439 – The Monster Reclaims His Crown -1-

Screams echo.

“Hold them back!”

Here, amidst a den of villainy, the sound of flesh and bone tearing was repeatedly heard.

“By what right do you…”

The sorrowful cries of righteous men, defending against the villains’ invasion, desperately sought to halt the advancing throng.

“Do you possess the right to suppress freedom?”

Commonly known as the Black Sanctum.

This place, where the Empire caged its most vicious wrongdoers, was the most notorious prison, housing a multitude of criminals.

Criminals associated with ‘sacrilege.’

Criminals associated with ‘fraud.’

Criminals associated with ‘theft.’

Unlike other prisons, this place mainly held individuals deemed too dangerous to be released back into society, all with diverse charges against them.

[Galeold, the Steel Nail Cane Murderer]

[12 Murders. 104 Attempted Murders]

-Kha-ha!!! Hey, big shot! Let me out too!!!

[Poison, the Toxic Maniac]

[24 Murders. 0 Attempted Murders]

-Hey… taste some of the poison I made. It’s a real trip…?! I’ll show you some amazing illusions. Of course, everyone who’s seen them has died.

[Gaylo, the Indulger in Prohibited Love]

[40 Murders. 1 Attempted Murder]

-Oppa~ If you have time, let’s play, I’ll be good to you.

This prison served to unleash the unacceptable upon the world.

Though rightful execution was their due, the Empire, beset by countless enemies, imprisoned them instead, to serve as fodder for the front lines.

Even irredeemable dregs held value exceeding their weight in bodies on the battlefield.

[Eric the Merciful Slaughterer –]

[Forty-five counts of murder. Six counts of attempted.]

– If you but free me from this place, I will kill whomsoever you desire.

“Ha ha…”

The man, receiving ardent gazes and offerings of coin through the bars, advanced with a delighted smile.

“Hold, brothers….”

-Wooo!!!

“I shall liberate you all, in due time.”

-Waaa!!!

The man chuckled wryly at the cheers of the caged criminals, advancing deeper into the bowels of the prison in silence.

– Freedom!!!

His purpose here was not to rescue these pitiful souls.

By now, word would have reached the Empire’s Sword Master. An intruder within the Black Sanctum.

It would not be amiss for an elite force to arrive within the half-hour. The Empire was not so easily trifled with.

To covet is good.

To covet the strong, to scrape at their very core, brought a thrill, a pleasure most exquisite. To crave such acquisition, with death but a step away, was a joy he had known for ages.

With all his heart, he wished to revel in carnage, to engage those who would oppose him, but alas, too many denied him this pleasure, forcing him to restrain himself.

To unleash these caged wretches upon those who came to stop him, to hurl them into a scene of utter slaughter – that would be a joyous gift of freedom and happiness to them, without a doubt.

Therefore, for now, his focus must be on those who would contribute more to society than these mediocrities.

Cruel.

A twisted artist with a love for the fine arts.

The man in the black robe raised his eyes, gazing upon the trembling guards.

“…T-This… this is where criminals who defiled the Empire’s order are imprisoned. Come no further, or you will violate the laws of the Empire…”

The man chuckled, seeing the terrified faces of the guards who stood before the massive gate, weapons clutched in their hands.

“Why do you tremble so?”

They were simply doing their duty, standing guard in their place.

“Why do your shoulders shake…?”

He pitied these men, faithfully fulfilling their duty, yet trembling with such fear.

“C-Come no further! If the criminals within are unleashed, none of you will survive!!!”

The man stepped forward, saying,

“Do not tremble. Ye, the powerful, who suppress freedom.”

“…Stay back!”

“You merely perform your duty, precisely as you should, so why do you tremble before me?”

“…I said, stay back!”

“Stand tall.”

“All, prepare for battle…!”

“You are the strong; you are more than qualified to bar my path.”

“Charge, all at once.”

“I, too, shall do my part.”

Along with the man’s syrupy laughter, a bizarre tearing sound began to echo. The grotesque noise, like ‘crunch,’ resembled that of a beast tearing into its prey.

-Crunch…

“Indeed.”

-Crunch…

“That is what you all ought to be doing.”

As the man finished speaking, the thick iron gate guarded by the wardens began to open with a chilling screech.

-Screeeeeech…

A place where not even a sliver of light could penetrate.

Be they convicts,

or beasts,

a space of cruel darkness where madness was the only recourse.

The man took a step into the viscous prison, exhaling a soft sigh.

“…How tedious.”

-Clap!

The man clapped his hands, shouting to rouse those within from their slumber. A man who did not wish to befriend silence had not come all this way for such an uninteresting reaction.

