What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 269

“……What do you mean by that all of a sudden?”

Instead of answering the slightly stiff-faced Empress, Temisian handed over the princess. The way he swiftly took the child into his arms, as if shielding her from the uneasy atmosphere, felt bitterly ironic today.

Had she given even half—no, a fraction—of the love she poured into her child to the Emperor, perhaps things would have turned out differently.

Now, it was something Temisian would never know. He turned away.

“Follow me. There is something Her Majesty the Empress must see.”

“……”

Without waiting for Ysaris’s reply, Temisian left the room. The footsteps leading to the Emperor’s office were heavy, the sound of someone following close behind weighing on him.

He recalled the moment he had first reunited with Kazhan after the latter’s disappearance in childhood. At the meeting arranged by Duke Barilio, the Sixth Prince, then in his mid-twenties, had been nothing more than a rough, unpolished gem.

Having missed years of imperial education, he was clumsy in many ways. He preferred acting himself over ordering subordinates, his etiquette was a mess—enough to make Temisian click his tongue in private.

The only redeeming qualities were his remarkably skilled swordsmanship for his age and those intense, burning red eyes that drew attention, filled with an inexplicable hunger.

Whatever charm he had, from a noble’s perspective, he was hardly a man one would willingly serve as Emperor. It was difficult to suddenly bow to someone whose ability to rule a vast empire remained unproven.

Yet Temisian had gladly accepted the Blood Oath. The Blake Ducal House had worshipped the power of Tennilath for generations. And since the Sixth Prince was the only awakened one of this era, pledging loyalty to him—even if only in body—was nothing short of fate.

Thus, Temisian became Kazhan’s sword. He cut down royals as his master willed, joined wars, and was wielded in every task requiring covert force.

Life passed in a relentless rush, as if chased by something. Through it all, Temisian came to realize one thing, the new Emperor lived fiercely.

Was it desperation? Or recklessness? Watching Kazhan sweep through the frontlines alongside him, Temisian shook his head more than once.

War had no set hours. Depending on tactics, they might strike first day or night or face sudden ambushes at dawn. Fatigue was inevitable.

Yet Kazhan carved out every moment ruthlessly. To the point where even Temisian, observing, had to marvel at his relentless drive for self-improvement.

He devoured books on statecraft during meals, endured etiquette corrections from the tutor he’d dragged to the frontlines, attended every strategy meeting at dawn without fail, and led charges to rally morale.

He was already Emperor—he could have lounged in comfort, indulging in his power. But Kazhan threw himself into the fires of war, dragging even the Sword Master along, solely to end the conflicts faster.

It was as if he lived in a different time from everyone else.

His schedule was grueling enough to make one wonder if he ever slept. No hobbies, no indulgence—just a single-minded charge forward. No women, no luxury, no abuse of power.

So what was the purpose driving this young Emperor to grind himself to the bone?

Three years into his service, Temisian finally asked—and received a disarmingly simple answer.

Protect? What?

Temisian could have pressed further, but he didn’t. The faint warmth that flickered across the Emperor’s usually expressionless face stole his focus.

It was a moonlit night. The eyes of the man nicknamed “Bloody Demon” softened, tender.

……The face of a man in love.

In that moment, Temisian understood. Whoever Kazhan was thinking of, everything he did was for that one person alone.

To love so blindly… For a fleeting second, Temisian almost envied him. He was even moved by the Emperor’s devotion, which had seemed so devoid of emotion.

Back then, no one knew who held such fortune. Kazhan kept no women close—barely even granted Temisian and Duke Barilio a place at his side.

So when he suddenly brought home the Princess of Pyrein and married her, Temisian was skeptical. If she was the woman he burned for, why did he treat her so indifferently?

Though puzzled, Temisian stayed out of it, observing quietly. More than anything, he hoped the Empress—a Chernian with barbarian blood—wasn’t the Emperor’s true love.