Chapter 831
Chapter 831
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 831
Chapter Title: The Tyrant for You
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“Your Majesty!”
The Great Hall doors flew open as Grand General Lutheon and the Royal Guard came charging in.
I had been toying with Ophelia as usual, but now I narrowed my eyes at Lutheon.
“...A rebellion?”
Lutheon, who always kept his cool, flushed red with excitement and raised his voice.
“They’re invading! Harmel Kingdom’s army of 300,000 is marching on the Empire!”
The people in the Great Hall, lost in pleasure and writhing, snapped awake in panic. The Prime Minister came rushing in behind Lutheon, panting. He began clearing the hall—scattering the dancers, sending the beauties back to their palaces, and chasing out the court musicians.
I clicked my tongue briefly but didn’t stop him. I knew full well how serious the situation was.
The maids approached. They usually wore plain dresses, but on my orders, they were all dressed in maid outfits—far more luxurious and ornate than those of the servant girls. It was to my taste. The maids dressed me as I groped their bodies.
I slipped my hands under their skirts and into their bodices. Soft and warm. A woman’s scent always soothed my mind and body.
Still, it was a shame.
...Their breasts are small. The women in this world all have small breasts on average.
This was a romance fantasy world, after all. Most women were A-cups. Big-breasted beauties were rare exceptions.
...The Pleasure Potion needs to be finished soon.
I glanced down at Lutheon, bowed before the throne. His excited face had returned to its usual calm.
“Grand General. Is the report that Harmel’s 300,000-strong army is marching on the Empire true?”
“It comes from our spies, Your Majesty. I’ve verified the intelligence myself several times. It is accurate.”
The Grand General had never lied to me once. This time wouldn’t be any different. No one in their right mind would fabricate news of that magnitude.
“Harmel, huh...”
My gaze drifted to the bed. Naked royals and maids were huddled there. The Prime Minister couldn’t touch the royals. Among them was the Third Empress, Laflea Dior Harmel—princess of Harmel.
Harmel was the land of the Twin-Winged Folk. Humans born with wings from birth. They were the Twin-Winged.
“They’ll come flying in.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. They’re advancing on the capital through the skies. They’ll arrive tomorrow or the day after.”
“And their target is me, of course.”
Marching straight for the capital without a declaration of war meant they planned to kill me and end the war swiftly. The longer the war dragged on, the worse it would be for Harmel Kingdom—that much was certain.
This was a war started unilaterally without envoys or declaration. They’d face some condemnation later, but Harmel had the justification. I was a tyrant who had defiled their princess, the Third Empress, and treated her like a slave.
“Harmel’s king must have obtained intelligence on Your Majesty’s affliction with the Great Witch’s curse and mobilized his forces with careful planning.”
“Prime Minister, you’re right. It’s impossible to raise 300,000 troops on a whim without preparation. They’ve likely been readying for months and set out today.”
“There are reports that Harmel’s king is leading the army himself.”
Lutheon added. Not surprising. Harmel’s king wasn’t quite a tyrant, but he was infamous for his fierce temper. His hobby was monster hunting, after all.
“Your Majesty, the capital’s forces alone cannot hold against 300,000. Especially not against Harmel’s Twin-Winged—they render the walls meaningless.”
The Twin-Winged flew through the skies. Arrows from above, thrown spears, dropped boulders—that was headache enough, but mix in mages and it was a catastrophe.
“Your Majesty, issue the summons across the Empire.”
“Prime Minister, even if I did, could reinforcements arrive in two days?”
I could issue the summons via magic, no problem. But nobles scattered across the Empire needed time to assemble their troops and reach the capital. Two days? Impossible. At least a month.
“...If we rely on the capital’s barriers until reinforcements arrive... wouldn’t it be possible?”
“Prime Minister, the barriers aren’t invincible. Even at full strength, they can’t hold 300,000.”
The Grand General countered. He was right, so the Prime Minister couldn’t argue.
“Your Majesty, we have no choice. Send an envoy to Harmel’s king. Calm them through diplomacy and force a retreat.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Prime Minister.”
“Y-Your Majesty?”
“Harmel raised 300,000 troops. You think they’ll turn back because of an envoy?”
“Th-the Foreign Minister is highly capable. Harmel’s king wants to end this peacefully with minimal losses too.”
“Sure. They have demands, so they raised an army. Give in to a few, and they’ll be satisfied and retreat. First money, then human slaves, Empire territory, and finally my head. Do you think I should hand my head to Harmel, Prime Minister?”
“H-how could I—! No, Your Majesty! You’ve misunderstood!”
The Prime Minister bowed low, sweating profusely. He was competent but overly timid.
“I know that’s not what you meant. Can’t you even recognize a joke, Prime Minister?”
“This servant is lacking and failed to grasp Your Majesty’s intent. Forgive me...”
“Harmel’s king has simple goals. Kill me and put his grandson on the Empire’s throne.”
No one—not the Prime Minister, Lutheon, or any noble—denied it. They all thought the same.
“Grand General.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“No summons. We’ll meet Harmel’s army with the capital’s soldiers alone.”
“...But Your Majesty, we have fewer than 30,000. Even conscripting capital citizens, we can’t exceed 100,000.”
