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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: A New Proposal
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Resting his chin on his hand, Darcy inhaled the scent of the candle and glanced at the magic circle drawn on the bathroom floor.
The teleportation circle was his salvation, a means to send him somewhere in the empire where he couldn't be tracked.
He had only managed to complete it after pouring in all the magic stones he’d received from Marso, along with every last one he had collected himself.
The circle, created by crushing and compressing magic stones, would work even in the palace, where magic was completely nullified.
But it was also something he no longer needed.
‘That doesn't mean the magic stones are useless, though.’
He pulled out the bag he had hidden in the bathtub.
He held a weapon he had created based on what Marso had told him.
It was a weapon designed to fire compressed magic stones.
Taking out clumps of magic stones from a pouch, he found the smaller pieces and loaded them into the weapon one by one.
It was the only weapon he could use within the palace, where his magic was forbidden. A weapon he would never have even conceived of without Marso's words.
*Click.*
After shoving the bag and the remaining magic stones back into the bathtub, Darcy tucked the gun into his side. Then, he donned a black robe that resembled the darkness itself.
A faint madness flickered in his eyes before vanishing.
Darcy slowly emerged from the bathroom and locked the door. With a soft *click*, Emperor Kies’s voice pierced his ears.
“You took quite a while.”
Darcy retorted with a faint smile.
“I was having a good time.”
Kies’s eyes narrowed, fixing on Darcy. It was obvious what the scowling emperor was thinking.
*How dare a lowly bastard,* he was probably thinking.
Kies, who had nonchalantly taken the chair Darcy always sat in, spoke.
“Say your goodbyes before you die.”
In the unlit room, figures hidden in the darkness revealed themselves.
Hostile faces, aggressive stances. It would have been harder *not* to know why they were here.
He’d brought a well-rounded group—assassins, mages, and swordsmen. What was even more ridiculous was that they were the very men who had fought alongside him on the battlefield.
Though Darcy, of course, had never been able to reveal himself.
Kies’s actions weren’t surprising. In fact, Darcy would have been more surprised if he *hadn’t* done this.
The curse embedded in his heart.
There was one hour left until the curse—the one that would make his heart explode if he disobeyed the emperor’s command—was lifted.
Kies had cajoled him with promises of letting him live, but Darcy had never fully believed him.
Because if Darcy survived, Kies would have to live the rest of his life in fear of being killed.
Kies leisurely watched Darcy make eye contact with the men, like a man showing mercy to a caged animal.
Darcy blinked, his face expressionless.
He had chosen change over escape. The real trouble was just beginning.
But his mind was clear.
To be honest, it wasn't as if he had anything specific he wanted to do, even if he had escaped. He had simply wanted to live a different life.
Yet now, it felt as if his listless life was becoming more valuable.
“Would you mind waiting just a moment?”
A polite voice flowed from Darcy’s lips as he bowed his head toward Kies. It carried a different sort of dignity than when he was with Marso.
This formal speech was something Kies had drilled into his brain through repeated torture and commands.
That was why he hated it so much.
“Giving up so soon? Very well. I suppose I can grant you that much on your way out.”
They must have finished searching the room, aside from the locked bathroom. In that case, he’ll allow it. With the magnanimity of a victor.
Kies always enjoyed giving him hope, only to crush it.
“You’ve worked hard until now.”
Looking at the face that praised him as if doing a great favor, Darcy chanted a mantra to himself. I’ve endured worse than this.
Feigning resignation, Darcy closed his eyes and reviewed his surroundings.
Five assassins on the right. Five mages in the center. Five swordsmen on the left. Fifteen in total.
*Twenty magic stones in total.*
He recalled the number of magic stones he had loaded into the magic tool he’d invented.
*Now is the time.*
Darcy’s hand moved swiftly.
In an instant, Darcy grabbed the gun and grinned. The magic tool spun in his hand.
“Then I suppose we should start negotiations before that.”
He then fired a magic stone bullet right through the center of Kies’s hand.
*Bang!*
Before Kies could even react, Darcy shoved the muzzle of the gun deep into his temple. The gun, made of magic stones, was quite hard.
“Aaargh!”
Belatedly realizing blood was pouring from his hand, Kies screamed.
But no one dared to approach him.
They sensed instinctively that the moment they moved, Kies would die.
“Now, shall we talk again?”
Darcy whispered in a cheerful voice. His mismatched eyes curved into crescents.
His face, illuminated by the moonlight, was overflowing with vitality.
Everyone in the room held their breath. An orchestrated silence fell over them. The tension continued to mount, becoming suffocatingly cold.
In the dead silence, Darcy felt a thrill of pleasure.
Ah, how long had it been since he’d felt so alive!
“Just a moment. I should at least see what kind of face you’re making.”
Darcy grabbed Kies by the hair and yanked his head back.
“Ugh…” Kies groaned, his neck bent backward. A face filled with terror met Darcy’s gaze.