Yes.

-Crack!!!

Like that.

“Be silent, you’re making a racket.”

A voice echoed from the darkness, and at the same moment, a sharply honed pencil stopped, piercing through the man’s palm.

With fresh blood dripping, the man, looking at the pencil halted before his eyes, let out a snicker and gave an intriguing smile.

“So, you’re the twisted artist.”

The man smirked, reading through the prisoner registry affixed to the wall.

[Adventurer Hunter – Pascal.]

[Murders: 130. Attempts: 2. Escapes: 1]

[Distinguishing Features: Resembles a praying mantis.]

“Pleased to meet you. I am a priest of the heretics.”

The man bowed deeply.

“Apostle of Greed.”

*

A peaceful moonlit night.

Chartia slammed her fist on the desk, furrowing her brow.

“Can this blasted Empire not have a single moment of peace?!”

[‘Black Sanctuary’ Prison Assault Occurred.]

[According to survivor testimonies, at 3 a.m.,

an incident was reported involving a sudden assault by 40-odd heretics.

The total casualties amount to 120, with approximately 20 wardens deceased, 60 missing, 40 injured, and Warden Yulia critically wounded. All inmates are confirmed to have escaped.]

Already with a headache from the Ricardo issue, Chartia’s sighs only grew deeper with this unresolved matter.

So many problems demanding attention.

The priest who became an apostle, glimpsed within the Seer’s Tome.

The matter of Ricardo.

Keeping the Crown Prince in check.

As if focusing on the Crown Prince weren’t enough, incidents kept erupting throughout the Empire. For Chartia, nearing her physical limits, only sighs escaped.

“As if I didn’t have enough of a headache already…”

First, the priest’s existence had to be confirmed. The very idea of a priest serving the Goddess dipping his toes into heresy was bizarre.

She needed to ascertain from what point he had become a heretic, and whether this was a future occurrence, or something from the past.

The position of High Priest of the Empire wasn’t a matter to be taken lightly.

Observing the priest’s current actions, one wouldn’t get the impression he was siding with heretics.

The priest, expressing pessimistic views on heresy, was generously supporting the Inquisitors in their crusade to eradicate them.

“… Infuriating.”

Nothing seemed to unravel smoothly.

She had believed the Seer’s Tome would alleviate these feelings, but instead, her head throbbed more intensely, and the list of issues to resolve only grew longer.

That’s how the tyrant in me felt.

-You must change.

She had to change.

She didn’t know *how* she needed to change, but what was certain was that she couldn’t let Ricardo die. Otherwise, such a past wouldn’t have been shown to her.

“…”

As of now, Ricardo didn’t feel like a significant figure to her.

Unlike the ‘her’ within the Tome, she hadn’t formed a deep, abiding connection, nor were they bound together as liege and vassal. It was difficult to muster strong emotions.

I am I.

You are you.

Her current perception of Ricardo was merely, ‘Butler serving the Villainess.’ Nothing more, nothing less.

Of course, she was grateful that he had helped her win against the Crown Prince in the succession battle, and for declaring his belief in her as the next Emperor. She owed him a debt she’d repay someday, but the weight of that gratitude felt awkward, so she kept it at the back of her mind.

From the beginning, women who fancied him were a dime a dozen.

He simply seemed oblivious.

“aaargh… Annoying!!!”

She couldn’t even rest during break, and just before the start of the semester, this all blows up….

“What is Taeoh even doing…”

Chartia, annoyed at the Crown Prince for shirking his duties today of all days, sought counsel from the Information Guild Leader, who was silently sorting through documents.

“Guild Leader.”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Any information regarding the escapees?”

“Ah… well, about that.”

The Guild Leader, his face grim as he read through papers, handed Chartia a thick stack of documents with an awkward smile.

“I believe you should read this.”

“…”

“The situation is… more severe than anticipated…. Haha!”

After reading the documents, Chartia let out a massive sigh, then exclaimed.

“Damned…”

[30% of Escapees Dead at Scene of Breakout.]

[40% of Escapees Found Dead in the Hamel Territory.]

She had a sinking feeling she knew who was responsible.

Just as she’d begun to breathe a sigh of relief, thanks to the missing Sword Master.

-Knock. Knock. Knock.

The office door opened to a precise, almost sterile knock, etching a frown onto Shartia’s face.

An Imperial man.

A man bearing the sigil that proclaimed him so.

The Imperial Chancellor, bowing his head, addressed Shartia with practiced formality.

“Third Imperial Princess.”

“…”

“His Imperial Majesty requests your presence at the Grand Noble Council.”