Chapter 830
Chapter 830
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 830
Chapter Title: The Tyrant for You
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When the emperor ejaculated inside Ophelia’s pussy, the absent knight commander returned. Trailing behind him was a line of naked prisoners in handcuffs and shackles.
A total of twenty. More than half were men. Despite being criminals, each one exuded an air of refinement. They were all nobles.
Onyx’s face hardened. He was quick on the uptake.
“Two counts, four viscounts, seven barons, and even their wives. Can you guess why they’ve become criminals?”
“…I can only surmise that they’ve committed grave sins, Your Majesty.”
“This dawn, an assassin came for me. Over thirty of them, a whole assassin guild. Their name… hmm. Too insignificant to remember. Anyway, the prime minister called it a famous guild, and these scum hired them.”
“Traitors to the crown, then.”
“Indeed. Rebels. I’ve already exterminated their families. I meant to draw and quarter them, but I’ve been doing too much of that lately, so I opted for dismemberment instead.”
“…You had them boiled alive, Your Majesty?”
“Yes. And fed their corpses to the prisoners. Saves on food costs. Kill one prisoner, feed the body to the others—efficiency improved. That idiot prime minister never thought of such a brilliant idea. Clever in all the wrong ways.”
“……”
Onyx was at a loss for words. The tyrant spoke so casually of discarding human decency that he scarcely seemed human. Even demons weren’t this cruel. Onyx was grateful for his long robe—it hid his trembling legs.
“Black mage. Resources are right in front of you. Dispel the great witch’s curse.”
“…Yes, Your Majesty.”
Onyx extended his hand toward the prisoners. A dark magic circle unfurled before him, drawing red energy from their bodies—their life force.
“Gaaaaaaahhh!”
The prisoners screamed in agony. Having one’s life force stolen by black magic brought excruciating pain.
“Eugene Bellacarossss!!”
One man shouted the emperor’s name with pure hatred. He charged at the emperor like a madman. The knight drew his sword but didn’t swing—the emperor’s telekinesis had subdued him.
“Do you want to leave a curse for me too? I’ll hear it. Speak. I’ll score how original it is.”
“You will die! The masses will drag you from the palace, and the demon gods will hurl you into hell! You’ll burn eternally in hellfire! Filial traitor who killed your father! Every soul you’ve slain will become vengeful spirits and kill you in hell!! Even in death, I curse you!!”
The prisoner’s curse was desperate. Though not magical, the rage and hatred sent chills down the spine.
Onyx glanced at the emperor, gauging his reaction. The emperor remained impassive. Without a flicker of emotion, he grabbed Princess Ophelia’s hair and shoved his thick cock into her small mouth. Tears streamed down her face as she sucked it.
“Sixty points. Cliché. For reference, the one who got a hundred cursed me to become a eunuch. The way he glared at my crotch… that was chilling. First time I’d seen such a freak.”
The prisoner collapsed. His body shriveled. Above Onyx’s hand, the red energy coalesced and floated.
“Is that the life force?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. If left like this, it’ll dissipate, so I’ll proceed with the dispelling right away.”
“Do it. Can life force be stored?”
“With magic stones and magic tools, yes, Your Majesty.”
“I see.”
Onyx began the dispelling ritual using black magic, gradually eroding the great witch’s soul bound to the curse.
Thirty minutes passed.
The dispelling succeeded—but only about 3% of it. Even that left Onyx drenched in sweat.
“Y-Your Majesty. Forgive me, but this is the limit of my ability.”
“Your limit?”
“N-No, don’t misunderstand. It’s just today’s limit. Tomorrow, once I recover my stamina, I’ll continue the dispelling.”
“I’m not blaming you. I’m quite satisfied with your competence.”
The emperor seemed genuine. He came in the princess’s mouth and rose from his seat.
“Black mage. Kneel before the throne.”
Onyx obeyed.
“What’s your name?”
“Onyx, Your Majesty.”
“No family name?”
“…I had one, but I discarded it.”
Onyx was from a fallen noble house. The old name flashed in his mind, then vanished.
“I grant you the title of count, land, and a castle. Your family name shall be…”
The emperor peered at Onyx. He was old and bald.
“Baldmore. Count Onyx Baldmore. This is an informal investiture. Hold a feast in your territory if you wish.”
“Your grace overwhelms me!”
Onyx’s heart pounded. He was a noble now. Black mages would rally around him. Memories of scorn, discrimination, and hatred for being a black mage surfaced and faded. Tears welled in his eyes.
“Even informal, some ceremony is needed. I’m in a good mood, so I’ll oblige. Don’t move.”
The emperor extended his hand. A black longsword, Arondight, flew to him. He tapped Onyx’s head and shoulders with it.
Onyx nearly blurted, This is a knighting ceremony, but kept silent.
“Ah, something else… I forget. The prime minister will handle it.”
The emperor turned.
“Tower Lord. Your face is full of discontent. Speak.”
“…Your Majesty. Black mages are filthy scum. I won’t stop using them, but titles? No. Use them as slaves instead!”
“So, you dislike me granting a black mage a title.”
Flinch!
Roderick shuddered. No—this wasn’t right. He’d lost his mind momentarily from the unbelievable sight.
“Y-Your Majesty! Mercy! Forgive me! I lost my senses for a mo—”
Slice!
Roderick’s head rolled. The headless body sprayed blood and crumpled.
