"... Is it right to covet this position?"
"Of course."
"Then why do you covet this position?"
"Because Eduardo Desert is not a person worthy of the position of Emperor."
The Duke had been observing the Emperor intently for a very long time.
That's why he saw it. He had no choice but to see it. A child was crushed to death because he could not bear the weight of the golden crown. The sight of him supporting the weight of the imperial crown at the cost of his life was so vivid that the Duke could easily be convinced that he was not an emperor.
How can he recognize a person who has to sacrifice his own life just to have a golden crown on his head as an emperor?
"It's easy to feel guilty and get broken down by it. An emperor must look forward and move forward, but he only focuses on the past and the things that have been lost. How can he be called an emperor? Are you hallucinating?"
Before anything could come out of the Emperor's mouth, the Duke spoke again.
"There is no need to deny it. Because I'm already sure. Of course, don't ask me how I knew."
"..."
"You often touch the area around your eyes and close and open them tightly. The eyes may not be in clear focus or may be focused on empty space as if looking at something. You show your condition so openly. Even if I didn't know, I can't help but notice."
Hallucinations were evidence of guilt. If you put a wrong stamp on a document, many people's lives will be lost. So many lives were lost— people were killed —that it would have been better to go to the battlefield and swing the sword yourself .
Hallucinations increased. Documents tamped. There were more hallucinations. After checking the list of deaths from the war, his vision became pitch black with hallucinations fille with malice.
"... No, that's not it."
The Emperor pressed the back of his left hand with his right thumb.
The Duke's words were eloquent, but he did not act as Emperor with such clumsy resolve that he could easily be swayed.
Therefore, he said it again.
"Don't change words in a subtle way. I clearly asked why you covet this position. There is no reason why I am not worthy of the position of Emperor."
This time the Duke kept his mouth shut. The silence wasn't very long.
"... Do you need a reason to covet power?"
"It's not wrong, but I don't think that's the whole reason. Is that really all?"
The situation had turned around. This time the Emperor pushed the Duke.
The Duke, who maintained a consistent expression even in a not-so-pleasant situation, opened his mouth casually as if he would reply at any moment, but then paused and raised his gaze to look into the Emperor's eyes. The purple eyes that met the golden eyes were hidden under the curved eyelids as if they were closed.
"To protect something, whether a person or an object, you need power stronger than anyone else."
"... Does someone like you have something to protect?"
"Well. In any case, the Emperor is the pinnacle of power. Isn't it natural to covet it?"
Therefore, the Duke pledged once again.
No matter who the opponent was, even Eduardo, he will definitely take that position.
"I vaguely understand the reason, but you probably know well. There's no way I would give up this position with just a few words."
"..."
"I don't know why you're putting in so much meaningless effort and saying meaningless things. I would rather take the crown from my severed head."
"Why are you saying such scary things? I intend to rightfully take over that position."
Some pressure was inevitable in the process.
He bowed his head gracefully in greeting.
"Anyway, I understand Your Majesty's intentions, so I'll leave for today."
His Majesty wanted to enjoy war games more. Was there anything he could do about it? He couldn't say anything more here or do anything, so he'll just leave him to enjoy playing Emperor a little more.
The purple snake closed its eyes and smiled.
***
There was something the Emperor missed. An inconvenient truth that Deon Hardt noticed, Stigma agreed to, and even the Margrave Amiable could not refute.
'The possibility that other kingdoms will side with the demon realm.'
Furthermore, there is a possibility that the Empire's nobles will betray the Emperor and join the Demon King's side.
The Duke had already predicted that possibility from the moment the Emperor declared war against the demon realm.
And he met the Emperor, talked with him, and became convinced.
The Emperor was ruling out that possibility.
'His Majesty is truly naive.'
He felt like he just wanted to leave it alone and watch the situation unfold, but he couldn't.
"I cannot lose 'my empire' so vainly."
Wasn't that right?
He muttered consciously and snapped his fingers. A man dressed in black appeared somewhere in a deserted space, far from the banquet hall.
"Tell Saerin. Use 'them' to spread evil rumors about the demons."
"Exactly what kind of rumor are you talking about..."
"Anything is fine. I like the rumor that they eat traitors and lie like they breathe, and I also like the rumor that they eat people. All you have to do is make people not believe in demons, whether realistic or illusory."
Rumors that spread in the slums soon spread throughout the Empire's citizens, and the rumors that spread among the Empire's citizens were passed on to the nobles through employees. The rumors of the nobles will soon be delivered to the emperor, so there was no way that other kingdoms paying close attention to the Empire would miss this.
If that happened, no human would dare to think about joining the demon realm. This was one of the reasons why the Salvation Church was left behind.
After hearing a positive answer from the man, the Duke smiled with satisfaction and continued his walking steps.
And then he stopped.
"... Oh, perhaps."
"Tell me."
"Are there any cases where a person with a warrior's fragment loses their power or cannot use their power in a specific situation or area?"
"As far as I know, none. If you command me, I will investigate."
