Ex Hunter Current Queen, All That’s Left Is the Actual Battle

Translator: White Lotus 

“It was a goddamn nightmare.”

“Why is that?”

“I’d need three months just to explain it all. Not that I think you’d get it, anyway.”

“I’m ready to listen. If you feel like it, you can share your story anytime,” Calint Lakron said earnestly.

Jackson Carter thought there was no way someone like Calint, who had lived a life of luxury, could understand the struggles of growing up in a desolate and impoverished slum. Still, Calint’s voice carried genuine curiosity, prompting the older man to let out his characteristic boisterous laugh.

“Why don’t you just go see it for yourself? You’re a man of power, aren’t you? You could do whatever you want if you put your mind to it.”

“As I mentioned… it’s not that simple. Humans and Arachron don’t trade with one another, and besides, a king doesn’t leave the palace so easily.”

“Why not? Even that much isn’t up to you?”

“That’s what it means to be a king. Leaving the palace involves a tangle of procedures, and I can’t be absent for long. There’s too much to do. I vaguely remember traveling around the capital as a child, but that’s about it……”

By this point, Jackson had downed his fifth glass of drink. He reached out and patted Calint’s arm with an exaggerated look of pity.

“Kid, you better get on my good side. I’ll take you for a ride on my motorcycle someday and show you around…..”

The goblets used by the Arachron were significantly larger than those used by humans. While the tall, elongated design made it less noticeable, their capacity was closer to that of a large bowl. After draining five glasses by it, Jackson’s mood had soared, but his cognitive sharpness had plummeted. He chuckled to himself, rambling without much thought.

“You know, I’m gonna buy a car worth 100 million. You better butter me up.”

“Well… I’m not sure what you mean, but I gather you’re planning to spoil me. However, you must be tired. How about retiring for the night?” Calint suggested, his tone as gentle as ever.

“I don’t care… where’s the sofa? Just drop me there,” Jackson mumbled hazily.

Calint Lakron gently took the goblet from Jackson’s hand before lifting him up and standing. For a moment, he considered washing the man, but he quickly recalled how adamantly the human queen refused to show his bare body. It seemed better to let him sleep.

“Until a proper bed is arranged, you can rest in my sleeping quarters. It’s a rather comfortable space, so it shouldn’t be too inconvenient,” Calint explained as he carried Jackson.

The bed, elevated slightly off the ground, was adorned with cushions stuffed full of soft down and feathers. Designed to accommodate the size of a large Arachron, it resembled a plush, luxurious nest. Calint carefully laid Jackson on the bed, ensuring he was secure, and pulled a light blanket over him before speaking in a low, soothing tone.

“Rest well, Jackson. Sleep peacefully.”

“You too… you sleep well too…”

As the blanket settled over his body, Jackson instinctively wrapped himself up in it, burying his face into the cushion while murmuring. Calint leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to Jackson’s forehead, a gesture of respect and care. The warmth of Calint’s touch caused Jackson to furrow his brows slightly, but the expression softened as sleep overtook him.

The feather-filled bedding was almost overwhelmingly soft. The moment Jackson lay down, it felt as though his body was being gently swallowed by it. The unparalleled comfort made resistance futile. In mere moments, Jackson was deeply asleep.

Having eaten his fill and with the alcohol buzzing warmly through his veins, his body relaxed entirely, yielding to the irresistible pull of sleep.

* * *

“Your Majesty?”

“Ugh……”

Having kicked off the blanket in his sleep, Jackson buried his face into the pile of cushions, curling up with a groan.

“Your Majesty….”

A thin, soft voice tickled his ears, gratingly persistent. Half-asleep, Jackson grumbled and rolled over, clearly signaling his desire to be left alone.

“Yikes!”

A startled gasp and the sound of something jumping made him twitch in irritation. Unable to hold back, the human queen snapped his eyes open.

And there it was—a furry, bug-like creature staring directly at Jackson. Startled, it let out a hiccup.

“What is it?”

Scowling at the intruder, Jackson scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm. Was he still dreaming? Before him was something so fluffy it made his nose itch just to look at it, quivering slightly in place.

Who the hell brought some kid’s stuffed toy into the bedroom?

Assuming the fluffy bug was just a doll, Jackson turned his head, searching for whoever had woken him up. But the room was utterly empty. Calint was nowhere to be seen, and sunlight was pouring in through the stone-framed windows.

