Chapter 193: So Long, Regrets

“That’s not what I’m asking. You could have run. If power was all that mattered, you should have been the first to flee, not come here.”

“…You’re dwelling on pointless things. Trying to shake me up by linking me to the Emperor, are you? Fine, then let me say something too.”

You know what?

A voice as soft as a serpent’s whisper echoed. Meeting his crimson gaze, the Duke’s eyes curved into a smile.

“If you had died during the Eight Years’ War, I, the Emperor, your family, even Cruel, would all have been happy. If it weren’t for you, the Human Realm wouldn’t have been trampled by the Demon Realm, and innocent people wouldn’t have died.”

“That’s your counterattack…?”

A snort, a clear mockery, followed.

Just as the Duke widened his eyes, wondering if he’d misheard, Deon lunged, his hand clamping around the Duke’s neck and slamming him to the floor. Before the Duke could react, a dagger flashed, piercing his shoulder.

“Kuh!”

“Sorry, but thanks to someone, my mind is already beyond breaking.”

Doesn’t work on me.

As if playing a prank, Deon twisted the dagger. A stifled groan escaped from below.

‘Should I just kill him?’ Deon mused quietly, gazing down at the Duke.

“Just answer this. Why did you do it? Was there some reason you had to contract with the Demon King?”

“Keuh, hehehe…”

A mocking laugh mingled with pained groans.

With lips mangled and bitten raw, he grinned, sneering.

“Why, were you expecting some grand reason, some heartrending backstory? And what if there was? You’re not going to let me live after all this, are you? It’ll just leave a bad taste in your mouth.”

“…There really is one?”

“No. There isn’t.”

“…….”

What a priceless expression.

The biggest laugh of his life erupted. Felt like he was spending a lifetime’s worth of laughter here. No, considering he was about to die today, it wasn’t just a feeling.

“The contract with the Demon King was just a pawn, a possible edge for greater power, a stepping stone to climb higher.”

Now that I’ve contracted, it’s not even that useful. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have bothered.

Gritting his teeth at the Duke’s brazen attitude, Deon growled.

“…I hope you regret it.”

“Oh my.”

“I hope you regret it so deeply, so agonizingly, that you die drowning in regret.”

A voice laced with pain, as if bleeding, more tormented than the listener.

The perpetrator, staring down at the victim with tears of blood welling in his eyes, smirked.

“That’s why I don’t regret anything.”

My regret will become your laughter.

A person should know when to leave. The moment the Duke heard the news that the Emperor was alone in the palace, he knew that time was now.

The Emperor would die. Then, only the Duke would remain. Deon Hart’s targets for revenge were the Duke and the Emperor. As long as he lived, the Empire, with Deon Hart at the forefront of the Demon King’s army, would be the primary target. For the sake of the new Empire that the Crown Prince and Princess would establish in the new capital, he had to die.

But he didn’t want to die willingly.

‘Let’s see you live the rest of your life with this nagging feeling.’

Watching him die without regret, wallowing in defeat, for the rest of his life.

Like lightning, Deon Hart drew a new dagger, piercing the back of the Duke’s hand. A scream of excruciating pain erupted, but the smile on his lips remained.

“Haa, ha, ha ha! And regret is like a domino; once you start regretting, there’s no end to it. You can’t regret your whole life, can you?”

Deon, slowly twisting the dagger through the back of the Duke’s hand, met the Duke’s eyes. Exposing his crimson eyes burning with murderous intent, he growled.

“That’s because you’ve lived your life like trash.”

“…….”

The Duke fell silent.

Only for a moment, as if trying to end the conversation, he changed the subject.

“I wondered how you survived the Duke’s residence, but it seems you’ve become the Hero.”

He was radiating beauty as if he alone was illuminated. Impossible to miss.

Normally, he might have been captivated by that appearance, but unfortunately for the Duke, Deon Hart was nothing more than a cockroach to him now.

‘What a persistent, disgusting life force.’

At this point, Deon Hart’s life force was probably thicker and stronger than a dozen ropes woven together. Could there even be anyone in this world who could sever it?

“Becoming the Hero must have given you some immunity to magic.”

“Why, are you going to use magic to kill me?”

“No. Magic isn’t omnipotent, it seems. Besides, with this magic power, I probably couldn’t even manage a decent attack.”

“Then what?”

He hadn’t been conserving magic power for nothing.

Even when the Demon King’s army advanced, the Duke hadn’t used magic. Using it would be futile against the Demon King’s mere gesture. Perhaps it would have been thwarted by other demons before even reaching the Demon King.

The only times he used magic were to create a secret space in the Salvation Church, to preserve Cruel Hart’s head, and to conceal the presence of the commoners hidden in the Duke’s residence.

He had consumed a considerable amount of magic power in these processes, but a usable amount still remained.

So.

“I will cast a curse.”

“…A curse?”

Wasn’t that the domain of sorcery?

Deon frowned at the mention of a word somewhat distant from magic.

“Yes. Using all the magic power I received from the Demon King, I curse you.”

Eyes with a strange light stared straight into crimson eyes. Finally, lips parted slowly, uttering an eerie voice.

“[May you never meet a peaceful death.]”

“…….”

“Well, originally, I wanted to cast something worse, but with my current magic power, this is the limit.”

