Chapter 112: They Actually Knew

It was nothing much. Just one of those common, trivial occurrences whenever there was a banquet—someone overindulging and getting drunk.

That is, until the junior, slurring and rubbing his face with a silly grin, asked if I was the enemy.

A mischievous curiosity piqued within me. Honestly, when someone drunk asks you that, doesn’t a part of you want to say yes? Stigma was simply more decisive in acting on it.

So I replied,

“[That’s right.”

The junior’s reaction was unexpected.

He laughed. He laughed like a madman. He laughed so hard I worried he’d lose his breath—

—and then, without warning, he attacked.

I was a little taken aback at first, but in the end, it was just the attack of someone who didn’t possess a fragment of the Hero, the rampage of a drunkard. No matter how much of an official hero of the Empire he was, as long as this gap existed, it was nearly impossible for Deon Hart to kill Stigma.

‘Though, things would have been different if he wasn’t drunk.’

Anyway, the situation had escalated, and we couldn’t stay like this forever.

I tried to resolve things peacefully as much as possible, but there was no sign of him calming down, so what choice did I have?

‘Subdue him.’

Seeing him wielding daggers in both hands and acting like a maniac, I didn’t have the confidence to subdue him barehanded, so I drew my sword.

I only intended to knock away his daggers, but… Deon Hart vanished!

Following the afterimage, I lifted my gaze and saw Cruel Hart holding Deon Hart in his arms a short distance away. The Emperor’s voice reached my ears almost simultaneously.

“Don’t kill him, Marquis Primiero.”

***

My brother was born without pigment. As if in a hurry, he was born prematurely. Even before I was surprised by his unique skin and hair color, I clearly remember the whole family breathing a sigh of relief that he barely escaped being a premature infant, even at my young age.

Of course, I was shocked by the color his eyes showed when he finally opened them afterwards.

The heavens seemed not content with taking away color from my brother, and also stole his health. As if his conscience was pricked, he left behind only one thing. Cruel still remembers what the doctor said then.

“[It seems all the health that should be spread throughout his body is concentrated in his liver!”

So much time has passed, but how could I forget those words? The only thing the heavens, who took everything else, didn’t take.

The only health left for my brother, Deon Hart.

‘…And yet.’

To dare, to try and ruin that, and on top of that—

‘You swung a sword at my brother?’

He’s a child too precious to ever truly hate. At that child. You.

‘How dare you.’

My insides churn with anger. I try to suppress it as always, but the emotions I couldn’t quite manage to contain leaked out, making the arm holding the child tremble.

Cruel quietly tightened his grip on Deon Hart, glaring at Stigma as if to tear him apart. Naturally, Stigma felt wronged.

But before he could offer any explanation, Deon, who had lifted his head to see who was holding him, spoke first.

“You are…”

“……”

Was he going to ask if I was the enemy?

I was preparing to answer ‘no’ and wait for his next words, but Deon, after making eye contact, seemed to flinch and then moved.

“You’re the enemy!”

He didn’t even ask.

Cruel quickly twisted his body to avoid the swung dagger. He avoided a fatal wound, but because he was openly exposing his vitals and was caught off guard, he couldn’t prevent a scratch on his neck.

Deon didn’t stop there and continued to swing his weapon. The relentless attacks, which felt like they would never end unless his opponent died, now targeted a different person. Stigma had long been pushed to the back of his mind.

In this position, evasion and defense were difficult, so just as I was about to put Deon down and step back, the Emperor moved.

“Step back.”

Cruel retreated, and the Emperor immediately stepped in. Before Deon could even register that his opponent had changed, the Emperor pressed down on the side of the dagger that was aiming for Cruel with the edge of his hand, sliding down to grab his wrist and restrain him.

Belatedly recognizing the new figure, Deon tilted his head, looking puzzled.

“Yooou are… an enemaaay?”

“Deon Hart.”

“Enemyyyy?”

“Get a hold of yourself.”

“Enemy?”

“……”

“……An enemy.”

The moment I felt something ominous in his last words, the wrist I was holding suddenly became heavy, and I heard a snap. Feeling an unpleasant vibration beneath my grip, the Emperor quickly released his hand.

Deon didn’t miss the moment the Emperor’s gaze fell to his wrist and raised his other hand holding the dagger in a vertical strike. The Emperor tilted his head back, barely dodging it, and let out a hollow laugh.

‘…He used his weight to separate the wrist bones.’

Judging that it was difficult to pull his captured wrist away with pure strength, he used it as bait.

If he possessed a fragment of the Hero, he could easily withstand the weight of a person, so he was confident that even if he put his weight on it, the Emperor’s grip wouldn’t loosen or follow his movement. He used this to separate his wrist bones.

Since the Emperor’s goal was to subdue Deon Hart without injuring him, he naturally expected him to release his wrist. He didn’t miss the opportunity to attack in the Emperor’s moment of bewilderment.

Since this action came from being drunk, it could be considered a calculation made by his subconscious.

‘Despite deciding I’m the enemy, he’s even calculating how I’ll react.’

Who would be certain that an enemy wouldn’t harm them? In the end, his subconscious was sure that I wasn’t an enemy.

How audacious. To use his consciousness and subconscious as he pleases.

‘Anyway, now that his wrist is in that state, I shouldn’t delay any longer.’

This time, thanks to putting in real effort, I successfully pressed the flailing Deon Hart onto the table without causing significant harm.

The Emperor held down his good hand and back with his knee, grabbing the dangling wrist. Even in his drunken state, he seemed to clearly feel the pain, as the body beneath him flinched.

It’s only natural that it hurts. So why did he do such a thing? Ignoring his reaction of expressing pain, he gently rotated the grabbed wrist, gauging its position, and called his name again.