“Your Majesty…?”

The bug spoke again in its thin, high-pitched voice.

It took Jackson a moment to register what was happening. The fluffy little creature wasn’t a toy. It was alive—and it was talking. With a sharp intake of breath, Jackson jerked back in shock.

“Damn it! The bug doll is talking!”

“Bug?! That’s so rude!” the furry creature exclaimed, its voice trembling with indignation.

Hurt by Jackson’s words, the little furball’s eyes filled with tears, and it began hopping in place, visibly upset. Jackson’s intimidating appearance was scary, but there were some things the creature couldn’t just let slide.

“W-what is it? And where’s the Spider King?”

“His Majesty went to attend to official matters this morning. It’s now around noon… and I was ordered to assist Your Majesty from this morning onward. But Your Majesty has been sleeping as though you were dead.”

“…Look, I’m nocturnal, alright?”

If only all of this were just a dream. He didn’t need a billion or anything like that—he’d give it all up if it meant escaping this damned bug kingdom. Running a hand through his disheveled hair, Jackson scratched the back of his head and said,

“Well, I’m not dead, so no need to worry. Now get out.”

“I can’t do that. I am Your Majesty’s personal attendant. I’ve been assigned to help you adjust to life in the palace… Please let me know if you need anything.”

“Anything? Fine. Send me home, then.”

Jackson deliberately acted bratty as he directed his irritation at the bug-like attendant, who, despite its fuzzy and round appearance, resembled nothing more than a soccer ball with eyes the size of fists. Unlike Calint, it didn’t have clusters of eyes; instead, it had a single pair like a human. A pair of tiny, pointed antennae sprouted from the top of its head, which only reinforced Jackson’s belief: no matter how much it argued otherwise, this thing was undeniably a bug.

“That’s… something I can’t help with.”

The attendant bug, who knew that the queen came from the human world, replied in a somewhat deflated tone. Technically, the queen’s home was the palace, but judging from the deep wrinkles on Jackson’s brow and the growl in his voice, that answer would be the “wrong” one—for him, at least.

“Yeah? Useless. Alright then, fetch me some water.”

“All right…!”

When Jackson ordered the attendant to fetch water, the little bug scurried out of the room as soon as he finished speaking. Its movements were somewhere between crawling and walking, but since Jackson had no intention of being amicable toward it, he decided to just call it crawling.

“Great. Just great. What a fantastic start to the morning.”

Waking up with a pounding headache from a hangover had already soured his mood. Then again, it wasn’t just the alcohol’s fault. The situation itself was enough to put anyone in a foul mood.

Francis, that bastard, had sucker-punched him and landed him in this bizarre bug kingdom. As if being crowned “queen” wasn’t bad enough, the grotesque Spider King kept pretending he wasn’t trying to get into his pants. To make matters worse, most of them didn’t even speak the same language, and the only clothing they had for him looked like draped curtains.

It sucks.

Jackson raised his arm and took a look at it. The coat Calint had given him draped smoothly over his muscular forearm, the fabric soft and cool against his skin. It should have felt luxurious, but Jackson deemed it an impractical, stiff garment that restricted his movement.

No matter how much the bug tried to cater to him, everything about this place disgusted him. Jackson wasn’t mentally prepared to live in the Arachron kingdom. His unresolved anger, like a feral animal, lashed out at the first thing—or in this case, creature—he laid eyes on.

“Here you go, Your Majesty. I’ve brought the water.”

“Good. Thanks. I’ll enjoy it,” Jackson said as he snatched the glass off the tray. The fact that it kept addressing him as “Your Majesty” grated on his nerves.

As if it wasn’t their decision to crown him as “queen” in the first place. Were they trying to mock him?

Contrary to his words of gratitude, Jackson dumped the water onto the floor without hesitation. Then, without missing a beat, he gave another order.

“I’m still thirsty. Go get me another glass.”

“Yes? Yes….”

The attendant bug stared blankly at the water Jackson had just poured onto the floor. For a moment, it looked utterly defeated before scurrying out of the room again. After a long while, it returned with another glass of cold water.

“……”

When Jackson tilted the glass toward the floor instead of his mouth, the bug’s round eyes began to glisten with unshed tears.

