The gleaming blade, his biting words, and that frigid look in his eyes—realizing where this was going, Viteos lifelessly hung his head. “Why...” he muttered, gaze empty and resigned. “I didn’t do anything wrong... I was just trying to be a proper Altanian emperor...”
“Indeed, you are not at fault. When the ruler strays from their path, it is the vassals’ duty to admonish them—yet I turned a blind eye and senselessly hoped that you would amend your ways. Thus, I am the one at fault.”
These words were his parting gift for Viteos, because nothing else Raid said could reach him anymore. Raid had known from the moment Viteos had given him that decree following the Sage’s death that all the time he’d spent waiting and believing had been for naught. Now, even faced with his inevitable death, Viteos still failed to comprehend his mistakes. So at the very least, Raid would let him pass free of guilt and remorse. No matter how irredeemable or pitiful he was, and no matter if he’d ultimately been the product of his era and birth, he at least deserved salvation in his final moments—this was Raid’s duty as a former vassal of the great empire.
“Your Imperial Majesty, Emperor Viteos,” said Raid for the last time. “Please pardon your subject’s act of treachery.”
After uttering his final words as the man’s vassal, Raid swung his broadsword. The silence in the air was punctuated by a single dull thud, following which Raid solemnly closed his eyes.
The hatred Raid had felt for the man was real, and the atrocities he’d committed as a tyrant were inexcusable—but Raid could not deny that Viteos had been his sovereign and that he needed to end things with his own two hands. He’d always regretted that he couldn’t save that irredeemable fool himself—but now, he could finally part ways with his homeland for good.
Of course, his business here was still far from over.
“Now then... Time to clean up,” he muttered as he swung his sword down, whipping the blood off his blade. His gaze shifted toward the man curled up in the corner of the room. “Hey, you—old man.”
“How dare you address me with such uncouth speech?! I am of the proud and noble imperial family—”
“Wow, I’m getting a serious case of déjà vu here. Do all you folks in the imperial family talk this way? Maybe I have a few more heads to lop off after all.”
“Eek! F-Forgive me—I apologize! I take it you are Lord Raid Freeden, yes?! Oh, how could I show such disrespect to the great and legendary Sage?!” The old man—evidently a member of the imperial family—threw himself to the ground in a complete one-eighty.
Raid was tempted to ask him where all his pride went, but it seemed he’d hardly had any to begin with, seeing as he’d left everything in Viteos’s hands. The passing of time seemed to have done no favors for the imperial family’s competence. Regardless, that didn’t matter anymore.
“Order your soldiers to stand down right now,” Raid demanded. “And gather every political authority in the empire, including your family.”
“A-Are you truly going to...p-purge us?!”
“Like hell I will. My business was with Viteos and Viteos alone—I don’t plan to lay a hand on anybody else. If anything, I’m about to offer you guys a surefire way of survival in this ruined world.” Raid’s lips curled into a cunning grin. “So, how about it? Give us Altane—and we’ll give you a future.”