Chapter 42: Lucia

Carl's expression remained unchanged—this kind of treatment was expected, given his status.

The golden-armored guard at the front slowly stood up. Unlike the others, her armor pattern indicated that she was a woman—the only female among them.

She stepped forward, raising her hands to remove the heavy golden helmet. As it came off, long black hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall.

She looked at Carl with soft yet steady eyes.

"Master Carl, I am Lucia, captain of the third squad of the Figarland Family Guards. Do you still remember me?"

Carl was momentarily stunned. He searched his memories while studying the woman before him.

She wasn't very old, and even the heavy armor couldn't hide her elegant figure. The exposed skin above her neck was smooth, and her delicate face was framed by striking amber eyes.

But what stood out the most was a small scar beneath her left eye.

That scar sparked a memory—one from before Carl had been subjected to Darian's experiments.

---

Before the age of six, Carl had lived a pampered life in the palace, just like other Celestial Dragons.

Lucia had been a slave bought by Garling at an auction in the Sabaody Archipelago.

Unlike most Celestial Dragons, Garling had no particular sadistic tendencies. He had chosen Lucia because the auctioneer had introduced her as a princess.

Her homeland had not been affiliated with the World Government. Weak and defenseless, it had been razed by pirates.

Almost her entire royal family had been slaughtered, and Lucia herself had survived only by hiding under a bed. When the pirates found her, they sold her off along with the kingdom's remaining treasures.

Among the other enslaved children, Lucia had stood out because of her noble lineage. Garling had taken a liking to her and purchased her as a fourth birthday gift for Carl.

Unlike most Celestial Dragons, the Figarland family had a comparatively "better" reputation. And Carl, only four years old at the time, had no understanding of what it meant to own a slave.

Lucia had been terrified of him at first. She had heard from her parents about the cruelty of Celestial Dragons—the way they treated kings like insects to be crushed on a whim.

But Carl had never treated her as a slave.

He had been kept isolated in the family estate by Darian since birth, so when he finally met a child close to his age, he had cherished her company.

At meals, he insisted that Lucia sit beside him. He often called for her to play childish games he had learned from his nanny.

Carl still remembered how they used to play house together. With just the two of them, they had simply pretended to be a married couple.

At first, he had called her "sister," but Lucia had quickly corrected him.

She understood the danger of such a title. If anyone heard that a slave was being addressed as a sister by a Celestial Dragon, no matter how close their bond was, she would disappear—forever.

For two years, they lived in a peaceful bubble.

Lucia, once terrified, gradually opened her heart.

She even found herself thinking—perhaps being Carl's slave for life wouldn't be so bad.

But fate had other plans.

---

One day, when Carl was six, Darian suddenly appeared with a strange man—a scientist with an abnormally large head.

Carl had been listening to Lucia read him a story at the time.

Before he could greet his father, Darian had grabbed him by the waist and carried him off.

Lucia hadn't seen him since.

Fear consumed her in his absence.

Only then did she realize—without Carl, the Figarland estate was nothing more than a gilded cage.

She was that helpless little girl again, the one who had lost her country, her family.

Carl had been the light that illuminated her world. And now, that light had vanished.

Every day, she had waited, hoping he would return. Dreaming of the moment she could hold him and tell him how much she had missed him.

But days turned into weeks, weeks into months. No one spoke of Carl anymore—as if he had become a forbidden topic.

Still, she hadn't given up.

Until one day, while cleaning the courtyard, she overheard two strangers in white coats whispering.

They wore the same attire as the odd scientist who had stood beside Darian that day.

Curious, Lucia crept closer, straining to hear their conversation.

"That last gene injection hit him hard. I don't know how much longer that kid can survive."

"Honestly, it's a miracle he's still alive. He's a Celestial Dragon, but still… What kind of experiment is this?"

"Shut up. It's not our concern. We're just assistants. We follow Dr. Vegapunk's orders, nothing more."

The broom slipped from Lucia's fingers, clattering against the stone pavement.

She sprinted forward, blocking their path, her voice trembling.

"Are you... talking about Lord Carl?"

The two men exchanged alarmed glances. One of them shot her a glare before grabbing his colleague's arm and dragging him away.

Lucia stood frozen.

It wasn't until the head maid scolded her that she forced herself back to work, shoving down the rising panic in her heart.

But that night, she didn't return to the servants' quarters.

Instead, she followed the path the scientists had taken earlier, walking until she reached an unfamiliar sight—a pristine white building, isolated from the rest of the estate.

She hid behind a flower bed, watching.

Two golden-armored guards stood at the entrance. She knew better than to approach.

Just as she was about to turn back, a desperate, hoarse scream erupted from within the building.

"Let me out! Father—why are you doing this to me?!"

Lucia's blood ran cold.

She knew that voice.

It was Carl.

The guards at the door barely reacted. One of them chuckled.

"Lord Carl's at it again. Judging by the sound, today's dose must've been strong."

"Yeah, but he'll quiet down soon enough. That kid's lasted longer than I expected. Guess that Figarland blood is good for something."

Then, one of them stiffened.

"Wait... did something just move over there?"

They turned toward the flower bed where Lucia had been moments ago.

But she was already gone.

The only trace left behind was a few drops of water—tears, nearly dried on the cold stone ground.