Chapter 74: Chaos on the Field and Rhymes of Rebellion
by xennovel* * *
Strangely, every time Lara Schmord competed, every opposing knight collapsed with a look of relief. When Karlahee returned to his seat of honor, Lara’s match—having unexpectedly reached the semifinals—was just getting underway.
“Lawrence! I never expected you to make it this far. But the victor of this match is…”
“Not like you!”
Lara exploded in anger and charged at the enemy knight. Of course, while swinging her heavy sword, she lost her balance and tumbled onto the dirt floor. In that moment, just as her opponent was about to counter, a burst of white light shot out from somewhere and struck his wrist.
It felt as if the years of wrist tunnel syndrome had vanished in an instant. Dropping his sword, the enemy knight smiled with not an ounce of regret. Sensing no fight left in Lara, the referee immediately waved his flag toward her.
“…L-Lawrence Schmord wins!”
“I told you, not like you!”
Lara quickly retrieved her sword and charged at the referee, her anger unchecked. At the moment the referee clutched his head in pain and screamed, someone darted in amidst a cloud of dust to shield him.
“Who are you… who the hell are you?!”
Despite the referee’s puzzled inquiry, Elina II spread her arms wide to protect him—even as she nonchalantly donned cheerleader attire.
“Enough! This fighting has to stop now!”
Elina II squeezed her eyes shut. Wielding a sword in such wild antics—she was sick to death of this barbaric culture. Elina III felt the same; everyone was bound to get hurt.
At the sound of Elina II’s heartfelt cry, Lara immediately regained her senses and lowered the sword she had been half-raised.
“…What have I done…?”
She had nearly injured someone else because of her brother, and tried to shift the blame onto him.
“Really, as a dimension traveler, I can’t stand this! What good comes from wounding each other with swords?! How long will you all be obsessed with this? Go settle it with soccer or baseball! I came here to cheer you on sincerely—what is this?! Do you need to kill someone to feel satisfied?!”
Elina II began baring her teeth in a frenzied manner, her gaze fixed on the imperial Karlahee seated in the high seat.
“Hey, aren’t you the emperor of this country?!”
The audience buzzed with chatter. It was an attention-grabbing stunt that would have trended as ‘Swordswoman of the Tournament’ in real time.
Undeterred, Elina II boldly pointed at Karlahee and shouted.
“You too! Don’t just stand there—step in and stop this! Aren’t you the highest authority here?! This is outrageous! Do you care if a citizen dies? Not even a blink! How can you be called a king of the people?!”
Elina II’s public disses continued, and everyone fell silent.
“He’s no Kim Jong Il or Park Chung Hee~ What kind of dictatorship is this country anyway?”
‘Well, maybe it is a dictatorship…’
Since the country was ruled by a tyrant, it truly was a dictatorship. Lara agreed silently, though she refrained from speaking it aloud. Even if she wanted to intervene, her reverence for God held her back.
In truth, Lara thought she was simply an attention seeker, but she grudgingly accepted it. Meanwhile, Elina II’s antics continued unabated.
“Yo! If you have something to say, spit it out in a rap!!”
“I heard that the lady of the Duke Liniat Family fell into a coma after a carriage accident a few days ago and has barely regained consciousness… what is this…”
“No matter how esteemed a court lady she is, you can’t just stand by and watch such shameless behavior! This insults the dignity of the imperial court!”
“You’ve completely crossed the line… What are you waiting for? Drag her before His Highness!”
Displeased senior officials abruptly stood up, but Karlahee only glowered darkly, remaining seated. A tense silence fell over the hall like the calm before a storm.
Karlahee seized the sword displayed on the upper seat and rose. With determined strides, he made his way toward Elina II. The atmosphere was so grim it felt as if he might decapitate her at any moment.
‘What will we do?! You’ve really pushed it too far! We’re about to get killed!!’
Lara cautiously stepped forward, trying to intervene, but Pea’s face was completely unfamiliar—as if it belonged to someone she’d never seen. It hardly looked like the Pea she knew. In his deeply shadowed eyes, a chilling coldness, sharp as a blade, resided.
The murderous aura in the air seemed to tighten around her neck. Breathing became a struggle. Even without a real chill, her fingertips trembled involuntarily. It was as if she were confronting the greatest fear a human can face.
