The Emperor Slayer (1)
Flor was like an air purifier for the orphanage—just having her around made the whole atmosphere brighter. The kind of kid who'd turn the other cheek if slapped, or give away everything she had the moment you looked away until nothing was left. In the presence of this living incarnation of divinity, every sinner repented their wrongs. And yet, there was one human plotting crimes right in front of her.
"Garden unnie, you look like the one with the darkest expression here. Is something bothering you?"
"That's 'cause the adults with smiling faces are the ones eating on my dime—no worries for them. I'm the one footing the bill, so I'm full of cares."
"Should the kids go out and work? Even simple jobs—if we all pitch in, it'd add up to a decent amount!"
"Joking. Just joking. You kids studying hard is the best way to help me out."
My dark expression had nothing to do with money. It was because I'd stolen Flor's fate, and the chain reaction would hit someone hard. The emperor's fate was nagging at me.
The original story's male lead, emperor-to-be, and swordmaster Leonhardt gets saved by the deep love of the original female lead and saintess, Flor. But since I'd swiped her and was raising her here, that wasn't happening anymore. No guarantee shoving her next to the emperor like some forced princess game carry would play out the same.
'If the emperor loses it, the whole empire suffers.'
So, prevention time. Not curing the madness, but stopping it before it starts.
Patricidal emperor. Man possessed by evil spirits. Devil who slew his own father. The biggest trigger for the emperor's madness? Killing his father himself and facing endless blame from the world.
'Then steal the emperor who needs killing.'
In the original, Leonhardt was currently crown prince. Probably getting egged on from all sides to stop his tyrant dad. The coup wasn't far off.
'But escaping the palace unscathed? Not with average skills.'
This wasn't about grabbing a pebble from the palace garden. Assassinate the empire's sun and slip out undetected. The palace had court mages, knight orders—everything you'd expect.
Nothing like the small-fry western nobles I'd crushed so far.
No smashing in yelling from the front like before. This was a different league.
'My rogue skills are still lacking.'
Duration: 30 seconds. Cooldown: 6 hours.
A sprint down the palace's endless corridors? One shot, done.
Invalidates detection below intermediate level.
Hit by a court mage or artifact scan? Busted instantly.
Max 1 clone. Duration: 20 seconds. Cooldown: 9 hours.
Way too short to fool the palace knight order's numbers.
Each skill was useful on its own. Handy for dodging most crises in average spots. But breaching the palace's tight security, assassinating the emperor, and sauntering out? Laughably inadequate.
'Boost my own specs or grind Rogue Master skills—which first?'
I headed down to the basement alone, locked the door, and addressed the ring—Rogue Master's Legacy.
"Palace heist incoming. Cough up secret moves, ultimate skills, gear—whatever you've got."
The ring responded promptly.
A true Rogue Master treats the palace like their own home—popping in and out!
Back when Rogue Master was thriving, the empire didn't exist—no palace either!
To claim a true Rogue Master's secret technique, acquire her other legacy artifacts.
Find the thieves guild lurking in the empire's shadows and retrieve another Rogue Master legacy.
Reward: ???
Thieves guild, huh. Never thought to check them out since I wasn't planning to team up.
"The thieves guild has a Rogue Master legacy?"
Yes. I can detect the location and status of other legacies.
"Why tell me now?"
You didn't ask.
"Ha. Who's got that legacy? Kill 'em or steal it?"
The other Rogue Master legacy lies dormant, awaiting a worthy successor.
"Needs qualification?"
I'd assumed anyone finding it could claim it since mine activated easy.
"Where's it at, then?"
Inside the thieves guild in Elbita, the empire's heart.
A thieves guild smack in the capital? Ridiculous spot, but it fit this rotten empire. Probably in bed with some high noble.
A day later, no time to waste—I headed straight to the capital. Fake ID and disguised face in tow.
Disguise Lv1 just blurred features. Lv2 was proper disguise territory. Lv3 let me tweak body shape and voice too.
Next level? Probably swap genders freely. After that? Maybe cats, dogs. Birds like crows or sparrows? Skydive infiltration anywhere.
'Thieves guild's hidden well. Not obvious to outsiders.'
I scoured the city for clues while wandering. No dice—they weren't that blatant, even with noble ties.
'Fastest way's simple.'
Don't find the thieves guild—make them find me.
I started picking pockets.
Guards or thieves first?
"Hey, miss. Chat with us?"
"Back alley. Follow."
Predictable. Thieves beat guards— I stole clean, unseen.
"What's up? I'm a fine citizen."
"Want your fake ID back? Come quietly."
I let their grubby hands into my pocket on purpose. Played the distraught victim and followed the uncles to the alley.
"Who gave permission for street pickpocketing?"
"Handkerchiefs, pens, coins—quite the haul."
"You guys the petty thieves guild in Elbita?"
Calling them petty soured their faces.
"Think we won't hit a girl? Underestimating us."
"One more peep from that mouth—we'll pulp you."
"What else you call petty thieves if not petty?"
Fist flew as warned. Pathetically slow—I could've dozed and yawned.
Grabbed it, twisted arm, slammed him down.
"Don't rush. You'll hurt, I'll get annoyed."
Skill gap too wide—the other two held back after the first flop.
"Looking for the thieves guild on purpose? Why?"
"Know our standing here—you'd back off."
"What's that?"
"Nobles buy info from us."
"Yeah! Touch us without backup? Bad idea."
"Not pets—just replaceable errand boys."
Perfect alignment keeps them safe. But disposable anytime. Low-tier small fry.
"Got the gist. Your level."
No point yapping—gave options.
"Spill hideout after torture? Or just spill?"
Crown Prince Leonhardt, as an imperial knight, patrolled the capital.
What sense in the most protected prince patrolling streets? He was one of the empire's strongest swordsmen, swordmaster in sight—at just fifteen.
That young age meant genius of geniuses. Too green for the throne's burdens, yet environment forced his hand—unlucky prince.
Leonhardt pried open a back-alley sewer lid and descended. The stench deterred normals—this led to the thieves guild.
Why visit? Plotting treason in the palace was suicide. Same risk anywhere, but minimized detection.
Letters demanding his resolve went via thieves guild indirectly.
'What's the racket?'
Today, the guild was unusually rowdy. Noisy visitor.
"Your throwing sucks!"
"Mana-controlling darts? Cheat!"
"Jealous? Do it yourself!"
Some contest going on.