Chapter 83 : I Will Become a Tyrant

The door to the reception hall burst open.

Seeing what was happening inside, a black knight cried out.

“My lord!”

The Black Prince barked, “Did I not command you never to enter, no matter what?”

“But—!”

“Close the door!”

“My lord!”

“Hurry!”

…Clack.

The door shut again.

I never once took my eyes off him. My head was too hot, my blood boiling.

And without realizing it, the world had turned crimson. The Black Prince’s face was bathed in red, as though painted in blood.

I grinned viciously, my sword still at his throat.

“Hey, Your Highness Black Prince. What the hell do you think you’re doing? You want to end your life here?”

He met my glare calmly.

“If I die here, it only means I was too weak.”

I bared my teeth.

“Is that so?”

I pressed the broken blade closer.

Though chipped and cracked, it was still sharp enough to slice skin. A line of crimson welled on his neck, sliding down the pale steel.

Royal blood was no different in color. No different from the blood of the fiends I’d slain.

“You think I won’t do it? I’ve killed a noble already. A prince is no different.”

But instead of fear, he asked me something completely unexpected.

“Then answer me this. Why did you kill that baron?”

“Because he was trash unworthy of life. Why?”

“May I ask why you thought so?”

“He was building a temple, forced his peasants into labor, and when they refused, he beat one to death in front of everyone—then bragged about it, laughing. Isn’t that revolting?”

“I see.”

As I spoke, I shut my eyes and spread out my senses.

I found Hans’s family in their usual room. Hans and Julia were smiling, watching Joy and Shushruta play together.

Safe. All of them.

My head cooled.

Of course. Shushruta was with them. And really, this bastard had no reason to try something so foolish.

Even if I agreed under duress, that wouldn’t breed loyalty.

Knowing myself, I would’ve evacuated Hans’s family and then struck him down the first chance I got.

And the Black Prince wasn’t stupid. He had to know that.

The red haze faded.

I pulled back my blade.

“What the hell are you, crazy? Why spew such a ridiculous lie?”

The Black Prince stretched his stiffened neck and replied, “…Impressive. You confirmed their safety that quickly?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“How did you do it? Black magic?”

“Martial arts.”

“I’ve never heard of such sorcery. Remarkable.”

“…”

With a heavy sigh, I slid the sword back into its sheath.

Dragging my feet, I slumped into the chair opposite him.

“Damn it, you pissed me off. Was that a test?”

He answered bluntly, face as flat as ever.

“I apologize. It was necessary.”

“So? What’s your impression?”

“Striking. I had thought I could dodge or resist somehow, but… I couldn’t even react.”

“Bastard.”

If it was a battle of wits, I’d lost this round.

He had shaken me properly.

Sending away his guards and waiting alone—that had been his plan from the start.

I’d met plenty who gambled with others’ lives. But gambling with your own? That was a first.

And a prince, no less. What nonsense.

“You insane bastard. Playing games with your life? What if I really had killed you?”

“As I said, if I died, it would only mean I wasn’t strong enough. That I was destined to end there.”

“Good god…”

I couldn’t help but sigh again.

But our fearless prince didn’t so much as flinch. He continued without a care.

“As you said, such things happen across the kingdom. The Blake Kingdom is rotten. Nobles who are unworthy of their title are poisoning the land. Men like Count Starvanger are rare. Most are filth.”

He raked a hand through his hair, dark eyes gleaming.

“They don’t care how the people live. Their minds are only on filling their bellies. They scheme for bigger jewels than the baroness next door. They plot how to bleed more from their serfs without sparking revolt. They worry about what to wear to tomorrow’s ball, while their peasants worry whether they’ll even see tomorrow.”

He shook his head in disgust.

I leaned lazily on the armrest, chin propped on my hand, watching him.

“The rot must be carved out. Before the kingdom decays beyond repair. I will seize the throne and overturn it all. Lend me your strength.”

What an idiotic line. He’d be better off offering me gold and silver.

I scowled.

“Spare me. None of that’s my problem.”

“Don’t lie. You pity them. Otherwise, you would never have slain that baron.”

“So what, dumbass? Kill them all and you think it’ll be clean? You put new men in their place, and what—those men will stay honest forever? Treat the people kindly? Don’t kid yourself.”

I didn’t give him time to answer before I pressed on.

“They weren’t all born scum. Few live true to themselves. Even the kind ones change when they gain power. Stop with that childish notion that the weak are inherently virtuous. Trash is just trash.”

He listened in silence, then asked quietly,

“Then what—just stand by and watch?”

“…”

That shut me up.

“Kill them.”

“What?”

“Like you said. If they become corrupt after gaining power, then kill them.”

“You’re insane. And if the next one turns rotten too?”

“Kill him too.”

“Keep killing them? Until when?”

“Until someone worthy remains. Until the others see and are too terrified to neglect their duties.”

“….”

“Until the kingdom runs properly, I will keep cutting away the rot.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded.

“So your dream is to be a tyrant?”

The Black Prince bared his teeth in a grin.

Like a black tiger smiling.

