Chapter 58
Turning away from the darkness behind him, Cyrone slowly faced Nielsen.
As the wind met, golden hair fluttered in the air. Through it, deep and vivid blue eyes appeared. Those intensely beautiful eyes belonged to a conqueror, a hunter, and an emperor.
It was then that Nielsen instinctively knew he must stop speaking.
“I am not merciful to anyone.”
Red lips parted. Under the crescent moon, Cyrone’s figure was so beautiful it seemed almost like a dream.
“If you want to risk your neck too, keep talking.”
Faced with Cyrone’s gentle smile, Nielsen finally sealed his lips. Having served Cyrone closely for many years, he knew his character better than anyone.
Cyrone did not express anger with rage. Instead, with eyes lacking any sympathy, he simply smiled cruelly.
The enemies who had faced him on the battlefield spoke in unison. He was a devil in the face of a god. Behind that beautiful visage, there was no mercy. Camille, who had once marched onto the battlefield with him, even questioned if he was a devil incarnate.
“I apologize.”
So, Nielsen swallowed his words.
“Hear me, the incompetent Emperor and his son Cyrone!”
A crimson shadow erupted like flames over the palace. The rebel army had already surrounded the walls of Welrod Palace. The number of soldiers lined up was countless.
The sky itself was swallowed by darkness. At the sound of a familiar voice, Cyrone sighed softly and turned his gaze.
At the forefront of the rebels stood Reiffers.
“Surrender now, and you will be treated with the respect due to royalty!”
True to his past as the imperial guard commander who once protected the late Crown Prince, Reiffers’s voice was loud and commanding. The one trusted by the former Emperor and closest to the late Crown Prince.
Who would have thought this day would come when he would confront Welrod Palace like this?
“You and the Emperor have no right to rule!”
Cyrone looked down coldly at Reiffers, clad firmly in armor, muttering with a flat expression.
“He is desperate.”
Reiffers’s era had already ended. Some would remember him as a hero of the battlefield, but sadly, memories had no power. Leaning against the window as if watching the spectacle, Cyrone spoke, mocking the solemnity of the black ranks surrounding the walls.
“Do you know why I spared that useless life?”
Cyrone lightly tapped his finger on the rebel vanguard. His face, oddly serene given the tense situation, showed little concern.
As Cyrone’s gaze settled, even the fiercely determined Reiffers trembled in his shoulders. Thanks to his helmet hiding his face, the rebels had no clue their leader was shaking.
“As expected, you take after your mother. Arrogant to the end.”
Reiffers gripped his sword’s hilt tighter, but the more he did, the more it revealed his trembling hands. It was no wonder. Facing Cyrone on the battlefield only now, did Reiffers begin to truly grasp the meaning of that saying.
Cyrone was like a god shining alone from the depths of hell.
“But I was mistaken. You’re the kind of man who would even betray your own daughter.”
Cyrone nodded lightly, reaching a final conclusion. The fierce force that had led an army to Welrod Palace was gone, replaced by a short, mocking chuckle at the sight of Reiffers trembling at his fingertips.
“Then there’s no reason for me to keep you alive.”
Cyrone’s expression suddenly vanished as he raised his hand. At that moment, a thunderous roar echoed through the darkness, shaking sky and earth.
“Surround the rebels and spare not a single one!”
On cue, arrows rained down from the silent palace tower. Imperial soldiers burst forth from all directions, mercilessly striking down the rebels’ throats. Before they could raise their shields, many rebels fell, oblivious to their severed heads, their eyes flickering lifelessly on the ground.
“Break through the gate!”
The castle walls erupted into chaos as Horace shouted fiercely.
They had to hold out until reinforcements arrived. But the moment their guard slipped, the already weakened lines of the rebel army would collapse. Arrows pierced heads and hearts, while sharpened blades severed throats, spilling blood.
“Where were all these troops hiding?”
Horace shouted while swinging his sword. The rebels fought back fiercely at the unexpected assault, but the outcome of the battle was clear. The rebel defenses broke, and they were pushed back in full retreat.
“Ugh!”
Blades clashed and poisoned arrows flew fiercely. Groans of pain erupted from all around. This was truly the heart of hell. Watching the carnage unfolded like a spectator to the jaws of hell, Cyrone furrowed his brow, recalling something.
“Well, a promise is a promise.”
Cyrone extended his hand, and Nielsen promptly handed him a sturdy bow. Cyrone skillfully drew the string, narrowing his eyes to focus.
The arrow sang swiftly through the air with deadly precision.
“Ugh—!”
The arrow pierced the center of Horace’s forearm. Blood suddenly burst from his hand as he fell from his horse, tumbling to the ground.
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