Deokbong’s heart pounded like it would burst.
A prince.
The Grand Prince, no less.
Standing before the Lord of Wolhanseong was enough to shrink Deokbong’s courage. He was born timid, never daring to dream big or handle great wealth. Anything too precious or fine felt like a burden.
So, gathering herbs to scrape by day-to-day suited him.
“You’ve trekked the mountains long.”
Yet, he caught the Lord of Wolhanseong’s eye. Her chilling gaze made him want to flee, but he couldn’t defy the lord of the castle he’d lived in all his life. One day, he was suddenly chosen to lead the vanguard when Wolhanseong’s soldiers went beast-hunting.
That was ten years ago. Had his courage grown? He no longer trembled before the lord. Still, the army’s gleaming spears and swords made his heart leap.
But now.
“Guide His Highness.”
A prince, of all things.
Not just any prince, but the infamous mad prince, Grand Prince Ikwon. One wrong word, and his head might roll. He’d never heard of the mad prince beheading anyone, but who knows?
To such highborn folk, was a lowly man’s life worth anything? No different from a fly’s.
It wasn’t just the lord or the prince’s own men in the party. If the mad prince caused a scene or flew into a rage, who’d stop him? The soldiers couldn’t restrain a prince. They couldn’t touch his precious body.
He was as good as dead.
The journey would be grueling, yet the prince insisted on finding beasts himself. He’d surely tire halfway and demand to turn back. Better to turn around from the start. Clutching his trembling heart, Deokbong urged retreat.
But the prince refused, insisting on seeing a beast before returning. He even said he didn’t mind camping.
Letting the noble Grand Prince sleep on the dirt, spending a night with the mad prince—it weighed on Deokbong.
The prince’s striking appearance only added to the burden. He belonged in a grand palace, not sleeping beside an ignorant man like Deokbong. It was absurd.
“I set up the tent.”
But it wasn’t as he feared.
“Nothing scary happened.
“It might be a bit rough for a first try.”
The mad prince laughed heartily.
“How’s it look?”
The tents he pitched were precise, not the work of a novice.
But a prince pitching camping tents? Unthinkable.
Deokbong glanced at the others. They seemed surprised too, puzzled by the prince’s unexpected skill.
“Finished cleaning up? Let’s eat.”
Dinner time came quickly. No rest was given, but the prince was hungry, so what could they do? Deokbong unpacked his heavy load, pulling out food for supper.
He gathered twigs for a fire and held flint. The mad prince crouched beside him, so close. Deokbong’s heart tightened as he struck the flint.
Clack, clack.
Too nervous with the prince nearby, his hands didn’t work as usual.
“Not working?”
The mad prince asked. Deokbong, focused on sparking, jumped in fright.
“Looks like it’s not. I’ll help.”
The prince snatched the flint. Clack, clack. A few strikes, and a flame caught. The spark lit dry leaves. The prince handled it like it was nothing.
A small thing, but significant. The mad prince doing menial work? Could there be a less fitting pairing?
Deokbong cautiously placed a pot over the fire, starting to simmer dried rations. Worries crept in. What if the prince threw it out, calling it crude? Anxious, he added rice and rations to the pot. If the prince didn’t eat, he’d struggle to move tomorrow. Another worry—he poured water into the pot.
The fire grew, and the pot began to boil. The prince stayed by the fire, pestering Deokbong. When he didn’t leave, Hondon approached too.
“Done yet? I’m hungry, so hurry up.”
The prince urged. Deokbong’s trembling hands ladled porridge into a bowl for the prince, fearing it might fly at his head.
But nothing like that happened. The prince sat casually and ate, no different from the others. No complaints, no grumbling.
Deokbong finally relaxed a bit.
“Well eaten. Let’s rest and then sleep.”
The prince sat by the fire for a while. His profile, lit red by the flames, held a strange allure.
By the fire, he seemed a fire spirit; against the mountains, a sage descended from the heavens. In a palace, he’d be unmistakably a noble prince.
One thing was clear: his noble status was unmistakable anywhere.
The fearsome Lord of Wolhanseong, the even higher royal family. And among them, the notorious mad prince, Grand Prince Ikwon, was right there. Even in the tent, he was a step away.
That night was tough and bittersweet for Deokbong.
The next day.
They set out early. Deokbong led the way, random thoughts drifting through his mind.
The Lord of Wolhanseong wasn’t stingy with money. The pay for this job could buy summer clothes for his family.
Thinking this, he noticed the mad prince nearby.
“Wha—what!”
Startled, Deokbong nearly jumped. He shouldn’t have.
“Ugh!”
He slipped and fell. Bracing for impact, he shut his eyes, but no crash came. Opening them, the mad prince was gripping his grass-stained arm firmly.
“Y-Your Highness, uh, uh…”
Shocked, Deokbong stammered, eyes wide, not thinking to stand. A beat late, he scrambled up.
“S-sorry, my apologies…”
A chuckle. The prince laughed, gesturing with his chin to keep going. It was okay. Deokbong, face burning, resumed walking.
How far had they gone when a cave appeared? Not sudden—he knew a huge rock cave was around here. Going further was forbidden. Beyond was too dangerous. He’d lost a fellow herb gatherer trying to explore it. He never wanted to see such horror again. Deokbong spoke.
“I’ve never gone beyond here.”
“Really?”
The prince, sounding disappointed, scanned the area. Spotting the cave, he stared at it, intrigued.
“Can’t we check it out?”
“Well…”
“If it’s an issue, I’ll go alone.”
Disastrous words. Sending the prince alone was unthinkable. Deokbong nearly groveled, pleading.
“N-no, that won’t do.”
If they had to check, he begged to take others. The prince nodded.
“Alright.”
Deokbong led, stepping forward. Never having been here, he was scared, but he couldn’t flee. Holding a torch, he entered the cave. It was far damper and eerier than outside. Shadows danced on the dark walls in the torchlight.
He was anxious. And scared. Deokbong wanted to go home. He’d bathe in hot water first.
To wash away this damp chill…
Then, his foot slipped. The second time today. A herb gatherer for years, and he couldn’t walk properly? Pathetic.
The ground gave way.
“Aaagh!”
Deokbong screamed. Sliding with the collapsing floor, he dropped the torch. It hit the ground, flames bursting.
“Deokbong!”
The mad prince called. Oddly, Deokbong felt moved that the prince remembered his name.
But what use was that if he died? Wealth and fame meant nothing in death. Feeling this keenly, he got up.
Had he twisted his ankle earlier? His left foot throbbed. How could he trek back like this? Darkness loomed. A herb gatherer tripping in the mountains? Why such a foolish act? A sigh came first.
Above, the party’s panicked voices echoed. They didn’t know what happened either. Looking up, Deokbong shouted.
“I’m okay!”
The mad prince brought a torch to where he’d fallen. That the prince, not the soldiers, worried first was touching.
As light spread, Deokbong saw where he’d landed.
But before he could process, an ominous feeling hit.
Looking around, he gasped.
The cavern was filled with giant eggs. Eggs big enough to hold a grown man.