“The capital has me. Be it 300,000 or a million, they won’t breach it as long as I’m here.”
“Do you intend to fight outside the capital?”
“Yes.”
Fighting around the capital would cause massive damage. Battle outside minimized property loss.
“I shall obey your command.”
“And execute the Seventh Prince, Shihabram Bellakaros.”
The male royals were locked in the underground dungeons—no torture, just black bread for meals. They were hostages to control the empresses. The empresses didn’t dare act out because of their children. They loved them, sure, but if I fell, one of the princes had a shot at the throne.
“No! Please, no, Your Majesty!”
The Third Empress, Laflea, who had been standing apart, rushed toward the throne but was grabbed by the Royal Guard. She dropped to her knees and pleaded with me.
“I-I’ll do anything! Spare Shihabram—please, spare him! He’s your brother, Your Majesty!”
“I have no brothers.”
I rose from the throne and approached Laflea, grabbing her by the hair.
“And you fucking bitch. Don’t you grasp the situation? Your father’s leading 300,000 soldiers to kill me. I’d love to boil you alive too, but I’m keeping you around because I like your pussy and your voice.”
“Hic... Y-Your Majesty...”
“Grand General. Cut off Shihabram’s head and display it at the palace’s highest point for the sky vermin to see clearly.”
“As you command.”
Tears streamed from Laflea’s eyes—pitiful enough to stir pity in any onlooker. But I had no intention of mercy.
“You’ll be fucked by me until Harmel’s king arrives.”
“Ah... Aaaah...”
“Heh. Your crying’s pleasant too.”
“Your Majesty.”
Someone called me. I turned. A handsome man with long blue hair tied back stood there. His golden eyes gazed at me calmly, mysteriously.
Auden Kibizlife. Roderick’s successor as Magic Tower Lord and the original story’s sub-male lead. Becoming Tower Lord in his twenties meant his magical talent was extraordinary.
I’d planned to kill him at first, but his competence earned him a pass. He behaved well too. Knowing I didn’t care for him, he’d offered up the Tower’s beautiful sorceresses.
“What is it, Tower Lord? If it’s worthless drivel, I’ll gouge out your eyes.”
“I have a good idea to share. Instead of killing the Seventh Prince, torture him and let Harmel’s king hear his agonized screams. The king is famous for cherishing family... He’ll weep blood seeing his grandson writhe in pain.”
“Not bad. Do it. But you handle the torture personally. If his screams don’t satisfy, you’ll scream in his place.”
“...Entrust it to me.”
Auden bowed.
I could guess his thinking. Using torture as an excuse to spare the prince.
I know from the original story he’s rotten inside. A cunning bastard who screws over the protagonist subtly.
If I died or lost, the Seventh Prince would take the throne, changing the Empire. With no other children, the Third Empress wanted him spared under any pretext.
“Ah... Aaaah...”
Laflea just wept. I dropped my pants and fucked her pussy right there in front of everyone.
“Emperor! You who slew my kin and defiled my bloodline! You’re worse than a pig! I will save my captured daughter and punish you in the gods’ stead! People of the Empire! Soldiers of the Empire! Lay down your arms! My sole target is the tyrant who ruins the world! I will save you all!”
The voice of Harmel’s king, Kircong Dior Harmel, boomed across the field.
I stood atop the palanquin, looking up at the sky. In my left hand, I gripped Laflea—Kircong’s daughter—by the hair. She hung limp, utterly spent. Her body was covered in my cum. I’d fucked her nonstop for two days straight.
“Quite the sight.”
The sky was filled with 300,000 troops. All gripped spears, flapping their single pair of wings menacingly as they glared down.
On the ground, the Empire’s army numbered just 30,000. Even against equal numbers, flying enemies were a massive disadvantage—let alone a tenth their size.
“Your Majesty, the soldiers are panicking.”
Grand General Lutheon reported. I knew without him saying. I could hear the murmurs of fear from hopeless troops.
I ignored him, staring at the sky. Lutheon spoke again.
“Your Majesty, morale is plummeting. The battle hasn’t even begun, and it may end before it starts. Please, deliver a rallying speech to boost their spirits.”
“...”
I ignored him again.
I was under the Great Witch’s curse, and 300,000 enemies had flown here to kill me.
Objectively, my situation was dire. And dire straits were perfect for betrayal.
I awaited Lutheon’s betrayal. Him and his 30,000 turning blades and spears on me.
“Gaaahhh! Aaaahhh! Graaah! F-Father...! Save me, save your son! Gaaahhh!”
The Seventh Prince’s screams echoed from the palace. Agonized wails spread everywhere. Tower Lord Auden was doing good work.
“You bastard!!!”
Kircong roared in fury. He hurled his spear at me. I raised the hair in my left hand, shoving Laflea in front as a shield.
Kircong darted like a bolt of light, snatching the spear midair. Blood dripped from his thick, large hand.
“Emperor! You bastard!! Is that how a ruler acts? You’re unfit to rule! No—you’re not even a man!”
In truth, I hadn’t planned to let Laflea die. If the spear got close, I’d have caught it with telekinesis. Why would I destroy my own fucktoy? It was just provocation.
“Soldiers of the Emperor! Did you see that? Your lord uses a woman as a shield—a coward! Do you truly believe he deserves to stand above you!?”