Master Emilia, exhausted after a busy day, sat sloppily on a chair, covered in dust and grime, utterly disheveled.
She was too tired to care about any saintly etiquette.
Her silver hair was a tangled mess, her body was filthy from head to toe, and her clothes were patched with dirt—a perfect picture of a miner.
There was no beauty, no elegance.
Not long ago, she ventured alone to explore the Demon King’s castle, bringing no one along, only a magical tool to summon Sig.
Though it was a ruin, danger was inevitable.
But if she didn’t investigate thoroughly, knowing nothing about the Demon King’s castle ruins would make the upcoming work arrangements a complete disaster.
So, she had to go, no matter what, and make things as clear as possible.
Why not bring Sig, you ask?
He’s the Demon King, so he should be familiar with the place and could investigate effortlessly.
But he was busy keeping an eye on and spying on those mercenaries, too occupied to help.
He hadn’t made a move yet, but if he did, it would likely be tomorrow, the day the contract ends.
In the end, her exploration of the Demon King’s castle ruins could only be described as barely passable.
She nearly died in there, she said wearily, slumping in defeat.
“I’m gonna die.”
“You didn’t die, did you? Thanks to me sensing you were in danger, a quick teleport and an Amaterasu spell… otherwise, you’d probably be Emilia-sauce by now, and I’d be left tearfully looting your corpse, shouting ‘good riddance’ and popping champagne.”
Sig, standing nearby with an air of elegance, leaned against the wall.
Dressed in dashing, ornate clothing with neatly styled hair, he looked every bit the refined gentleman.
His face was expressionless, but a trace of concern flickered in his eyes.
With a casual wave of his hand, he used magic to clean her up.
Pausing for a moment, he shrugged nonchalantly, as if forced to clock in for work, and sighed.
“Here’s the best plan: once I’m done here, I’ll go with you. I know the Demon King’s castle like it’s my own home. You’re way too inefficient on your own—it’s painful to watch. Plus, haven’t you always wanted to team up with me? Can’t let you sit idle, so I guess you’re stuck with me, just in case you get yourself into trouble again.”
“Alright, I… I do want to be with you, always, forever, never apart again. But won’t I be a burden? You won’t find me annoying or troublesome, will you?”
Triggered by his words, Emilia blushed, her shy demeanor turning into a steamroller of determination, her words firm and forceful, practically pinning him down.
He could only bear it silently, thinking, Too heavy, way too heavy.
It was like facing Jotaro dealing with Dio—the pressure, the intensity, the overwhelming presence.
He quickly waved his hands, forcing a wry smile.
“Forever together? Nah, you’ll live a hundred years at most, while I’ve got at least a millennium left. Am I supposed to carry your ashes and portrait around, sightseeing and partying? That’s terrifying. Folks, don’t talk about being a burden or not—I wouldn’t dare find you troublesome. I’m gonna need you in the future. Oh, by the way, here’s something interesting. Take a look, you might like it.”
He handed her a newspaper—brand new, detailing events from various countries.
Don’t ask where he got it; it definitely wasn’t from his pants, definitely not…
“What’s this? Sig, are you worried I’m out of touch, holed up making mistakes?”
Puzzled, she took the paper without hesitation and flipped it open.
Her confusion was quickly resolved as she saw the headline.
Due to his selfish desires and falsified evidence, he expelled Lady Emilia.
His daily behavior was grossly negligent and unfit, treating the empire as his personal playground, indulging in debauchery.
The empire’s decline was entirely his fault, and he was now facing impeachment.
His Round Table Conference supported this just decision, actively cooperating with the nobles to restore the empire’s glory.
Nobles and citizens alike were overjoyed, awaiting Judgment Day, believing that replacing the emperor would bring Emilia back, and everything would be fine.
After reading, she paused, biting her lip lightly, then shook her head.
No emotional reaction, as if it had nothing to do with her—and indeed, it didn’t.
Since that moment a year ago, everything had ended.
“I have nothing to say. It’s a familiar scene, but… I don’t care about the empire anymore. I won’t meddle in its affairs, not even with Gerald. He’s just a stranger to me now.”
“You’d better mean that. Don’t just talk tough and then soften up when Gerald comes begging, swayed by old feelings, and end up… you know, ‘resolving a thousand worries’ with him. A day as husband and wife means a hundred days of grace, tch. Women. If you pull that on me, I’ll kill you and then fly to your grave every year to steal your offerings.”
It was clear he still harbored resentment over her past betrayal, his tone laced with mockery and sarcasm, yet somehow tinged with a strange sadness.
No one knew why—maybe just an illusion.
“No way. I’ve said before, he and I were just friends, nothing more. I never did anything improper with him…”
“Yeah, yeah, sure, you’re always right. I have to believe you, no choice there,” Sig said, rolling his eyes like a stubborn mule, cutting her off.
He didn’t believe for a second that nothing had happened between them.
He’d said why before.
At that moment, Emilia’s face flushed hotter than any curse word.
She bit down on his shoulder, leaving a distinct tooth mark.
Accompanied by a Tom-and-Jerry-style scream, birds were startled and flew off into the distance.
Far away in the empire, the nobles’ patience with the emperor had reached its limit.
But formalities had to be observed, and everything needed to be done properly.
For these nobles, replacing an uncooperative, dishonest Gerald with an obedient, malleable puppet emperor was a no-lose deal.
Moreover, the citizens’ patience and anger had reached a boiling point, with riots and unrest breaking out.
The nobles could hold out at first, but over time, it became unbearable—mainly because it was harder to amass wealth.
They urgently needed a scapegoat to stabilize the public, and that could only be Gerald.
Given the empire’s current state and environment, dethroning the emperor was all too easy.
It might be a bit rushed, but no harm done, no harm done.
“I am the emperor! You can’t treat me like this. You must obey me, must! I’m the emperor! If Emilia comes back, I’ll make you all pay!”
Locked in his chambers, Gerald shouted and ranted, issuing orders to the guards at the door.
Clearly, the guards paid him no mind, even showing disdain.
Before Gerald could continue his outburst, the door was pushed open, and a noble stepped in.
“Alright, Your Majesty, come with me to your Round Table Conference. The people there will decide if you’ll face trial. Good luck, my emperor.”
His words carried a cryptic undertone, but Gerald didn’t catch it.
He only knew the Round Table was filled with his people and his woman.
It was in the bag, totally in the bag.
He’d remain emperor.
The empire’s emperor could only be him.
Even if he was a puppet, it didn’t matter—as long as Emilia came back…
You’re no emperor if you don’t even have power over your own empire.