IARMDH Chapter 25

 

 

 

“Erne, you know how to get rid of that bug, don’t you? Then help her out a little. Don’t you feel sorry for her?”

 

Henry, perhaps having grown attached in such a short time, looked at the fallen Judith with pity.

 

“I don’t know exactly. I just know someone who does.”

 

“Then tell me who that person is. I’ll take the madam to them, and you can carry on with your plan.”

 

Erne’s face remained expressionless as he looked at the packed luggage, but his eyes betrayed his complicated emotions.

 

Henry assumed it was because his plan to chase down Cliff and uncover the truth behind the deaths was going awry, but that wasn’t the case.

 

The moment Erne saw the familiar silk pouch, he realized that this was no mere coincidence.

 

“Erne.”

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it before I leave.”

 

Whether it was chance or fate, he could have turned a blind eye and walked away—but Judith weighed on his mind.

 

The liquor she had reluctantly obtained for him, swallowing her pride, and the horse she bought as a parting gift made him hesitate.

 

Even though her hands trembled as she paid for the horse, as if she were giving away her own flesh, it was impressive that she did it despite her reluctance… wasn’t it?

 

…Was it really impressive? Could you even call it that?

 

He had given up his title as a Count, his estate, and even saved her life twice—surely, he deserved a horse in return?

 

“But who is this person? The one who knows about that bug. Are they someone important?”

 

Henry asked, sounding concerned.

 

“There must be a reason you didn’t suggest going to them from the start.”

 

“They’re not an important person—just a woman living in the slums on the outskirts of the capital.”

 

He simply didn’t want to see her again, if he could help it.

 

***

 

A scratching sound.

 

Scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch—

 

The sound of a bug gnawing away right beside her eardrum made Judith scratch at her ear frantically.

 

That thing was surely chewing away at her very life.

 

Wouldn’t she be able to survive if she got rid of that bug?

 

Judith grabbed the silk pouch and threw it straight into the fireplace. Flames flared up instantly.

 

No matter how formidable a man-eating bug it was, it couldn’t possibly survive fire, could it?

 

She shoved more firewood into the flames, forcing herself to ignore her anxiety.

 

But a few hours later—

 

“You might hate it, but you can’t just leave it lying around anywhere.”

 

“…What?”

 

Erne, who had gone out early in the morning, returned holding the yellow silk pouch.

 

“I—I burned that!”

 

“I found it in the middle of the hallway.”

 

How? How was it in the middle of the hallway?

 

Judith snatched the silk pouch from Erne’s hands and this time, she dunked it straight into a bucket of water.

 

No matter how extraordinary it was, it was still a living thing. Unless it was a fish, it would suffocate and die underwater.

 

But she had miscalculated.

 

When she went to the kitchen to prepare a meal, she nearly fainted upon seeing the silk pouch dangling from a shelf.

 

How was it coming back? The bug at least had legs—it could have crawled away. But the pouch?

 

And why was it completely unburnt, without a single scorch mark?

 

“If it were that easy to get rid of, do you think the entire Count’s family would have been wiped out?”

 

“Am I going to die like this, Sir Erne? Eaten by a bug?”

 

There were thousands of ways to die, yet she had to be devoured by an insect? Not by a wolf, nor a bear—but by a bug that resembled her?

 

Was this the reason she had transmigrated?

 

Losing her appetite, Judith put down the bread she had been spreading jam on.

 

“I found someone who knows a way. Finish your meal.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah. We’ll go see them later.”

 

Judith let out a sigh of relief, but a question suddenly came to mind.

 

“Who is it?”

 

“My mother’s sibling.”

 

“If it’s your mother’s sibling… you mean your uncle?”

 

Erne shook his head briefly.

 

“Then it must be your aunt. Why say ‘mother’s sibling’ when there’s a word for ‘aunt’?”

 

Erne’s gaze turned cold.

 

He didn’t consider that person close enough to be called an aunt. In fact, she was no better than a stranger—perhaps even worse.

 

***

 

Was he fifteen? Or sixteen?

 

It was the year Erne had just been knighted and assigned to the order.

 

He had been ordered to investigate a house rumored to be haunted—alone. It was a hazing ritual for new recruits, a prank by senior knights.

 

Since Erne didn’t believe in ghosts, he scoffed and set off to investigate.

 

The so-called haunted house was a small, old cabin at the edge of the forest.

 

The place was ordinary and well-kept. It had simply been abandoned for a long time, leading to ghost stories.

