In the radiant empire blessed with clear skies and gentle breezes, the people’s fury burned fiercely, venting uncontrollably, more scorching than the blazing sun, incinerating everything they wished to destroy.
At this moment, the former emperor, Gerald, had become the target of their wrath, the object to be burned to temporarily quell their anger.
His situation was dire.
Not only had he been beaten half to death by Sieg, but the jailers who arrived later added to his torment.
His body was covered in wounds, his once-handsome face swollen like a pig’s head.
His eyes were so puffy he could barely open them, with only his faint breathing proving he was still alive.
He looked utterly broken, his eyes devoid of light—not from physical pain, but from the agony in his heart, the unbearable loss of his one true love.
Only now did he realize that those other women were mere playthings for fleeting desires.
Only Emilia was the one he could entrust his life to.
Without her, his future was nothing but darkness and despair.
He knew he had to take Emilia back, to reclaim her from that man’s grasp.
But the memory of that kiss and her words had shattered him, leaving him reeling.
He hadn’t yet recovered, and regret began to consume him.
The guilt, as if he could feel her pain, made him feel utterly humiliated.
The contrast between his past and present was stark, like falling from paradise into hell.
If none of this had happened, perhaps I wouldn’t be here, and Emilia wouldn’t be in that man’s hands.
Damn it, that man was nothing but an opportunist who took advantage of the situation.
Emilia must have been bewitched by him to fall in love, to depend on him, to act against her heart and say those things to me.
Wait for me, Emilia.
I’ll save you.
You can only be mine.
For some reason, he furrowed his brow, feeling that the man by Emilia’s side seemed familiar, too familiar.
Even his aura felt ominous, as if Gerald had seen him somewhere before, perhaps in his foster mother’s memories.
But he couldn’t place where.
There was no time for Gerald to dwell on it or recall past moments.
A piece of garbage hurled at him struck his face, snapping him back to the harsh reality.
He was now strung up at the center of the plaza, high on a cross, unable to move.
The enraged crowd surrounded him, glaring at their former emperor.
Whispers and shouts filled the air—accusations of betraying their trust, failing Emilia, deceiving them, and causing all their woes.
It all sounded so familiar.
A bitter, self-mocking smile crossed his lips as tears of regret mixed with his inner pain, sliding down his face and dripping into the crowd, unnoticed.
A year ago, Emilia must have felt this way too…
It’s unbearable.
I’m sorry.
He longed to apologize to her in person.
News of Emilia’s return had somehow leaked, impossible to contain.
The situation spiraled beyond the control of the nobles and the Round Table, forcing them to bring Gerald out for public judgment, skipping many procedures to prevent an unprecedented riot.
This was why they dragged him from the dungeon and hung him high—to avoid him being beaten to death outright, which would serve little purpose.
They needed to make full use of him.
At this moment, Emilia’s prestige in the empire had reached its peak, almost deified, a symbol of the empire itself.
Whether this was good or bad, she likely didn’t care.
For some reason, Gerald suddenly burst into wild laughter, his voice piercing through the noisy crowd.
Hanging there, he stopped struggling, motionless.
Perhaps the pressure and torment had driven him mad, or maybe he just needed to vent.
Or perhaps… he realized that he, and the crowd below, were nothing but clowns manipulated by others.
“Hahaha, I really am an idiot. How else could I end up like this? And you lot aren’t any better…”
He admitted his folly, but before he could finish, a barrage of garbage—rotten eggs, vegetable scraps, stones, socks—silenced him, drowning his voice in the sea of people.
History was repeating itself.
The people vented their anger and frustration, while the nobles watched coldly from the sidelines.
Even the female members of the Round Table did the same, some in dark corners, panting as they sought their next patron, engaging in primal acts.
Gerald bore it all alone, suffering the humiliation as his once-proud dignity was trampled.
All that remained was the worthless man he’d become.
Yet he didn’t cry out, only wallowed in shame, savoring it, hoping, his eyes fixed on the distance where he thought he glimpsed a silver-haired girl.
But it was just a delusion born of exhaustion.
How he wished Emilia would return to save him, that they could run away together and live a simple life, as they had in their childhood, fearless and free.
But there were no “ifs.”
All he had left was regret and memories, insignificant amidst the crowd’s jeers and curses.
The nobles seemed pleased with the spectacle.
Soon, the next phase began.
The prison cart that once carried Emilia now carried Gerald.
The irony of fate was clear.
His expression was dazed, his consciousness fading, his wounds festering and oozing pus.
Without his heroic powers, he was no different from an ordinary man—perhaps just a bit hungrier, with a slightly bigger belly.
The cart slowly wound through the empire’s streets, with people from all corners flocking to vent their emotions.
In the distance, nobles and the Round Table seized the moment, delivering speeches in the plaza, painting rosy futures as if everything would improve once Gerald was gone.
“People of the empire, the great sinner Gerald has been brought to justice! He is now paraded for all to see, a warning that our empire is not a lawless land. Even an emperor faces consequences for his wrongs!”
“From this moment, our empire will rise again! His incompetence, indulgence, arrogance, and misrule brought us to this state. Without him, your lives wouldn’t have suffered, and Emilia wouldn’t have left you!”
“Rejoice, people! You are the true heroes!”
The crowd roared with fervor, each word striking a chord, fueling their dreams of a brighter future and Emilia’s return.
It was all a lie, of course.
Living with hope is different from living without it, but lies remain lies, and paper cannot contain fire forever.
They might work for now, but in time, the truth would surface.
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