"I think there probably isn't one, but... still, please do some research just in case."
"Yes."
Regardless of whether the man with his head down disappeared or not, the Duke lowered his head and muttered with his hand on his chin.
"That means... it's continuous self-harm."
The Duke knew that the Emperor did not wear gloves.
When was the bandage on his hand mentioned in a conversation with the Emperor? The Emperor was wary and turned his horse around. And today he came wearing gloves. The answer was obvious.
The wound did not heal.
Was it not recovered or was it continuous self-harm?
The Emperor was a 'hero'. The hero's fragment is what allows one to overcome all human limitations. In a situation where even life expectancy is included, there is no way resilience cannot be included.
So the answer was divided into two again.
Has the warrior's fragment lost its strength or is it a continuous self-harm? There was no way that the Emperor, who was stirring up the battlefield not long ago, had now lost his strength. Since the timing was not correct, this assumption is discarded.
So, had the hero's fragment lost its power only in terms of 'resilience'? At this point, the Duke blocked his intention to delve into and analyze in more detail.
Was there any need to dwell on things that have low possibilities? The most obvious answer was right here.
'Self-harm... Self-harm... Come to think of it, he pressed the back of his hand in certain situations.'
To be precise, he raised his fingertips and pressed gently, as if twisting. It was probably a wound that had been opened.
'What was the situation?'
When stress got worse, when his eyes become out of focus, and in situations where the 'dead people' may come to mind.
... Ah.
"A terrible human being."
He couldn't believe he was holding on to his hallucinations in such an ignorant way.
***
The first thing the Emperor noticed upon returning to the outdoor banquet hall was none other than a knife fight taking place on one side.
The green-haired man who took a step back and was blocked by the table lowered his head with a troubled expression. The dagger that crossed over it broke the candlestick decorating the table. Pow! A loud noise rang out and muffled screams erupted from everywhere.
The Emperor, seeing white hair flowing refreshingly in the center of this commotion, quietly raised his hand and covered his face.
"What is this..."
***
At that time, just 15 minutes ago, Stigma was looking at Deon Hardt, who was drinking his glass in silence.
Every time he took a sip of alcohol, his red eyes sunk with a look of reluctance, and as he took another sip, the emotions drained from his normally expressionless face.
He watched this whole process right in front of him and smiled softly.
'Of course. Would the person who made such a ridiculous request to the Emperor have any saneness?'
Although he was said to be subtly normal, it seems he was hiding this nature.
He learned something he didn't expect, but he didn't really care.
The reason he liked Deon Hardt in the first place was not because of his personality, but because of his actions, such as killing his family.
Perhaps even if Deon Hardt had been crazier than he was now or a more normal person than before, his fondness for him would still have remained the same.
'On the contrary, his true nature was revealed, and it was surprising that he was much calmer than I expected.'
By this point, it was time to open his mouth, but there was no answer.
In the end, Stigma couldn't wait and called Deon.
"Junior?"
"I don't know."
"... What?"
Bright red eyes were looking straight at him. Stigma frowned slightly, not understanding that attitude or words.
He's not drunk, so what? He felt something was out of place.
Hasn't the full nature been revealed yet?
"That's what my junior asked me to say at a business meeting after the Eight Year War..."
"I don't know."
A clear signal that questions related to this will not be accepted or answered, so do not ask.
"... So you don't know."
For some unknown reason, Deon Hardt was sober and refused to talk about this topic.
In that case, all he had to do was cloud his mind.
He gestured to the driver standing nearby and took back the alcohol he had left behind.
"Would you like to have a drink? There is some alcohol that I took from my subordinates."
"... Is that okay?"
"They are my subordinates, so what's the problem? Besides, this is the type of alcohol I have banned."
He gestured to a passing attendant, took a clean, empty glass, and placed it in his junior's hand.
It was said to be alcohol obtained with great difficulty from the North. Stigma's area of responsibility was the Southernmost part, so it must have been difficult to obtain it.
He chuckled as he casually poured the drink containing a subordinate's bloody tears into a glass. Deon, who was examining the glass with suspicious eyes, probably feeling quite anxious, quietly asked a question.
"If it's banned alcohol... does it contain drugs?"
"Something like that is on the banned list, but this isn't, so don't worry. It's just a little harsh. How could I give drugs to my junior?"
Do you like strong alcohol?
Stigma smiled seductively. Deon, who was staring at him, took a look at the glass and drank it straight away without hesitation.
... He just made him drink it a few more times, but it came to this.
He shook his head. The dagger struck the spot where his face was, making the sound of cutting through the air. Stigma clearly recognized this and let out an awkward laugh.
There was a clear hissing sound just now. He really tried to kill him.
"Hmm... Junior, why don't you quit at this point? If this continues, the banquet hall will be a complete mess."
"You said you were an enemy..."
"Actually, it was a lie. I'm not the enemy."
"They say they're the enemy... They say they're the enemy!"
This.
He took a step back and clicked his tongue softly.
'If I had known it would be like this, I wouldn't have lied like that.'