Tamed Monster - Chapter 96

Even the Emperor, obsessed with monsters and torturing them daily for information, had never heard of ‘demonic energy’. The monsters guarded that secret so fiercely that not even a hint had ever leaked out.

Yet here was Kuinan, revealing it to her without a second thought.

“There is such a thing. It’s an incredibly important power for monsters. Sooner or later, you’ll need to use it, too.”

Now, whether his mission succeeded or not, Kuinan no longer had any intention of killing her. Instead, he was picturing a future together. For someone who’d always lived impulsively, it was a shocking change.

Of course, Sylvia didn’t appreciate him making plans for her life on his own.

“I doubt I’ll ever need it.”

“You never know. Don’t argue and just take my hand, wife.”

He spoke sulkily, holding out his sturdy left forearm to her. She found herself staring at the faint scar running across it, thinking that unless a weapon was coated in poison or demonic energy, it would be impossible to hurt him.

‘So if I want to get rid of this monster… I’ll need to get my hands on some deadly poison. As much as possible.’

Oblivious to her scheming, Kuinan spun on his heel, strode back to the black market dealer, and sold the bottle of blood. Instead of the enormous sum promised, he ended up with only ten shillings, leaving with the dealer’s word that the rest would be paid later.

* * *

With that money, they bought as much food as they could and ate until they were full.

After wandering the night market, stuffing themselves, they hired a carriage and made their way straight to the Imperial Palace. Because of the reeking severed monster arm, Kuinan had to pay the driver three times the normal fare, spending almost all the money they had left just to get a ride in a shabby carriage.

When Lancart showed his face at the palace gates, he and Sylvia were allowed through without a single question. Sylvia, trailing behind him with a deeply uneasy expression, crossed the massive gates as well.

Out of a dozen who set out, only the two of them had returned alive. The Emperor could see that at a glance, but rather than expressing any condolences for the dead, he simply welcomed the two survivors with open arms.

More ruthless than any monster, more heartless than any villain—this was the man who ruled the Empire. The Emperor lounged lazily on his throne.

Sylvia, Lancart, and the Emperor exchanged confidential words in the solemn audience chamber.

“You’ve done well, my brother.”

Now he was even calling him ‘brother’. The Emperor had more half-siblings than anyone could count, and had executed more than half of them as soon as he took the throne. Now, putting on a show of brotherly affection felt strange even to a monster—Lancart’s usually impassive face twitched ever so slightly.

Now, everything depended on how Sylvia would act.

If she chose to expose her husband as a monster to the Emperor right now, Lancart would have no choice but to seize the Emperor as a hostage and couldn’t leave her unharmed, either.

That was the only way he might survive—and maybe, just maybe, learn the recipe for the deadly poison he needed. Now, this wasn’t just the Crown Prince, but the Emperor of the entire Empire. Every person in the palace would place the Emperor’s life above all else.

Lancart dropped the severed monster arm he’d been carrying onto the floor.

The Emperor, undisturbed by the reeking arm, glanced at it knowingly and asked playfully.

“From that one?”

The truth was, this wasn’t even a mission—it was a test, to measure the Duke’s loyalty and usefulness. Whether he returned alive or not, the Emperor would hardly have cared. Now that he was sure of Lancart’s value, he was pleased; had it turned out otherwise, he wouldn’t have mourned a bit.

Lancart answered smoothly that he had defeated the leader, and the woman who had been dragged here by her husband had barely spoken—she only offered a formal greeting, avoiding the Emperor’s gaze.

Meyers, narrowing his snake-like eyes, watched Sylvia intently. Some sharp instinct warned him: this woman knows something she shouldn’t. If she had learned what he’d ordered Lancart to do before he became a fool, he would have no choice but to kill her.

“Duchess.”

He deliberately didn’t use her name, calling her only by her title—a reminder to remember her place and answer the Emperor with due respect. Sylvia, startled, quickly looked up at him.

Sitting high above on the throne, his chin propped on one hand, Emperor Meyers asked in a cold, decisive voice:

“Do you have anything you wish to say to me?”