Seeing the bug on the verge of crying, Jackson furrowed his brow, brought the glass to his lips, and downed the entire contents in one go. The water was icy, uncomfortably so. As it slid down his esophagus, it felt like a dagger stabbing into his chest.

“Hey, are you seriously going to cry just because I sent you on a couple of errands? My bad, okay?”

“Your Majesty….”

Jackson was about to snap, threatening to rip off its antennae if it called him “Your Majesty” one more time. But he held back.

Calm down. It’s not like this thing is here because it wants to be. It’s just trying to make a living, like everyone else.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson said quickly, forcing himself to sound genuine. “I woke up in a bad mood and took it out on you for no reason. That’s on me. You don’t need to fetch any more water.”

The truth was, he’d made the bug run those errands simply to test his authority.

As much as he hated to admit it, being crowned queen—however absurd—came with a degree of power. Whether his role was purely ceremonial or not, being assigned a personal attendant meant he had some sway. A part of him had been curious to see just how far that influence extended and what it felt like to wield it.

Unfortunately, Jackson’s experience growing up in the slums had only exposed him to employers who treated their subordinates as expendable tools. He’d never met a leader who exercised their power with respect for others. So, unconsciously, he’d imitated their behavior, barking orders as they did. But seeing the bug’s crestfallen expression, as though it might burst into tears at any moment, stirred an unfamiliar sense of guilt within him.

Well, I thought having a subordinate would be great, but it turns out that’s not quite true.

Jackson had always assumed that wielding power meant indulging in a twisted sense of satisfaction while revealing the worst of oneself. But, apparently, he wasn’t cut out to be a tyrant. Taking out his frustrations on a small attendant wasn’t even remotely enjoyable, nor did it do anything to improve his mood.

It was nothing more than a waste of energy—a pointless and mutually draining exercise. So, Jackson decided to admit his fault and offered a sincere apology to the furball attendant.

“Y-Your Majesty…”

Hearing the apology, the attendant bug’s eyes welled up with tears that soon began to fall in heavy drops. Strangely, its tears were pink. At first, they appeared clear, but as they pooled and spilled over, they turned a soft rosy hue, staining the yellow fur beneath them.

“Why are you crying? Huh? Yeah, I was a bit of a jerk, but come on—I said I’m sorry!”

Jackson couldn’t very well tell the bug to stop crying or face his wrath. Feeling increasingly flustered, he tried to reason with the creature. Where Jackson came from, crying was for losers. If tears fell, you hid them; exposing weakness was as good as inviting vultures to tear you apart.

But this fragile little attendant? It was bawling its eyes out over being sent to fetch water—twice.

“Your Majesty….you’re truly a kind-hearted person… sniff!”

“What?”

After all the grief he’d given it, it had the audacity to call him kind-hearted? Jackson was dumbfounded.

The yellow-furred bug’s tears kept flowing, accompanied by a series of loud sniffles. Jackson found himself distracted by a strange thought—where on that fuzz-covered face could a nose capable of sniffling even exist? He decided to shelve the question for later.

“I heard some things before coming to the palace… that queens here are all under immense stress and tend to be quite violent. There were even rumors about humans roasting moth larvae to eat! I was so scared….. I guess I must have misunderstood you, Your Majesty.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

Being treated like a savage made Jackson’s voice rise instinctively. Regardless of his reaction, the attendant bug continued to sniffle and spoke through its tears.

“But… for someone like me, of such lowly status, to receive an apology…!”

“Hey, hey… I only apologized because I went a bit overboard, okay? If you do something wrong, it’s better to apologize, right? That’s hardly a reason to cry.”

Having grown up outside of a society based on hierarchy, Jackson couldn’t comprehend why the attendant bug was crying over an apology. As much as he wished it would stop the incessant sniffling, the bug eventually curled up, shook off its tears, and raised its head once more.

“Allow me to formally introduce myself, Your Majesty. I’m Quill, from the clan of the Phantom Moths.”

“Quill? That’s a unique name. I’m Jackson. Jackson Carter. Do you really have to call me ‘Your Majesty’? I don’t mind if you just call me Jackson.”

“No, no! Absolutely not! How could I dare utter the esteemed name of Her Majesty the Queen*? The Queen might be fine with it, but if His Majesty were to find out, it would be a disaster. Please, never suggest such a thing again!”

