ripped off the tablecloth to block the spurting blood, but the moment the blood hit the fabric, it instantly sizzled, smoking and burning through. The maid’s blood, her entire body itself, was a massive, walking lump of poison.

Isaac, who had frantically thrown himself behind the sofa to hide, clicked his tongue in dismay as he saw a few splattered drops of blood burn black, festering holes into the hem of his clothes. At the same time, his heart sank heavily.

They’re here.

The Witch of Roberni.