It had been a week since Crow Titus had awoken—and each day, Emperor Zilsonia’s complexion had worsened.
Today, once again, he slouched on his throne, listening to the prime minister’s report.
“I must apologize, Your Majesty. The matter of Crow’s eradication is—”
“Another failure, I assume,” the emperor cut in.
All hope was lost. Day after day after day, his minions had failed. Apart from that first attempt, they hadn’t even managed to get close to Crow at all.
The emperor had completely lost faith in Prime Minister Superbius.
“Enough. Superbius, you are to appoint your successor at once.”
“Wha— Your Majesty?!”
“Your son is not an option, incidentally. I am permanently banishing your family from taking part in government affairs.”
“What?! Your Majesty! This is far too cruel! Have we not served you faithfully all these years?!” the minister protested tearfully.
Ignoring his cries, Zilsonia stood. His hands trembled with revulsion. He had been unable to eliminate Crow, and now the day had finally arrived—the day when he, the emperor and a royal, would have to extol that insignificant, filthy commoner. The day he’d have to conduct a public commendation ceremony to celebrate that man’s achievements. He had no choice but to take part in this nightmare that his mother, Eldia, had concocted.
This nightmare that his people had high hopes for.
“Y-Your Majesty, please, wait! This is all Iris of the White Blade’s fault!” the prime minister pleaded, clinging to Zilsonia’s feet as he wept.
He, too, was in a desperate situation. Superbius had been a faithful dog of the tyrannical emperor for many years, all to secure his own prosperity and that of his descendants. He held on tightly, unable to bear the thought of losing the decades of time and effort he’d devoted to this.
“I-It’s that woman’s fault! She’s lurking around the empress dowager’s estate at all hours, preventing my men from reaching Crow!”
“Silence,” Zilsonia commanded.
“Damn her!” the minister continued. “I tried to legally force her to leave the estate, but she ignored every one of my summonses! Such impudence! Yes, it’s all her fault! All of it!”
“What part of ‘silence’ did you not understand?!” the emperor snapped as his anger reached its peak. Clutching his golden scepter, he raised it overhead and forcefully brought it down on the prime minister’s skull.
The minister groaned in pain as gray matter spewed forth from both the wound and his ears. His aging, infirm frame convulsed, and his limbs contorted in an unsightly dance.
It was clearly a fatal blow, but the emperor’s rage did not abate. Over and over and over and over, he brought the golden scepter down on the prime minister’s head.
“Die! Die! Die, die! All you incompetent fools who exist only to torment me must die!”
Superbius screamed, groaned, and sputtered as Zilsonia’s angry shouts echoed in the throne room. With each cry, the beautiful scepter was dyed a deeper crimson, coated in more and more of the minister’s blood.
“P-Please,” the victim pleaded, “Sto— I-I have— My beloved son— I don’t want...to die!”
“I don’t caaaaaare!” his assailant shrieked.
With one final, particularly powerful blow, the prime minister’s movements ceased at last.
“Haah... Haah... Haaaaaah...” This was the moment that Emperor Zilsonia crossed a line as a ruler. He had killed many people before, but they had all been commoners. A noble, and a loyal servant at that? This was the first time.
Still, he was unrepentant. “Have you learned your lesson, Superbius?!”
The emperor was now a murderer. In a fit of rage, he had killed his faithful minister of many years.
He was now a true tyrant.
“Haah... Damn you, dirtying my royal scepter with your filthy blood,” said Zilsonia, entirely unconcerned with Superbius’s corpse.
And that was when the golden scepter gleamed, emanating aethereal light.
“Wh-What is this?! It’s casting a spell on its own!”
The scepter had been passed down in the royal family for generations. It was something they called a “perfect aethereal arm”—one that had remained intact through the ages. Ordinarily, aethereal weapons were refined from parts of legendary equipment. This perfect arm, however, had remained pristine since the era of the gods.
Thus, the scepter was seen as the rightful heritage of the emperor of Lemuria. But it had been no more than a treasure. Its true name and abilities remained unknown.
There’d been those who had tried to uncover its mysteries, of course. Due to its nature as a royal treasure, however, more ambitious experiments had not been possible. The details remained unclear.
“Hngh! What’s happening?! This is...”
The golden light emitted from the staff traveled to the body of the recently murdered minister, causing it to morph.
With a gruesome sound, the minister’s corpse began to dissolve. In the blink of an eye, his flesh liquefied. Before long, even his bones and hair melted away.
“Oh! Ohhh!”
All that was left before the stunned emperor was the prime minister’s robe, soaked in his liquid remains.
“Pfft! Ha ha ha ha!” At this display of power, Zilsonia burst into laughter. “Oh, my marvelous scepter! Who would’ve thought it could dissolve people?! With this... With this, I can...!”
Finally, a light appeared at the end of the tunnel of his disgrace! He could completely obliterate that abominable commoner, Crow Titus. Not even a corpse would remain!
The emperor chuckled maniacally. “Well, well. Time to be magnanimous and celebrate our beloved hero!”
Clutching his golden scepter tightly, he headed for the public commendation ceremony, no longer disgusted by the thought of participating. Instead, he resolved to sing the young man’s praises to the skies, if only it meant he could obliterate Crow forever.
Why, the emperor might even confess to his attempts at assassinating the swordsman and bow his head tearfully.
And then...
“As soon as he lets his guard down, I’ll use the scepter’s power and destroy him once and for all!” he declared, confident that his plan would work.
After all, not even the royal family knew what powers the scepter had. So there was no way Crow would know. Surely the young man would assume the emperor was a weakling, unable to fight for himself.
And Zilsonia would use that misconception to his advantage. He would kill that pest.
“Victory will be mine in the end, Crow Titus!” he declared, cackling loudly as he walked out of the throne room.
Thus did he advance toward the stage of the final battle—fully unaware that on that detestable commoner’s finger was the ring of his mother, Eldia.