(T/N: Even though Jackson is a male, he still holds the title “왕비 전하” (which typically translates to “Queen Majesty”). Since Jackson is referred to as a male queen, the phrase could still translate as “Her Majesty” to maintain the original intent. In short, If there’s deliberate intent to refer to him as a “queen,” it could remain “Her Majesty” with narrative explanation.)

Watching Quill tremble with fear, Jackson lay back on the bed, propping his chin up with one hand, lost in thought. This damned kingdom made no sense to him. One thing was clear, though: there were far more things he wasn’t allowed to do than things he was.

“Fine, fine. You’re overreacting… They said sending me home isn’t an option, so that’s that. What about you? What are you good at? And why were you assigned to me, anyway? From what I saw yesterday, all of Calint Lakron’s subordinates were spiders.”

“Well….”

Quill flinched at Jackson’s barrage of questions. Shifting nervously, he seemed to deliberate over what to say first before responding, one thing at a time.

“Well, for starters, I’m very quick on my feet. I also have small wings, so I can fly….”

“What I’m saying is, I can already see with my own eyes that you’re fast and have wings. Why are you even bothering to explain that? I’m asking what else you can do. Like, what kind of errands I can send you on. Other than fetching water.”

“Oh, uh, well… you can request meals… or bathing assistance, guidance around the palace… and, actually, His Majesty has instructed me to teach the Queen the language.”

“Language?”

“Yes…! Arachronian! It would be much more convenient and useful for Your Majesty to learn the language to live here comfortably.”

“…Huh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

Especially if I want to wring the necks of anyone who thinks I don’t understand and dares to talk trash about me. Jackson conceded that Quill had a point and gave a small nod. Still, he wasn’t exactly confident about learning a new language.

“What else?”

“Well… I can pretty much handle any other small errands you might need….”

“Then stop whining. That’s my second request.”

“I’ll… I’ll try my best.”

When Jackson delivered his command in a somewhat arrogant tone, Quill hung his head low and nodded. Still, he thought it was a much more tolerable request than fetching water. Gruff and intimidating as Jackson looked, he wasn’t as unbearable as the nobles who cloaked their cruelty in polite words and subtle malice.

“And the reason I was assigned as Your Majesty’s personal attendant is… because I can speak your language. That’s all there is to it.”

“Huh, is that so? For a second, I thought you were taking a subtle jab at me in a gloomy way, but I guess that’s not the case.”

“…….”

Quill darted his eyes to the side. It wasn’t just that there were few Arachronians who could speak the human language; the truth was, none of the more skilled speakers wanted to serve Jackson.

In the Arachronian kingdom, which had no trade relations with humans, learning the human language meant obtaining books through indirect trade routes. Those who went through such trouble to master the language were usually aristocrats, and the aristocracy looked down on Jackson, whose origins were murky at best. For a noble to serve an ordinary human with an unclear background? Unthinkable.

This disdain only grew after rumors spread that Jackson was a bit coarse.

Thus, it was Calint who personally found Jackson a servant—Quill. The Phantom Moths, as a species, were known for their speed and worldly knowledge, but they lacked a kingdom of their own and mostly lived day-to-day lives. In Arachronian society, they occupied a space somewhere between commoners and the lowest caste or foreigners. They were rarely treated well.

Quill believed it would be disrespectful to share all this with the Queen, so he simply waited quietly for Jackson’s next command. Jackson closed his eyes, tapping the edge of the bed with his finger as if in thought, before finally speaking.

“Got a cigarette?”

“No, Your Majesty… I’m terribly sorry, but cigarettes will be difficult to obtain. Arachronians don’t smoke.”

“What? Why not?”

“Well, neither do we Phantom Moths… Mostly because it’s very harmful to our health.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. They insisted they weren’t insects, but they sure seemed to share the bugs’ aversion to smoke.

“Damn it, nothing works out. Drinking on an empty stomach right after waking up feels a bit much… Fine, can I step out for a bit? I want to get a sense of what kind of place this is.”

“Do you mean you’d like to tour the palace? I can guide you through that.”

Quill swiftly moved to open the door. As the elaborately adorned bedroom door swung wide, a breeze entered through the windows, wrapping around Jackson in a pleasant embrace. The gust made the edges of Calint’s outer garment on his body flutter and lift. Annoyed by the sight, Jackson tugged the robe tighter and followed after Quill.

“This is…”

The human Queen who came out of the room couldn’t help but let out an exclamation at the sight before him.