“Deon Hart.”

“……ugh…….”

“—It’s time to return to reality.”

Crack. He snapped the bones back into place in one go.

!

Deon’s mouth opened as if he was about to scream. But no sound came out.

The Emperor watched him for a moment, then removed the knee that was pressing down on his body and said a single word.

“Breathe.”

“—Haaah!”

A ragged breath burst out. Gasping intermittently, he slowly blinked and then sluggishly raised himself up. His red eyes, which seemed a little clearer than before, met the golden eyes that had been watching him silently.

“Are you in your right mind now?”

“Your… Majesty…….”

“Yes.”

“I… I want to resign…….”

“You’re still not fully awake.”

It should be about time for the alcohol to wear off. Judging by the fact that he even made such calculations unconsciously, he’s already in the process of sobering up.

Deon Hart sobered up as quickly as he got drunk.

“Get a hold of yourself. This is not a battlefield.”

“Ah…….”

“Someone, bring cold water.”

Cruel was the fastest to react to those words.

Even if what happened had already happened, there shouldn’t be any more incidents that could shake Deon Hart due to Cruel Hart’s actions. The Emperor snatched the glass of water from Cruel’s hand, who was about to approach Deon.

……Come to think of it, Cruel Hart was the Duke’s man.

His eyes met the Duke’s, who had entered at some point and was watching with an intrigued expression. The Emperor’s face twisted.

“……Tch.”

He didn’t immediately hand over the glass but took a sip himself before offering it to Deon. He watched him take it and sip, then called out to a man without turning his head.

“Stigma Primiero.”

“……Yes, Your Majesty.”

“From the start, I didn’t place any alcohol at the banquet that Honorary Count Hart could get drunk on. Explain what happened.”

“There was alcohol confiscated from my subordinates. Due to the nature of my territory, where I have to kill many people, there are sometimes weaklings who try to rely on alcohol and drugs.”

“……”

For a moment, Deon, who was drinking water, tightened his grip on the glass. The Emperor was the only one who saw it.

It was fortunate that he was regaining his senses; otherwise, Stigma would have once again become the target of his earlier attack.

Taking the Emperor’s silence as agreement, Stigma bowed his head.

“I apologize.”

“Enough.”

It had already happened, and the aftermath had been dealt with, so there was no need to escalate it further. Especially if the cause of the incident involved people the Emperor cherished.

Although, that wasn’t the real reason for his silence.

How the commander manages his troops is the commander’s responsibility. The Emperor had no intention of interfering with that, so instead, he called out to Deon Hart.

“Are you feeling a bit more yourself now?”

***

“Are you feeling a bit more yourself now?”

Yes, very much so.

I’m about to erase all memories from a moment ago, and I’d appreciate it if everyone else could forget too.

“Count Hart?”

“……I’m sorry.”

Of course, that won’t happen.

I don’t remember exactly what happened. My wrist throbs, and I feel like I’m about to cough, but I don’t remember what happened.

‘The banquet hall is half-destroyed, but it’s probably not related to me.’

Yeah, that’s it.

In my foggy memories, there’s a scene trying to surface, but I have a strong feeling I’ll regret it, so I don’t focus on trying to recall it.

I cautiously glanced at the Emperor, taking a sip of water. Then, I made eye contact with Cruel.

“Cough, huff, cough cough! Hack! Ugh!”

“……Court physician!”

I just choked, why the court physician…? Ah.

My stomach burns. My throat feels like it’s on fire. But like always, this kind of pain is quickly pushed out of my awareness.

I stared blankly at the blood on my palm before wiping it roughly on my clothes. I’m so glad it’s red, so you can’t really see it even if I wipe it. The clothes the Emperor gave me today are really doing their job.

Stigma, who had been standing quietly, cautiously spoke.

“What kind of… poison is this?”

“No, it’s not poison. At least, not in the water glass. I confirmed it myself.”

He’s finally excluding the assumption of poison. Every time something happens, he shouts, ‘Is it poison?!’

I’d guess this is just stress mixed with everything else that’s happened. Honestly, it’s understandable. I went through a lot today.

‘Besides, even though I don’t remember, my body aches all over, so I must have taken some hits.’

The court physician comes rushing over, panting. I didn’t say I was okay this time. Because I’m not.

I abruptly held out my wrist to the court physician.

“My wrist hurts.”

“Yes?”

“I’d like you to check my wrist.”

“You’re bleeding from your mouth, though…….”

“It seems the aftereffects of the alcohol still linger. Ignore it and treat me.”

Is he all-powerful just because he’s the Emperor?! My wrist hurts, you know?

But no matter how disgruntled I look, the Emperor’s orders take precedence. The court physician ignored the wrist I offered and collected blood from my mouth, dripping it onto various sticks, then began pressing on various parts of my stomach.

“Please tell me if it hurts anywhere.”

“…….”

Nowhere, you idiot. It wasn’t even that kind of—

“Ugh!”

“Here?”

“Huk, wait……!”

Yes, that’s it! That’s where it hurts! Stop pressing! It hurts!

I urgently grabbed the court physician’s wrist and gave him a desperate look to stop. Thankfully, it seemed to work, as he flinched and quietly removed his hand.

The court physician checked the color change on the sticks one last time and then slowly moved away from me, bowing to the Emperor.

“Fortunately, it’s not poison, but your abdomen is bruised from being strongly pressed against something. In a normal case, it wouldn’t be enough to cause vomiting blood, but…….”

“The Demon King’s curse would make it possible.”

The Emperor’s gaze landed on me. Not my face, but a little lower, off to the side.

Following his gaze, I reached for my neck, where the location tracking brand the Demon King had etched was.

‘Wait a minute. The fact that I can see and touch this means…….’