Hooves lightly tread on the path covered with pine needles, making a dull rustling sound.
The trees on both sides stretch out pale branches, filtering the sunlight into fragments scattered on the silver ground.
A man and a woman ride the same steed, traveling on the path back home.
The woman sits in front, the man behind, and it is Emilia who controls the horse, a faint smile on her lips, her delicate hand holding the reins.
It seems they just had a pleasant conversation, lifting their heavy moods a bit.
As for the man, naturally, it’s Sieg. Why?
Because he doesn’t know how to ride a horse, doesn’t want to walk, and certainly doesn’t want to use his hard-recovered strength to hurry along.
So, it made perfect sense for him to hop on the horse.
What’s there to be embarrassed about?
The horse was bought with his money, after all.
He has no such thing as shame.
Even if he did, it would be as thick as a city wall.
Perhaps feeling a bit bored on the journey, he seizes the chance to revisit their earlier topic.
“You didn’t want to chat a bit longer with that nun? I mean, we’re in a hurry, but not that much of a hurry.”
“No need. What needed to be said has been said. Knowing each other is safe is the best greeting. Besides, I have more important things to do—for you.”
She says this meaningfully, turning back with a gentle smile.
It’s beautiful, as if all the past hardships and grievances dissolve into nothing at this moment, her eyes seeing only his stern face.
As a sigma male, Sieg doesn’t fall for this.
He’ll never succumb to a woman’s trap.
From start to finish, he keeps his hands raised, refusing to touch the girl even slightly, even sitting a small distance apart.
Every detail is meticulous—too meticulous.
Even now, he maintains his stoic expression.
Faced with this breathtaking scene, he can no longer see his “brother” as a man.
Honestly, she doesn’t even resemble a man anymore… there’s simply no comparison.
Holding his forehead, he speaks again, seriously reminding her.
“You don’t need to do anything for me. We’re not that close, Emilia. This whole thing was just a mutual agreement. You’re doing it for your so-called redemption, and I’m using you. We both get what we need, that’s all.”
He pauses, as if helpless or resolute.
“After all, the moment you betrayed me, betrayed our agreement, I decided I’d never forgive you. We can never go back to being brothers. Stop wasting your effort. This isn’t about right or wrong, redemption or not. It’s about principles—my bottom line.”
“I’m sorry, I overstepped. But about the betrayal, if I get the chance in the future, I’ll explain everything to you. I hope you’ll give me a chance then.”
Hearing this, Emilia feels a pang in her heart.
She had humbled herself by the male lead’s side just so they could return home, but due to the system, she couldn’t explain.
But betrayal is betrayal—an undeniable fact.
She can only hope for a suitable opportunity in the future to explain.
She hopes he’ll give her a chance to reconcile then.
“Playing the riddle master again? Riddle masters, get out of Gotham! Just say it if there’s something to say. How am I supposed to know the inside story if you don’t tell me? How am I supposed to know what grievances you have? Hmph, you’re turning this into some melodramatic misunderstanding, like a soap opera. Sorry, but I’m not that kind of idiot male protagonist.”
Sieg’s reaction is practically a sweating soybean emoji.
He shrugs.
As the Hakimi Demon King, it’s been a long time since he felt this speechless.
But if she won’t talk, there’s nothing he can do.
Do I have to grovel for her to open her mouth and explain?
Does she think I owe her or something?
The more he thinks, the more annoyed he gets.
He decides to drop it—whatever happens, happens.
It feels like last time went the same way.
“…I’m sorry.”
And she could only keep apologizing, focusing all her attention on the other person, not noticing the small puddle in front of her.
As the horse stepped into it, she lost her balance, her delicate hand failing to grasp the reins, nearly falling off.
Fortunately, Sige instinctively reached out in time.
With a firm grip, he steadied her slender waist, pulling her back onto the saddle.
During this, he remained silent, feigning aloofness, perhaps unsure of what to say, so he said nothing at all.
“Thank you.”
But Emilia wouldn’t stay silent.
Her cheeks flushed as she expressed her gratitude, unsure if it was from shyness or embarrassment.
She pursed her lips lightly and nodded.
Both, perhaps.
“No, man, don’t do this!”
Sige’s loud complaint echoed through the forest, startling a flock of crows that flapped their free wings, flying toward the distant imperial capital.
This place seemed calm and prosperous on the surface, but undercurrents surged beneath.
Even the emperor, long confined to the depths of the palace and drained by the women around him, planned to step out and see for himself.
After all, the sun was shining, and it was the annual Founding Day.
At this moment, Gerald finally understood that blindly following the nobles’ advice and information would only blind him.
Those nobles, outwardly obedient and fawning, were wolves in sheep’s clothing behind his back.
He had learned his lesson the hard way, but it was too late now.
Sighing heavily, he walked step by step from his chambers to the palace entrance, his guards closely following.
Years of battle-honed instincts hadn’t dulled; his gaze remained sharp.
He sensed something was off.
The patrolling knights and even the guards seemed unfamiliar, as if he had never seen them before.
In the vast palace, he could hardly find a familiar face, which made him uneasy.
During Emilia’s reign, she had never touched the palace staff.
But in just one year, the nobles had been so impatient.
Thinking back… when she was here, those were the most carefree, freest times.
As emperor, no matter what conditions or ideas he proposed—however abstract or whimsical—she would agree to them, doing her best to fulfill them.
And she did it well, benefiting the nation and its people.
The citizens praised him as a wise emperor, while she bore the brunt of any criticism or infamy.
The more he thought about it, the more regret consumed him.
He couldn’t fathom what he had done.
Silently, he arrived at the palace entrance, a place he hadn’t visited in a long time.
He looked up at the sky, remembering the days when Emilia was banished, when the people ceaselessly cheered “Long live the emperor.”
Now, that was gone, replaced by silence or curses and expulsion.
Even stepping out was becoming troublesome…
The moment he reached the palace city gate, he could hear the guards whispering behind him, seemingly contacting someone.
Even if he was angry or furious, he could only pretend not to hear.
Why?
For the sake of the empire, perhaps.
Not far away, a commotion drew his attention.
“Get lost! Our benevolent emperor can’t stand seeing beggars like you here, ruining the view. Scram!”
“To hell with the emperor! That guy promised us life would be better after driving Emilia out. We believed him and tore down everything she built. Now, when someone in my family gets sick, we can only keep donating to the church to save their lives, bankrupting ourselves. And in the end, all we get is ‘Your faith isn’t devout enough; they deserve to die.’ Argh, that damned emperor!”
The onlookers exchanged glances and lowered their heads, not just because of the blasphemous words but also because the dusty beggar’s words struck a deep chord.
They said nothing.
They simply hurried away.
A year ago, there was something akin to a hospital.
Even for commoners, treatment was affordable and practical, relying on medical science with magical healing as a supplement—a rudimentary system Emilia had personally established and promoted to prevent the church from monopolizing healing resources.
After becoming the church’s archbishop, her first priority was addressing livelihood issues, only to uncover a harsh truth: even when she ordered reduced healing costs, it worked in the imperial capital, but in distant regions, where the emperor’s reach was weak, her supervisors couldn’t prevent church members from pocketing profits.
The problem persisted.
Thus, the concept of hospitals was born, designed to compete with the church, prevent its monopoly, lower treatment costs, and ensure higher survival rates for the people.
Once implemented, many things naturally fell into place.
But with Emilia’s downfall, everything she built became a target.
The church, naturally, wouldn’t spare these so-called hospitals.
In the name of faith, they incited the masses to personally destroy these competitors.
I find it ironic that a church would destroy a hospital.