 

Pretending to investigate, Erne opened drawers and cabinets, going through the place. Then, under the wooden floorboards, he found a bag of gold coins.

 

Inside the sack—large enough to fit his torso—was a small, yellow silk pouch.

 

Inside the pouch was a single gold nugget.

 

Without thinking, Erne pocketed it.

 

Since he had discovered the treasure, he figured he had the right to keep at least that much.

 

Then, he completely forgot about it.

 

Months passed.

 

Then, on the day he received a huge reward, Erne coughed up blood for the first time.

 

Day by day, he grew weaker.

 

Blood trickled from his ears, his nose bled frequently, and soon he was coughing up so much blood that he was bedridden for days.

 

He thought he was going to die.

 

It was then that he thought of his mother.

 

In his memories, she was always drunk, slurring that he had ruined her life.

 

Still, before he died, he wanted to see her one last time.

 

Gathering all the money he had saved, Erne set off to find her.

 

If he showed up empty-handed, he knew she wouldn’t welcome him. And what use was money to a dead man anyway?

 

He considered it repayment.

 

His mother had been abandoned after giving birth to the bastard son of a Count.

 

Despite eight years of extreme poverty and self-loathing, she had kept him alive.

 

Erne, struggling with his illness, finally arrived at his childhood home.

 

But his mother was gone.

 

Instead, he met his grandmother and his aunt, Camilla.

 

And from that day on, Erne hovered on the brink of death.

 

He lost track of time.

 

When he finally came to, Camilla, her voice filled with resentment, was throwing him out.

 

 

“Leave. Never come back.”

 

 

He never got to hear the full story.

 

And strangely enough, a few days later, his body had fully recovered.

 

He never searched for his mother again.

 

Then, two years ago—just before the Empress Consort rebelled—Camilla came looking for Erne.

 

She had the desperate look of someone in dire need of money.

 

Without a word, Erne handed her some.

 

Camilla, looking ashamed, gave him a slip of paper with an address.

 

 

“If you ever want to hear the story, come find me.”

 

 

A story? Was it about his mother? Or his grandmother?

 

Erne didn’t really care.

 

His mother’s face was already fading from his memory—what was the point of hearing old stories?

 

He had simply considered the money he gave as repaying the debt of a childhood life saved.

 

But the moment Erne saw the yellow silk pouch again at the Rainland estate, he realized the ‘story’ Camilla had mentioned wasn’t about his mother at all.

 

It was about this strange insect.

 

When he first heard about the deaths of the Rainland family, he briefly recalled the silk pouch and the golden larva.

 

He wasn’t sure exactly what happened to people who died because of the bug, but he had dismissed the thought.

 

He never imagined that the bug had been in the Rainland estate.

 

How did the silk pouch he had picked up as a child end up there?

 

Whether he liked it or not, it was time to find out.

 

***

 

Camilla’s House

 

Judith had come here to find a way to survive, but she felt like she was sitting on a bed of thorns.

 

She had suspected it when Erne introduced Camilla as his mother’s sister, but it was now clear—there was no warmth between them at all.

 

Even as they entered Camilla’s home, not a single polite greeting was exchanged.

 

Instead of a greeting, Erne simply tossed the silk pouch onto the table.

 

Camilla frowned briefly, then nodded.

 

Her green eyes—so similar to Erne’s—scanned the pouch.

 

“I expected you to come because of this, but I never thought I’d see it again.”

 

With an air of foreboding, Camilla muttered what sounded like a prayer or a spell.

 

“You know what this is?”

 

Erne hadn’t explained anything about Judith, and Camilla didn’t ask who she was or why she was here.

 

The only thing she asked was if they wanted tea.

 

That, more than anything, made Judith uncomfortable.

 

“It’s called a *Geumjamgo, miss.”

 

“A Geumjamgo?”

 

“A bug that brings its chosen master endless riches.”

 

Wait. Judith stared at the silk pouch with fresh eyes.

 

Was it… a beneficial bug?

 

“But as long as its master is blinded by wealth, the bug slowly eats away at them.”

 

What? So it’s a pest?

 

“Eventually, it bores holes into their organs, killing them. Blood pours from every orifice.”

 

Judith shuddered as she recalled herself bleeding from the nose.

 

Goosebumps rose on her arms as she rubbed them.

 

“Then… what do I do?”

 

“There are two ways. One—feed it something else.”

 

 

 

 

🍓; *Geumjamgo is the name of a mysterious insect, possibly derived from Korean and Chinese characters meaning ‘golden silkworm cricket’ or ‘Gold Silkworm Locust.’