Now, as if telling Deon to kill him as he pleased, the Duke smiled brightly. Deon frowned, looking at him.

It wasn’t because of the curse. Peaceful death? Rather, it was welcome.

It was just, why is this bastard so desperate to torment me?

“…You know what?”

He opened his mouth slowly.

“The day I was dragged to the battlefield, my birthday was a month away.”

“…….”

“And my hyung, Cruel, died a month before his birthday.”

“…….”

“You really are a vile bastard.”

The Duke laughed.

“You’re just realizing that now?”

Thwack!

Another splash of crimson dye was added to the red uniform.

***

General Nemesius, the Empire’s first Hero and the Emperor’s first sword, rushed back to the collapsed palace, legs aching as if breaking, barely managing to escort the Crown Prince and Princess to safety.

He knew hoping for the Emperor to be alive was too much to ask, so he had prepared himself on the way. He only wished that at least the body would be intact.

‘Intact, yes, but…’

Not just one body, but two.

His eyes, sweeping across the floor, lifted. In his widened vision, he saw the Emperor’s corpse and the Duke’s corpse, and standing before them, Deon Hart, stained with blood.

With an unreadable expression, Deon was looking down at the Duke’s corpse. Then, as if noticing Nemesius’s presence, he slowly turned his head to look this way. Meeting those chilling crimson eyes was momentary; Nemesius shifted his gaze to the Emperor. A sigh of lament escaped him.

“…Your Majesty.”

Complex emotions swirled within his chest, forming a small vortex. Clear sorrow resided within.

The first person the 9th Prince Eudoard recruited before vying for the throne was Nemesius. He had poured even his meager funds into sponsoring the commoner-born man who was working as a gladiator in the arena, hoping to draw him in.

In other words, their relationship was by no means light, and the time they had spent together was heavy. Seeing the corpse, he couldn’t possibly be indifferent.

[What is your name?]

[Nemesius? Grand but meaningless name.]

[Not belittling it. The name itself may not have a meaning, but I feel I understand your parents’ hearts. They must have pieced together impressive-sounding words they heard here and there, hoping their child would grow up to be great. That in itself is deeply meaningful, so, you.]

[Do you have any intention of becoming great, like your parents’ wish in your name?]

“…See? I told you that guy was dangerous.”

His spirit, which couldn’t even bear the guilt he himself shouldered, couldn’t possibly be strong. A guy like that, if his mind broke, who knew what he would do.

Muttering bitterly, Nemesius picked up a sword lying not far from the Emperor’s corpse.

He, too, must have grasped a sword like this. He would never abandon his pride, even in death. He must have fought against this traitor with his sword until the very last moment. And Nemesius intended to do the same.

‘Your Majesty wished for me to escort Your Highnesses, but… you didn’t explicitly command it.’

I can afford this much stubbornness, right?

Nemesius noticed Deon Hart had become the Hero at first glance. Apart from worrying inwardly that the Empire’s future, no, the Human Realm’s future was bleak, Nemesius hardened his resolve. He hadn’t wavered from the start.

Grasping the blood-stained hilt, he pointed the blade at Deon Hart.

“I thought you were inhuman before, but now you’ve become a monster.”

Tilting his head, Deon took a step forward. Even in that simple action, a dignity not seen before was evident. Nemesius raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not running?”

“…The Emperor isn’t the end, is he?”

The Emperor was just the beginning. He would probably stain his sword with more blood in the future. Even knowing this, he had no intention of just leaving it be.

He was a general of the Empire, possessed strength, and had a duty to protect the innocent.

“Come. This is your grave.”

Your grave too, will be here.

‘…Why.’

Why do they keep doing this, knowing they’ll die? Realizing it was unavoidable, Deon drew his dagger. A sigh-laden voice escaped him as if muttering.

“…Why are there so many foolish people in this world?”

“…….”

“Of course, I’m no exception.”

His measured stride, with consistent pace, silently trod the ground. Walking straight towards Nemesius, Deon spoke.

“Since it’s come to this, I’ll do my best to kill you.”

“That’s the most welcome thing I’ve heard lately.”

***

Too many people killed in a single day. No, correction. Too many big shots killed in a single day.

The sensation of stabbing someone still lingered on his hand, and Deon rubbed his palm against his clothes for no reason.

‘Damn it, why does everyone die without regrets?’

He didn’t understand why they made him feel so unpleasant.

Recalling the eyes that shone brightly until their last moments, Deon finally couldn’t bear the foul mood and pulled out a cigarette case from his pocket. Sitting down on some nearby debris, he lit up, but as if this place was some kind of ant hell, another presence was felt.

“…Ah, really.”

What are the demons at the main gate even doing? Are they having chicken fights or something?

With the freshly lit cigarette in his mouth, he stood up.

Who would it be this time? He hoped they would just back off. His body wasn’t tired, but mentally, he was exhausted. With a sullen and bored expression undisguised on his face, he turned around, and the moment Deon confirmed the face of his opponent, he froze.

“I heard the Demon King’s army was advancing on the capital at high speed, so I hurried over, but it seems I’m already too late.”

“…….”

“Why so quiet? It’s been a long time since we last met. You should at least greet me properly.”

“…Stigma Senior.”

“Yes, Junior.”

It’s been a while, again.

The Empire’s second Hero, Stigma Primiero, was smiling softly.