“Do you know this? Men hesitate less to strike down those they love than those they fear. No one cares for a benevolent king. If need be… I will be a tyrant.”

“Crazy bastard.”

Why was I even listening to this lunatic prince’s nonsense?

I shook my head.

“You seem mistaken. I’ll be going back to where I came from. What happens here doesn’t concern me.”

“…Back to where you came from? And where is that?”

“That’s a secret, bastard. You think I’d tell a snake like you?”

“Hm…”

The Black Prince rubbed his chin, thinking, then asked, “Is it far?”

“Far.”

“There is a teleportation circle in the kingdom. Do you need it?”

My ears perked up.

“…Teleportation circle?”

With that, I could return home in one shot.

Right. He was royalty. Maybe princes had free passes for things like that.

“Can I use it now?”

He shook his head.

“No. It’s under the crown’s authority. Even a prince cannot use it at will.”

I stared at him.

Then why the hell bring it up?

As if expecting my thoughts, he added, “But if I become king, I’ll have free use of it.”

So that was his pitch: help him take the throne, and he’d grant me passage home.

Tempting, sure…

“Still, waiting for you to become king sounds slower than just finding my own way.”

“No. Everything is ready. All that remains is to strike.”

“Ready, huh?”

I tilted my head.

“But you haven’t even gotten the demon sword yet. Isn’t that supposed to be crucial? The Count said it symbolizes the king’s knights.”

“Symbols don’t matter so much. You can’t seize the throne with symbolism alone.”

“Hm.”

Practical man.

“Count Starvanger is cautious. Of course, the sword would help sway the people, but it isn’t essential. Even without it, I can topple the Second Prince.”

“Then why not just do it?”

“Because the First Prince remains.”

He explained,

“The Blake Kingdom has an ancient custom. When only two contenders for the throne remain, and their contest is fierce, the decision is made through combat between their knights. To prevent civil war and foreign invasion. The tradition began long ago after such a disaster.”

“I see.”

“I lack enough outstanding swordsmen for the duel.”

“You’ve got black knights. They looked strong.”

He shook his head.

“The First Prince’s forces surpass mine—in quality and in number. To win the duel, I must secure at least two warriors whose victory is certain.”

“…So you came to recruit me?”

“Correct.”

“And the second one—you mean to hand the demon sword to someone else?”

He nodded.

“The symbol may not be vital, but the blade’s power is. Of course, that’s assuming you truly lend it.”

“I get it.”

“So then? Will you join me?”

I studied him, then asked,

“The First Prince’s knights. Are they strong?”

“Very. As strong as the royal knights themselves.”

“Ohh.”

The teleportation circle was tempting, sure.

But what stirred me more was the thought of fighting those knights.

Aside from Sir Kael and Sir Roetgel, I hadn’t crossed blades with real knights.

The Frost Knight didn’t even count—we hadn’t fought to the end.

How strong were they?

My chest pounded with excitement.

The thrill of shattering the wall of ice and steel, of stepping into the realm of moonlight—that feeling was still vivid.

I wanted to throw everything into the clash again. To grow stronger through it.

I was still far too weak to challenge the Commander.

“What do you think, Master?”

“What?”

“Not you, bastard.”

“…”

The Heavenly Demon answered.

[It would be a fine experience.]

“Right? That’s what I thought too. If I beat them down hard enough, maybe I’ll glimpse the realm of the Full Moon.”

[That depends on your ability.]

“Good. Then there’s nothing to hesitate about.”

When I looked across the table, the Black Prince was staring at me, unimpressed.

I raised my bandaged left arm slightly.

“My arm’s almost healed.”

He replied flatly,

“Congratulations.”

“Once it’s ready, I’ll go fetch the demon sword.”

“I see.”

“While I’m gone, deal with the Second Prince. I’ll see if he’s more than just words.”

His eyes gleamed.

“Then…?”

“I’ll bring back the sword. You take care of the Second Prince. We’ll speak again after.”

A faint smile crossed his lips.

“Fair. Actions will speak better than words.”

We held each other’s gaze for a moment. Then he brushed his hair back and rose first.

“I’ll take my leave. I have much to do.”

“Go on.”

Click.

He opened the door and left.

I sat there, staring at the empty chair he’d occupied… then instinctively drove needles of chi into the meridians of my left arm.

Thump.

My heartbeat quickened.

Was it racing at the thought of wielding the demon sword?

At the thought of fighting the knights?

At the thought of returning home?

I couldn’t tell.

Smiling faintly, I pressed the points in my arm again and again.

After leaving the reception hall, the Black Prince told his knights to wait and stepped into an empty room.

Click.

As soon as the door shut, he slid down against it.

“Haa…”

The tension he’d been holding burst free, leaving his legs weak.

A sharp sting pricked his neck. He touched it.

Bright red blood smeared his palm.

It reminded him of the man’s eyes.

“Those eyes…”

Demonic crimson, hungry enough to devour.

The memory alone made his skin crawl.

He let out a dry laugh.

“Hah… So that’s why they call him the Red-Eyed Devil.”

The bloodied hand trembled ever so slightly.

(End of Chapter)

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