At that very moment, Karlahee’s sword darted forward, halting just in front of his chin.
“Yo, chop! Chop! In the Addoran Empire, the exemplary noble, Fabular Tabulas—I twist the beat and break it apart—I am Emperor Karlahee! My microphone is my sword! I’ll cut you all down, you miserable wretches—how are your parents?!”
Karlahee gripped his sword like a microphone and launched into a sharp rap. In response, Elina II staggered back before launching her own counter-rap.
“If I twist the beat, then you’re the debt-ridden wretch of the people! Where did all the taxpayer money go, you disgraceful emperor?! I’ll pay the interest with our parents’ cards—since our folks are in good health, go check on your mom…”
A warm, bantering rap about their parents erupted, laced with vibrant and intense lyrics. The audience listened intently, frowning yet oddly satisfied.
The rap battle lasted for nearly twenty minutes.
“Haa… haa…”
“Haa… whoo…”
In the dust-laden arena, the two exchanging rap insults glared at each other until their lips eventually curled into grudging smiles. Despite the disses, they acknowledged each other’s talent.
From then on, in place of the brutal swordsmanship tournaments, the empire held an annual rap battle—thanks to a dimension-traveling possession woman.
Chapter 10: The Demon King’s Bride’s Code
For the first time in imperial history, the swordsmanship tournament ended without a winner, and two days had passed. At the Daeshin Shrine, preparations for the saintly investiture were in full swing. With a sacred day approaching, the engagement ceremony between the Emperor and Lady Elina I was also set to take place, leaving no room for error.
Lady Elina V had secluded herself in the depths of the shrine, cutting ties with the outside world to maintain her purity.
“Your Holiness.”
Lady Elina V raised her head at the sound of a low voice outside the door. It was Sir Milo, the knight of the holy order.
“Tomorrow is the day when your saintly presence will be proclaimed across the continent.”
“Indeed… I keep questioning whether I truly deserve to stand in that position.”
Lady Elina V replied in a soft, almost fading voice. Being revered as a saint within the shrine while being admired by the entire world were two very different things. She wasn’t ready to accept it yet.
“But I must accept it if it is the destiny bestowed by God.”
“I, too, will stake my life to protect Your Holiness.”
Due to recent suspicious activities near the Daeshin Shrine, security had been tightened considerably. Moved by Sir Milo’s unwavering resolve, Lady Elina V smiled wistfully.
“By the way, will you deliver this embroidery to our Duke Liniat Family?”
Through the gap in the door, a white hand extended, holding a silver silk embroidery. The intricate work—a white egret crafted by her fingertips—seemed ready to take flight at any moment. Sir Milo admired it silently before carefully tucking it away.
“I will ensure it reaches safely.”
“Thank you.”
As Sir Milo’s footsteps faded away, Lady Elina V finally smiled. Tomorrow had arrived at last. For a long while, she gazed quietly at the moon rising outside the window.
* * *
“Your Highness, I present my respects. At long last, the engagement with Lady Elina I is finalized today.”
Since early morning, Karlahee had been occupied greeting his subjects one after another. The discarded items piled behind the throne were wrapped in lavish, brightly colored silks, flaunting their high value.
Looking tired, Karlahee rose from his seat on the high platform.
“Time to prepare. I’m off to change into proper attire.”
He signaled lightly to the guards and attendants following him.
“Attendants, you’re dismissed. Everyone, leave.”
As he strode through the door with his cape billowing behind him, the knights stationed by the pillars closed it. After traversing the long corridor, Karlahee entered an empty bedroom and shrugged off his cumbersome cape; he was already exhausted.
He casually tossed his cape onto the bed and bent toward the floor beside it. Lifting the carpet with his fingertips, he revealed a large, hidden door leading to a basement.
Lifting the door upward uncovered stone steps descending underground—a secret escape route constructed long ago, known only to the Emperor for life-threatening emergencies.
Grabbing a nearby candle holder, Karlahee descended the steps. The wind from below brushed against his crimson hair streaked with the gleam of his sword—a clear sign that the passage connected to the outside.
After about an hour, he reached the corridor’s end and climbed a ladder affixed to the wall. Quickly, he opened the manhole cover above and stepped outside.
He found himself in a nondescript residential area. Scanning his surroundings, Karlahee quickly made his way toward his mansion.