“Mages.”
“…Y-Yes, Your Majesty… Your command…?”
The tower mages trembled. They bowed, praying their heads stayed attached.
“One month. Elect a new tower lord. Allowing riffraff into the royal mages insults me—I’ll eradicate the tower.”
“We obey Your Majesty…!”
“Out. Leave the corpse.”
The mages backed away silently and fled the Great Hall.
The emperor addressed Onyx.
“Count Baldmore. I have several orders for you.”
“Command me, Your Majesty.”
“First… Black mages turn corpses and souls into undead, right? Turn this one into a lich. As a former tower lord, he’ll be useful.”
Onyx’s eyes quivered at Roderick’s severed head. Had he slipped even slightly today, it would’ve been his head rolling.
“…I know the method, but it requires at least a year and ten thousand units of life force.”
“Not much. Second order: Build a camp next to your territory. I’ll fund it—make it as large as possible.”
“…What kind of camp, Your Majesty?”
“A camp is a camp—what more meaning? …No, maybe call it a ranch?”
“A ranch… For subhumans, perhaps?”
“All subhumans, including humans. They’re resources. Black magic needs life force, doesn’t it? Use them as needed. I’ll supply magic stones—store life force in them.”
Onyx felt cold sweat trickle down his back.
“Breed humans there. Life force depletes, so replenish it.”
“…Treat humans like livestock, Your Majesty? Humans aren’t livestock.”
“Treat them like livestock, and they are. Doesn’t even a black mage know that? Also, seek out gems and send them to me.”
“Gems? Are there mines in my territory?”
“Sometimes mutants appear among humans. Beautiful despite ugly parents. Send me those gems. Grant their wishes, within reason.”
“…If the gem wants her parents freed?”
“Grant it, as I said.”
“I’ll remember.”
“I trust you’ll manage well, but handle the stallions carefully.”
“…Stallions mean handsome men, Your Majesty?”
“Quick on the uptake. Yes. Bad stock needs good seed, right? Replace stallions periodically.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The emperor sat on the throne. Princess Ophelia crawled toward him again. He kicked her away. She rolled, coughing. A distant maid rushed over with a potion.
The emperor beckoned to the bed. A blonde woman rose and approached. Her short hair swayed with each step.
Raflea Dior Harmel. Third empress and princess of Harmel Kingdom, land of the twin-winged race. Her hidden wings were why no wings showed—adult twin-winged could conceal them.
“Ahh… Your Majesty… Your Majesty…”
Raflea knelt. He extended his foot; she kissed the instep and rubbed her pussy against his toes, masturbating.
“Ahng! Ang! Aaang! Haang!”
“Pleasant to the ears. Keep moaning.”
Her voice was exquisite. No instrument could compare.
Twin-winged women often had such voices.
The emperor eyed her chest. A-cup. No, A-minus. Disappointingly small.
“Count Baldmore. I hear black mages make chimeras. Can you make humans? Cloning humans… that’d be incredible.”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty. Creating life is the domain of gods. Chimeras are closer to undead.”
“Pity.”
“…Do you seek immortality, Your Majesty? Is that why you summoned our black mage guild to the palace…?”
“No interest. More important matters.”
The emperor’s aura shifted.
He’d been nonchalant until now. Even killing the tower lord hadn’t been this serious.
How vital could it be? Onyx’s lips dried.
“Make a breast enlargement potion.”
“…Breast enlargement…? What is that, Your Majesty?”
“Grows women’s breasts. Potion or otherwise—find a natural way to enlarge breasts. Crucial. Bring implants or surgery, and you die by my hand.”
“I-I’ll remember.”
“Prioritize over lich-making. You won’t say it’s impossible?”
“It’s possible. Black magic began pursuing immortality. Can’t create life, but mutate it. Limit to breasts… Yes, a potion should work.”
“You’re a true treasure of the empire. Name a reward. One wish, unless it’s something absurd like beautiful women.”
“…Your Majesty. A mage tower… for black mages in my territory.”
“Granted.”
“Your grace overwhelms me!!”
???
Two months passed since accepting black mages.
Nobles hearing rumors of my weakness sent assassins daily, attempted poisonings. Most assassins were caught by knights before entering the palace. Few reached my bedroom—and even then, they failed.
Poisonings only killed unlucky slave girls. The eleventh dancer-assassin poisoned me, but the Holy Grail’s power neutralized the deadly toxin. At worst, a brief headache or dip in condition.
When poison failed, female assassins switched to blades. Startling at first, but I adapted. The trick: check throat, pussy, and ass for daggers. Occasional cyborg freaks, but rare and not very threatening.
I held banquets every day.
Administrative duties? Why would I bother? The prime minister handles it. If he embezzles, exterminate his house and appoint a new one.
When banquets bored me, I’d leave the palace and fuck commoners.
I left the great witch’s curse untreated on purpose—to lure out nobles bold enough to rebel at the rumor of my weakness.
Targeting the north, but it stayed quiet. Taxes came promptly. Just couldn’t meet that vaunted northern grand duke.
“Your Majesty!”
The Great Hall doors burst open. General Luteon and knights stormed in.
I’d been toying with Ophelia. Narrowing my eyes, I glared at Luteon.
“…Rebellion?”
Always composed, Luteon flushed with excitement, raising his voice.
“Invasion! Harmel Kingdom’s 300,000-strong army marches on the empire!”