Chapter 35
An urgent report arrived for the emperor. “Kraaaagh!”
Thickly furred Juan’s arm rolled across the floor, his scream echoing through the throne room. He writhed on the ground, howling in a pitch too shrill for his massive frame, blood spraying everywhere with every convulsion.
The match was decided in a single stroke. The moment I spotted Juan charging, I drew my sword and sliced clean through the hand gripping his blade. It was a battōjutsu draw—a technique rarely seen in the Empire.
The reason for severing his arm was simple. Among the citizens begging to be let into the castle as monsters closed in, Juan had done the exact same to one of them.
I gazed down at him impassively. The nobles couldn’t hide their shock at the scene. They’d never dreamed the Hero would lop off someone’s arm right in front of the emperor.
Marian had collapsed to the floor, trembling uncontrollably.
Pathetic. You told me to slice myself open without a second thought.
I sneered inwardly at the nobles’ reactions and turned to the emperor. Crown Prince Aaron looked pale with terror, but the emperor stared at Juan with an expression as cold and detached as my own.
Growing bored of the thrashing, the emperor gave a curt nod, and soldiers rushed in to drag Juan away.
“Indeed, quite the entertainment. Who will step forward next?”
No one moved at the emperor’s words. The Empire wasn’t short on talent, but no sane, skilled fighter would risk themselves just to gawk at the Hero.
“…We’ve shown some embarrassing faces today, Hero.”
Seeing no response, even the emperor looked a touch awkward. His gaze flicked to his son Aaron, but the crown prince, having witnessed Juan’s fate, avoided his father’s eyes.
“Captain of the Imperial Guard.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Will you face the Hero?”
“I shall obey your command.”
The only armored man in the throne room replied without hesitation. Captain of the Imperial Guard, Steven. He was one of the Empire’s top swordsmen—not someone even I could take lightly.
…He’s wearing that armor.
Steven, the emperor’s favorite, always wore the custom suit bestowed upon him. Infused with the Magic Tower’s finest enchantments, it shrugged off most spells and blades alike. And Steven was smart enough to use it to full effect, making him a real pain.
I could win if I had to… but.
I could beat him in a fight, sure, but in my current pristine state, it’d be a slog. Besides, the emperor only cared if my body was truly immortal, so Steven would focus on wounding me.
“Hero, are you ready?”
“…Shouldn’t he take off the armor for a fair fight?”
I addressed Steven as he advanced, sword in hand.
“With your immortal body, I wouldn’t call it unfair.”
Damn. A tough customer, as expected.
I hadn’t lied—wounds weren’t an issue. But something from my first timeline stirred: a stubborn refusal to let the emperor see my regeneration.
“Fine. Let’s do this!”
I replied to the captain and swung at him immediately. It was nearly a sneak attack, but he raised his armored arm and blocked my blade effortlessly.
Clang! The metallic clash rang through the hall. Steven drew his sword and slashed back. I arched my back to dodge, then—posture crumbling—swung low at his knee in the same motion.
No matter how much gold the emperor poured into that armor, it had weak points. The joints were beyond even the Magic Tower’s mad old coots. My blade tip targeted one precisely.
“Not a chance!”
Steven lifted his leg, blocking with his shin. My sword bounced harmlessly again. I leaped back, creating distance, and shot the emperor an incredulous look.
Shouldn’t armor like that go to the Hero, not some guard?
Steven’s suit nullified most pain and was lightened with spells—I wanted it bad. But in my previous life, the emperor never gave it to me. The undying Hero was less valuable than his personal lifesaver.
Of course, it wasn’t invincible. Ironically, Aaron had exposed its flaw: Steven died pierced by the massive ballista Aaron invented.
If only I had a blunt weapon…
I dodged Steven’s relentless strikes, racking my brain. I wasn’t picky about weapons—a club would do the trick.
“You’re slippery.”
Frustrated at my evasions, Steven growled. I shrugged, glancing at the emperor. He was visibly itching to see if my immortality was real, masking his impatience poorly.
Dragging this out to annoy him wasn’t bad, but I had another play. No blunts, but ways to drop Steven existed.
It’ll strain me, though…
“Round two, then.”
I readjusted my grip and faced him. The sword I’d taken from that fool Peros might not hold up, but it could handle one use of that technique.
“Your Majesty! Urgent dispatch!”
As I lunged, the throne room doors burst open. A messenger rushed in, shouting.
“…What is it?”
The emperor scowled at the interruption.
The messenger bowed hastily and reported breathlessly.
“Refugees are approaching Butler Territory in large numbers. Witnesses say a massive monster horde has appeared beyond the border.”
The emperor frowned, glancing at me with regret. Curious about my power, but judging the situation dire, he addressed the assembled ministers sternly.
“Discuss how to proceed.”
**
“Do we really need to take in refugees? The Empire’s safety comes first.”
“We must show the dignity of a great power. And if we crush the monsters decisively, every kingdom will recognize our true might.”
“Who cares about those petty kingdoms? Monsters are no threat anyway.”
The nobles bickered, voicing their opinions. Each word laid bare the Empire’s arrogance.
Not all were fools, but that was the prevailing attitude.
They treat the Demon King’s army like dog chow.
I sighed at their overconfidence. They believed the Empire could handle the Demon King’s forces alone, viewing the crisis through rose-tinted glasses. My head throbbed.
Worse, the timeline had shifted. Butler Territory’s trouble should’ve come later. With no interactions on my end since regressing, the change felt off.
“For Butler Territory, Countess Hazel de Butler’s input matters most.”
A fat noble leered at Hazel’s curves as he spoke. Eyes turned to her predictably.
Under every gaze in the room, Hazel hid behind her fan, stammering.
“I-I think I should… return to the territory first… and assess the s-situation. As for the refugees… I’ll c-consult with my subordinates and d-decide.”
Some nobles swallowed hard at her flustered response. Unbefitting a territory lord, but no one cared.
The Empire’s nobles were fixated on her massive breasts jiggling with every tense word.