What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 206

Kazhan turned his gaze away from them. While his trust in his own people had slightly diminished, the advantage of the situation hadn’t changed.

And the dark mage seemed to realize it too, showing the first signs of genuine discomfort.

“Of all people… Duke Blake. I didn’t account for this. I should’ve taken the Emperor hostage and fled earlier—my mistake.”

“Hah! Quite the arrogant mouth you’ve got there. Seems you’ve got no interest in dying cleanly.”

Temisian chuckled, shaking the blood off his blade. Despite his casual tone, his eyes were sharp with murderous intent.

Though he had joked about Kazhan being “unharmed,” his loyalty was no lie. The moment he assessed the room, he had already begun calculating how to kill the man who dared harm his Emperor.

A mage, judging by the traces of battle. One skilled enough to pressure even a master swordsman—meaning this was his dungeon.

Normally, such an opponent would be troublesome.

But Temisian was no ordinary swordsman.

He possessed strength beyond human limits—enough to shatter magic and take a life before the enemy even realized he had moved.

“Well then, let’s start by cutting off an arm—”

“Wait!”

Before Temisian could take a single step, Trienne yanked Ysaris forward, dangling her limp body like a shield. A blatant hostage threat.

“Harming me would be a very poor decision.”

“Foolish theatrics. Your hand will be severed before you can so much as scratch her.”

“A curse!”

Just as Temisian tensed to move at Kazhan’s signal, Trienne raised his voice sharply. Relieved when the swordsman halted, he hurriedly continued.

“I’ve placed a curse on the Empress! If I’m hurt, she suffers the same wounds!”

“What?”

Kazhan’s expression darkened. The claim was absurd—but if true, the risk was too great to ignore.

“How do I believe that?”

“I’m a dark mage. And the curses passed down in the Eastern Continent are derivatives of dark magic. Is it so strange that I’d know the Puppetry Curse?”

Kazhan didn’t know the specifics of the Puppetry Curse, but he could guess. Likely, any injury inflicted on one would mirror onto the other.

And that was very bad news.

“Do you know why I left the Empress unrestrained? Because I had insurance!”

“Explain.”

“She can’t defy me—not without harming herself. And she can’t leave this place, either. I’ve bound her soul here!”

“You—”

Kazhan’s jaw clenched as Trienne grinned wider, his confidence growing by the second.

“Step outside a certain range, and she dies. So what will you do? The Empress is fated to spend the rest of her life here with me. Best retreat now. Though I wouldn’t mind some compensation—but I won’t get greedy. For now, how about lowering that terrifying sword of yours?”

Temisian glanced at Kazhan, waiting for orders. But the Emperor didn’t return his gaze. Instead, his crimson eyes burned with even fiercer killing intent as he stared at the dark mage.

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

Knowledge of dark magic had long been sealed away as forbidden lore. Even Kazhan, who had researched it months prior, only knew the basics—that it operated on life force and could directly affect living beings under certain conditions. The specifics? Unknown.

And that uncertainty was the perfect stage for Trienne’s performance.

“Shall we test it, then? Whether I’m telling the truth?”

A bone-white smile spread beneath the dark hood. From start to finish, the dark mage—now regaining his magic bit by bit—had every advantage to weave a flawless deception.

And he intended to use it.