What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 228

“The most important matters of the nation should be handled by me, the Emperor. Not you.”

“Your Majesty, you are not yet fit to— Aaagh!”

A slick, visceral sound—blood splattered. Jebiken, whose intellect soared but whose physical prowess was pitiful, lost an arm as it thudded to the floor.

Thud!

“Your Majesty, are you unharmed?!”

The office erupted into chaos. Jebiken, hunched over and groaning, unable to even clutch his severed limb; the clamor of guards rushing in at the scream—all of it a cacophony.

“Leave. This is merely the punishment of a criminal who insulted his Emperor.”

A hesitation.

“But the Chancellor—”

“I said leave.”

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

The guards retreated under the Emperor’s icy gaze, his bloodied sword still in hand. A few glanced fleetingly at the Empress, who stood to the side with her mouth covered, but none dared speak of her.

The door clicked shut. The first to break the silence was Jebiken, his voice strained through gritted teeth, groans leaking through despite his efforts.

“A criminal, you say… Khh… How could Your Majesty… do this to me—”

“One. The crime of belittling your Emperor.”

Kazhan’s voice was steel, severing Jebiken’s protest. A tally of sins—or so it seemed, until the sword struck again.

Slick.

“Agh!!”

“Two. The crime of daring to use your ability to manipulate and humiliate your Emperor.”

Now armless, Jebiken’s face paled, sweat cold as death beading on his skin. Pain was secondary; the sword raised high showed him his future with brutal clarity.

His ability—useless without physical contact. Desperate, he raised his voice, but Kazhan granted no reprieve.

“W-wait—!”

“Three. The crime of sowing discord between the Emperor and Empress. For this, you are sentenced to death.”

“You can’t—!”

Slick. Thud.

Jebiken’s head hit the floor, his body twisting too late. A pitiful end for a man who’d once wielded power rivaling the Emperor’s.

“……”

The thick stench of blood filled the office. In the silence that followed, Ysaris—who had watched the execution without a word—finally spoke, slow and deliberate.

“Was killing the Chancellor truly the best course?”

No one had wished for Jebiken’s death more than Ysaris. She was, after all, the primary victim of his schemes.

Yet even she wasn’t certain his crimes warranted death. Whether he deserved to die—that, she couldn’t decide. So she’d left the judgment to Kazhan. And this was the result.

Her face shadowed, the aftertaste bitter despite not having swung the blade herself, Ysaris listened as Kazhan answered calmly.

“Yes. This was the best. He was too troublesome to leave alive.”

Jebiken’s ability was dangerous. Even a blood oath wouldn’t guarantee control. A man who could escape prison and plot anew was better eradicated.

Even Runellia, in her final throes, had kidnapped Ysaris. What might Jebiken have done?

Had Ysaris not been here, perhaps—but Kazhan couldn’t risk repeating past mistakes. Above all else, his resolve to eliminate any threat to Ysaris had sealed Jebiken’s fate.

Better to lose sleep and shoulder his duties than gamble again.

“……”

Silence settled once more. The two stood motionless, staring at each other—until, at the same moment, they spoke.

“Ysaris.”

“I’ve spent days thinking.”

Kazhan closed his mouth, letting her continue. The slight loosening of her formal speech kindled a fragile hope in him.

She’d unraveled Duke Barilio’s schemes. Perhaps she’d recognize that he, too, had been a victim—

But—

“I still can’t forgive you.”

What awaited him was despair.

“Not as Ysaris Chernian, who once loved you. Not as Ysaris Tennilath, who suffered under you. Not even as the woman I am now, who reunited with you after losing my memories.”

Her voice was quiet. Final.

Like a death sentence.

“I’ve decided I cannot live by your side, Kazhan Tennilath.”