"Aaron, what if I just headed straight to the Imperial Palace and took out this new Emperor?"
Nanoda's words came out of nowhere. Aaron, who had been mid-sip of his coffee, nearly spat it all over the table.
"Cough, cough... That doesn't sound like you at all. Aren't you the one pushing for peaceful coexistence with humans? If you kill him, you'd make yourself humanity's enemy number one." He forced the coffee back down his throat and said,
"I want to cut the problem off at the source. And as long as no one finds out I was the one who did it, it should be fine — deal with the witnesses while I'm at it..."
As she spoke, Nanoda idly toyed with her broken horn.
"Ha. So you're just sick of the hassle. I see."
Aaron mulled it over for a moment before offering his view.
"Setting aside whether you could even make it out of the Imperial City in one piece — even if the assassination succeeded, the power vacuum across the Northern territories would only get messier. I don't think you need to take that risk. Whatever comes at us, we deal with it. After all, it's not Gaderia marching on the Imperial City — it's them who'd be coming onto our territory."
"Surprisingly conservative," Nanoda said, with a slight curl of her lip.
"I've always been the steady type. And with Gaderia's strength as it stands now, we have no reason to fear a war."
Aaron rubbed his bald head with a grin.
"Honestly? I don't like war. But if killing the one person at the top would put an end to a future conflict, I'd do it — I've got enough blood on my hands already. A little more wouldn't change anything."
To kill for protection is to preserve life; to sever karma is not to sever the man.
As if a distant memory had drifted back to her, Nanoda's gaze grew briefly unfocused.
"Consider it a personal request from me. There's really no need to take that risk. You've already done more than enough for Gaderia. Leave what remains to Gaderia — and to your Demon companions."
"...All right."
---
Northern Empire, Imperial Capital. Inside a noble's manor.
"Mmph... mmm... mmmph..."
A finely dressed woman in revealing clothes and a small child with terror written across his face had been bound to chairs in the parlor, their mouths stuffed with cloth — leaving them nothing but muffled whimpers.
Wolf sat at the head of the table, wiping a knife and fork with a silk cloth. He cut into a medium-rare steak, forked a piece into his mouth, and chewed with unhurried, practiced elegance.
"Not bad."
He wore no mask today. The scar splitting his face was ugly and raw.
Outside the window, the sun was going down. A wash of crimson light fell across the dining table in one long, burning streak.
Click.
The front door swung open. A portly, curly-haired nobleman stepped inside — and froze the moment he took in the scene before him.
"Good evening, my lord Earl. I hope you don't mind that I helped myself to one of your steaks."
Wolf dabbed the corner of his mouth with the cloth and smiled.
"What — what is the meaning of this? Duke Wolf... my lord?"
The Earl's complexion had turned poor. Sweat beaded at his temple as he cautiously ventured the question.
"It's quite simple. The new Emperor has recently decided to mobilize the military for a campaign. He requires you to surrender all your assets — to be confiscated as war funds."
"For the sake of your wife and child, I'd advise you to agree. Oh, and one more thing — I've already taken care of every guard in this manor. No one is going to come and interrupt us."
Wolf explained this without the slightest hurry.
Cursing the man as a lunatic in his head, the Earl forced out an awkward smile.
"Surely you must be joking, my lord. How much would it cost for you to simply... leave?"
"Do you honestly think I'm that shallow? What I find far more interesting than your money is your reaction."
Wolf rose from his seat and began walking toward the Earl — slow, deliberate.
"Hey — what do you think you're doing? Don't come any closer..."
The Earl snatched up a large vase from beside the door, ready to smash it over Wolf's head if he kept advancing.
"Tell you what — let's play a game. Between your own life and the lives of your wife and child, which do you choose?"
Before the Earl could even register what had happened, Wolf was already standing directly in front of him — a specter that had simply materialized.
One hand pressed down on the vase, pinning it in place. A fork pressed against the Earl's throat.
"You live, or they do? Just say the word. One sentence."
The Earl froze. His legs were shaking. He looked at his wife and child — bound to their chairs, eyes wide with panic, silently begging — and his throat moved as he swallowed.
"I... I want to live. My wife and child — you can have them."
At the moment it counted most, this man who had always been so slippery and cunning chose to beg for his own skin.
Wolf heard the answer — and burst into laughter, hands flying to cover his face.
"Hahahaha! Absolutely delightful. Can I consider that a betrayal of your wife and child? What a wonderfully telling response."
At the same moment, he thrust the fork forward.
Clang. It lodged in the wall, a hair's breadth from the Earl's skull.
The portly Earl broke out in a cold sweat, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.
Wolf released the hand pinning him, turned, and strode straight out through the door — leaving only a single parting line.
"Remember to submit those war funds. Otherwise I'll be paying you another visit — as a reminder."
Watching Wolf go, the Earl let out a long breath. His legs gave way beneath him and he sank down to the floor.
"...What an utterly bizarre man."
He lay there on the ground for quite a while before finally hauling himself up to untie the ropes binding his wife and child.
The moment she was free, the child burst into tears.
Crack.
A sharp slap rang out through the crying.
It was the wife. What the Earl had chosen in that moment had infuriated her. This man who had always sworn he would stand by her side forever — he had, when it mattered, offered to hand her and their child away without a second thought.
The Earl, one cheek already swelling red, lowered his head and said nothing.
The woman buried her face in her hands and wept, just as the child was weeping.
Outside the window, Wolf had never actually left.
He had stayed, watching from the shadows — and now a wide, satisfied grin spread across his face.
He loved betrayal. He loved playing with human hearts.
It wasn't born of malice, exactly. It was simply something he wanted to do.
Or perhaps, more accurately — he was malice itself.
Scenes like the one in that Earl's household played out across the Imperial Capital every day. Occasionally a stubborn noble would end up dead at Wolf's hands. And Wolf himself, roaming freely through the city, ran into assassination attempts more than once — though he walked away from every single one without a scratch, carrying on as though nothing had happened, making his unhurried rounds to visit the Capital's nobles one by one.
After roughly two months, the nobles of the Imperial Capital — with remarkable and entirely uniform consensus — began donating their assets to the treasury, loudly declaring their full support for the new Emperor's policies.
Behind the scenes, however, certain nobles were quietly filing reports to the Emperor, accusing Duke Wolf of his conduct.
Inside the Imperial Palace...
The young Emperor looked over the report laid before him by his shadow guards. The tension that had held his expression rigid for so long finally eased — the corners of his mouth curled into a slow, relieved smile.
He sat back on the throne, swept his gaze across the empty hall, and spoke aloud into the silence.
"Finally. I've been waiting a long time for this day. Bring Duke Wolf to me — I have a surprise for him."
____
👻🔥Heey! Walnut-chan for more chapters!🔥👻
🔥 New history: All My Employees Are Naughty Girls
✅ Unlock a 40-chapter backlog for ALL my series.
✅ Receive exclusive content and regular updates!
Help us reach these goals:
🎯 100 Powerstones = +1 universal bonus chapter
👻 P - Walnut-chan