A long time ago, in the age of legends, humanity was threatened by dragons and stood on the brink of extinction. Brave knights fought valiantly, but humans were too weak. When all hope was lost, another dragon appeared—not as an enemy, but as an ally. His reason for helping humanity was his love for a certain knight. When the evil dragon who wished to destroy the world vanished and peace returned, the helpful dragon and his beloved knight became pillars of a new kingdom. This dragon bestowed blessings upon the kingdom, promising that a person carrying the dragon's power would appear in the royal lineage from generation to generation. Thus, kings imbued with the dragon's strength ruled over the land for generations. However, the kings inherited not only power but also the dragon's inherent cruelty. To balance this, a Regas—someone capable of taming dragons—always remained at the king's side. The Regas stood closer to the king than anyone else and earned his deepest trust. As time passed and the dragon’s powerful bloodline thinned, the necessity for Regas diminished greatly. Yet, by then, the Regas had already become a symbol of peace and the king’s most trusted advisor. Gradually, their role shifted—they were no longer taming dragons, but instead, the people around the king. “That’s why looks originally never mattered for a Regas! It was a grave mistake to train attractive people as Regas solely to please the king. How are they any different from court jesters?” Abel had heard this complaint hundreds of times but couldn’t help questioning his disgruntled master again. “So what exactly does a Regas need then… um… climbing cliffs, is that it?” They had finally reached their destination after hours of climbing cliffs, leaving their arms and legs trembling from exhaustion. But the master, waiting above, offered no assistance and continued his ranting. “What a Regas truly needs is communication! Only someone who can commune with all of nature—trees, grass, birds, even the wind—can approach dragons. Patience to tame dragons and a resilient character to endure their nasty temper are essential! Originally, a Regas was someone who guided and tempered the king’s instincts. They weren’t weaklings obsessed with appearances or sexual pleasures!” The master’s voice rose in anger. Pride in training true Regas showed clearly in his eyes, though his shabby clothes exposed his current poverty. Long ago, he had indeed raised a genuine Regas, one who became a spiritual partner to a king, but now Abel was his only disciple. People had long since forgotten a Regas’s true role, dismissing them as mere royal concubines. Abel himself questioned the usefulness of dragon-taming techniques, especially when they involved exhausting cliff-climbing. “Ugh… haa… haa…” Even Abel, strong and sturdy from his rural upbringing, groaned in exhaustion. After climbing for hours, he barely made it to the top and collapsed, trembling. The indifferent master nudged him gently, urging him onward. “Come on, get up. We must pick mushrooms before sunset.” Abel sighed and forced his exhausted body up. Ten years had passed since he had become the master's disciple. Becoming a Regas had never been Abel’s ambition. Ten years ago, he was only an eight-year-old orphan from a village ravaged by war, desperately close to starvation, unwanted and abandoned. The master had saved him purely by chance, and Abel had no choice but to repay his kindness by learning anything he taught. Yet becoming a Regas had seemed ridiculous to him. What was a Regas, anyway? Wasn’t it the king’s spiritual companion, famed as the most beautiful person in the kingdom? Abel’s large, rough appearance hardly fit that role. Nowadays, Regas were trained at a luxurious place known as the "King’s Heart." Yet his master insisted their humble sect was where true Regas were raised. Historically, their sect had indeed produced authentic Regas who became genuine companions to the king, albeit rarely. The master emphasized inner qualities and wisdom over physical attractiveness, though Abel found this dubious considering their shabby appearance and the master’s odd personality. Nevertheless, Abel followed without complaint. Recently, his training had intensified due to his master’s growing concern. Eight years ago, rumors spread that a royal child was born bearing the dragon’s mark. Given the weakened dragon bloodline, the master was gravely worried—what if this child truly possessed dragon power? If they couldn't control him, the kingdom might even face destruction. The queen occupied a position envied by all. Though born a poor noble’s daughter, her beauty caught the king’s attention, elevating her to royalty. Yet, kings with dragon blood historically preferred men due to their connection with Regas, leaving the queen to realize quickly that she was merely a vessel for heirs. Allowed only one monthly meeting with the king, their interactions were strictly functional—silent, mechanical couplings with no affection or conversation. Initially, she convinced herself she could endure such treatment. After all, she had willingly chosen this life to escape the humiliation of poverty, forced to feed pigs despite her noble status. No dowry meant no marriage prospects; becoming queen was her only escape. She believed her extraordinary beauty would captivate the king. Surely, even a ruler surrounded by riches and gorgeous Regas would eventually fall for her, giving her ultimate power. Everyone who had scorned and belittled her would soon tremble before her. Yet reality struck harshly. On her wedding night, the king left without a word. Their monthly encounters thereafter were brief, cold acts devoid of emotion. Her attempts to converse resulted in punishment: confinement without food or water. Though surrounded by luxurious dresses and jewelry, her chambers became a prison. Humiliated, she had to beg through door cracks for scraps of bread. Eventually, she abandoned hope of gaining the king’s favor entirely. Over two years, she came to dread even the king’s footsteps and voice. Now utterly ignored, with her role reduced to bearing a prince with dragon powers, she endured humiliation, hoping a son would secure her position. At last, after two years, she bore a child—her final hope. But upon seeing her son’s eyes, she recoiled. “Oh! Take that away from me!” She screamed involuntarily upon seeing her child’s eyes for the first time. “No, wait! Bring me my child, not that devil!” The newborn cried bitterly, startled by his mother’s screams. The maid holding the child trembled, pale with terror. The queen was right—the child was evil. How else could he be born with such horrifying eyes? Eyes like a serpent’s. Rumors quickly reached the queen, confirming her worst fears. Her child bore the dragon’s mark yet showed no power—only monstrous, hateful eyes. The attendants murmured sympathetically that perhaps the child’s powers would manifest later, but the queen heard nothing. Her son had brought even greater shame. Her palace now seemed more repulsive than the pigsty she’d escaped. With no escape, she became a mere shadow of a queen, mother to a cursed child the king refused to see. On his only visit after the birth, the king mocked her bitterly: “She promised me a dragon-powered heir, yet gave me a snake-eyed wretch with no abilities! How amusing!” The king never returned. His sarcasm drove her hatred deeper, fueling resentment toward her son. Only an attendant sympathized, providing medicine to soothe her anguish and whispering warnings: “Guide the child carefully, or he'll truly become a demon.” The medicine calmed her fears, clarifying her purpose. Left alone, this child would indeed become evil. She took action, initially with pinches, harsh grips, and spitting hateful curses at him, escalating quickly to bloody injuries. The king, busy entertaining himself with attractive Regas, only deepened her rage. His cruel words haunted her. Each humiliation, each abandonment, was due solely to this cursed child. The queen who once sought to control the devil gradually became a devil herself.