What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 57
When a person experiences an overwhelming shock, their mind can simply stop functioning.
That’s what happened to Kazhan. For a moment, he couldn’t comprehend the scene before him.
Even as he looked at the undeniable evidence of death, the horror of what had occurred here didn’t register at all.
“As you can see, Her Majesty the Empress—”
“Shut up.”
Kazhan didn’t hear the knight’s words. His response was automatic, born from some unconscious part of him.
Tap. Tap.
Kazhan leaned on his cane, taking one step at a time toward the remnants of Ysaris. The knights who flinched at his ominous aura and backed away, the others who silently watched his back—they were all completely shut out from his awareness.
The distance he covered wasn’t far. Kazhan discarded his cane and reached out to pick up something that had caught his eye. His legs, exhausted beyond their limits, gave out, and he fell to his knees.
Even at the cost of showing a side unworthy of an Emperor, Kazhan picked up the object, which glimmered in the twilight despite being soaked in blood.
“I told you… not to take it off.”
‘I told you that you were mine. Whether you liked it or not, you were bound to me by marriage, and you had to stay by my side.’
So why is this ring lying here? Ysaris.
‘You’re not here.’
“This… isn’t funny.”
His voice, cracked and dry like a drought, murmured softly. His muddied red eyes lifted from the ring to gaze ahead.
The blood and platinum hair scattered in front of his hollow eyes reflected back at him.
It was a scene devoid of reality, even on a second look. He couldn’t truly believe what he was seeing.
Ysaris is dead.
“There’s no way.”
Kazhan naturally rejected the reality. It was impossible that Ysaris, who had been talking to him just hours ago, was now dead.
The knights of Uzephia had arrived; all that was left was to return to the palace and set everything right. Once he recovered, he intended to give her everything she should have rightfully had.
Acknowledging his past mistakes and apologizing was the first step. To rebuild his relationship with Ysaris, Kazhan was prepared to abandon his pride as Emperor.
So Ysaris had to be safe.
She couldn’t have met such a pitiful end in a place like this.
“Find the Empress.”
“Your Majesty, the Empress is already—”
“I ordered you to find her.”
The chilling voice sent a shiver down Pelloton’s spine, the commander of the Imperial Third Knights. He swallowed dryly, knowing the task was likely hopeless, but unable to refuse the imperial order, he bowed his head.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“There’s no flesh on the torn clothes. There are no bone fragments, either. That suggests she may have been wounded but managed to move elsewhere.”
Kazhan slowly stood up on one leg. He marshaled all his knowledge, piecing together the circumstances that might allow Ysaris to still be alive.
There was only one possibility left to cling to, as long as he refused to consider her death.
“The griffin’s tracks end abruptly right here. It likely grabbed her and flew off. Search the entire mountain, find it, kill it, and bring the Empress back.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And…”
Kazhan paused, his words hanging in the air. Pelloton, who had been silently waiting for the next command, glanced up briefly, only to quickly lower his gaze again in fear.
The Emperor of the great empire, with bloodshot eyes, was foretelling a massacre.
“As soon as we return to Uzephia, declare war on the Kingdom of Hertie.”
“…I will prepare.”
Pelloton hid his turmoil and bowed his head even lower. Given that the Emperor had been directly attacked, war was inevitable, so there was no reason to be surprised.
But that wasn’t the end.
“Hertie couldn’t have done this alone. Find every group involved. Their backers, their families, their nations. I will annihilate them all.”
“…!”
“I won’t even bother making them vassal states. If the entire continent stands against me, I’ll make the world kneel at my feet. I’ll show them what a true tyrant is.”
“Your Majesty!”
Pelloton’s involuntary outburst drew Kazhan’s dark red eyes to him like an arrow.
“Are you thinking of opposing me, Commander?”
Pelloton realized something then. He had thought the Emperor was still rational when he calmly assessed the Empress’s situation, but that was a mistake.
Kazhan was not in his right mind. The crazed look in his eyes, as if he would cut Pelloton down if he disobeyed, choked the commander’s throat.
“No, Your Majesty.”
A storm of bloodshed was coming.
Pelloton shut his eyes tightly in despair. Unable to defy the Emperor, he could only pray that the Kingdom of Hertie was the sole power behind the attack.
As the commander stood there, Kazhan clenched the ring in his hand. Blood, whether it was his or Ysaris’s, dripped slowly between his fingers.
“Just hold on a little longer, Ysaris.”
‘I’ll kill every last one of the bastards who drove you to this. Forgive me for being too late.’
‘No, it’s okay if you don’t forgive me. Even if you hate me for the rest of your life, just stay alive.’
“Just stay alive…”
Kazhan ignored the amount of blood that would have been enough to kill someone from excessive bleeding or shock. He also dismissed the fact that it had been hours since the fatal wound was inflicted, making it unlikely she would survive even if she were found.
‘Ysaris had to be alive. He would find her, no matter what.’
He needed her to live, for without her, he could not breathe.
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