“My, my, your expression is quite a sight.”
Whispering so only Kies could hear, Darcy narrowed his brow and feigned sympathy.
Just as Kies was about to spit out a venomous retort, Darcy warned him calmly.
“One more word, and you’ll be reunited with all those mages you’ve killed.”
“…!”
It was exhilarating to see Kies trembling like a cornered rat.
The emotions he had buried the moment he decided to leave were now revealing themselves one by one.
Yes, he wanted revenge. He wanted to inflict a pain that surpassed everything he had suffered.
He had wanted to see Kies’s face twisted just like this.
Even when he had decided to leave everything behind, even when he realized he would die if he couldn't gather enough magic stones, he had desperately, hatefully longed to see this face.
Because Kies had never once shown him such a side.
He had always just used him, his eyes gleaming as he spoke of the next task Darcy had to complete.
“You bastard, do you really think you can kill me—”
“I did say I’d arrange a reunion. It seems you still haven’t grasped the situation… sir. I’ll let it slide this once.”
Darcy frowned, realizing he had used formal speech out of habit.
This was also why he had made a point not to use formal speech with Marso. He hated anything that reminded him of Kies.
Kies struggled in his grasp.
Darcy clicked his tongue and pushed the muzzle deeper into his temple. Suddenly, he thought of Marso.
*‘I wonder if Marso would prefer formal speech.’*
Honestly, I wasn't exactly polite to her, so she probably doesn't think highly of it.
This is a problem.
I'll have to see her for a while, and I don't want to ruin the favor I've managed to build.
If anything, I want to raise it.
*‘I guess I should practice five or six different ways of speaking.’*
He was determined to match whatever style of speech Marso preferred.
They would be seeing each other for a long time, after all, and he wanted her to be comfortable whenever they were together.
The sight of Kies trembling violently brought him back from his thoughts. Darcy let the unsightly face drop back to its original position and spoke.
“Give up any thought of saving yourself with a command. I’ll fire this before my heart explodes. If you still don’t understand… I can always shoot you again.”
Darcy could practically hear the gears turning in Kies’s head.
He spoke as if he didn’t mind dying together, but his true feelings were different.
He had to live. He had to live so he could meet Marso and ask her to keep using him, to let him help her by her side.
If he had to use his looks, he would. Marso was weak to his appearance, after all. If that didn't work…
*‘I’ll just have to create my own position.’*
Just like he was doing now.
It was a neat conclusion that satisfied him.
*Tick-tock.* The sound of a clock turning echoed.
Both Darcy’s and Kies’s gazes turned to the clock on the wall.
Its hands pointed to 1:30 in the morning.
He had been born at exactly 2:00 AM. Until then, the curse would remain active.
Kies would try everything to kill Darcy in the remaining thirty minutes.
Darcy calmly studied the men Kies had brought. Since they were men he had fought alongside in battle, he knew their fighting styles inside and out.
Ah, of course, all of his achievements had been credited to Kies.
He took the initiative and laid down a threat.
“If a single one of you steps forward, I’ll shoot. You’ve seen the power of my weapon, so I trust you won’t do anything foolish.”
Darcy made eye contact with each person in the room, reciting their names one by one.
“Silen, Katros…”
As the names flowed effortlessly from his lips, they stared as if they had seen a ghost.
Their faces showed utter confusion as to how a man who was always cooped up in his room could possibly know their names.
“Answer me. Or the emperor dies.”
“Y-Yes, I understand.”
“Understood.”
It was a sudden roll call, but no one dared to question Darcy’s actions.
Having rendered them immobile, Darcy turned his head back to Kies.
“Now, then. I’d like to make you a proposal. No, it’s closer to a command. The kind you so tediously gave me.”
Darcy smirked, revealing his true intentions.
“You’re going to properly reveal the fact that I am the prince. Along with all the credit you’ve stolen until now.”
Darcy had always hidden himself, wearing armor and a helmet.
The armor, tailored to Kies’s build, was completely different from his own, but he had to make it fit. After all, the one who went into battle was always Emperor Kies.
The Angel of Slaughter. A heartless emperor who protected the nation with his outstanding skill, a knight without blood or tears.
He had never once lost. Even when the blood of others splattered his face and soaked his body, he never shed a single tear.
Because he was the perfect emperor.
If anyone happened to notice Darcy’s true identity, he would brainwash them as if nothing had ever happened.
This brainwashing, which chipped away at Darcy’s life force, was used solely for Kies’s benefit.
The people cheered for Kies. They cried out the name of the man who executed mages, ignorant of what kind of person he truly was. The same thing happened again and again.
That would never happen again.
A dead man’s shadow fell over Darcy’s face as he recalled the afterimages of the past.
“Kies Hector Rodrigo, you cannot kill me.”
Darcy muttered to Kies, his words like a curse.
A fierce hatred radiated from his gaze as he stared at Kies.
