Chapter 32: Dog

Within the still-thriving empire, Gerald, who once sat proudly on the throne, commanding the realm with confidence, now wore a look of bewilderment and despair.

The events and memories that had just unfolded were far too shocking and outrageous.

They left him in a state of disbelief, yet he had no choice but to accept them.

After venting his madness through frenzied shouts, all that remained was a deathly calm.

It was like the calm before a storm.

Why?

Wasn’t Emilia supposed to be playing hard to get, waiting for me?

Waiting for my apology, so I could take her purity, and we would marry?

Why did you fall in love with someone else?

You clearly loved me so much, cared for me so deeply—why betray my sincere heart?

Why treat me this way?

Do you know how much regret and pain I feel?

That pain surged in his heart again, making it ache, tears streaming down like those of a crocodile, filled with regret for the past that led to Emilia’s change of heart.

Even the future of the empire had become uncertain.

Even he could only continue to swallow his pride, with no way to reclaim his power or dignity…

Without you, what am I supposed to do?

Where are you?

At that moment, the untimely nobles and high-ranking church officials barged in, completely indifferent to the emperor’s emotions.

They only wanted him to obediently act as a signing machine, a scapegoat who would take the blame.

The nobles approached with smiling faces, showing no trace of courtesy or restraint, treating the place as if it were their own home, relaxed and carefree.

“Your Majesty, we’re back. Apologies for interrupting your personal time, but our matters are important—for the empire, of course. We hope you’ll sign these documents. Recently, these unruly citizens have been quite barbaric, refusing to cooperate. Sacrificing for the country is such an honorable thing, yet they find all sorts of excuses to avoid it, causing our conscription efficiency to drop by more than half. We can’t keep up with the upcoming war. If this continues, we’ll be overwhelmed. So, we nobles propose increasing mandatory measures and lowering the standards for national military conscription.”

“And those trying to flee the empire, regardless of gender, should be forced into conscription to fight for redemption or become slaves to the nobles. After all, they are the empire’s precious assets—why let them benefit outsiders?”

As if struck by a sudden realization, they dumped all the troublesome and shameful matters onto him, treating Gerald like a garbage bin.

“Oh, right, Your Majesty, the enemy nation will soon come to negotiate. Please handle it. With your brilliance and valor, it surely won’t be a problem.”

With that, they handed over the documents, but Gerald didn’t even glance at them, nor did he intend to take them.

Slumped dejectedly on the throne, he was in a foul mood, his thoughts in disarray, with no inclination to deal with the nobles’ affairs—or rather, he was seething with anger.

“…”

Seeing his lack of response, the nobles didn’t lose patience.

They continued smiling, holding out the documents, utterly unconcerned with the emperor’s mood.

To them, the emperor only needed to sit there and sign papers, while the nobles had much more to consider.

Like how to maximize profits by exploiting commoners and merchants, or how to deal with obstacles in a reasonable and legal manner…

“Get out, you scum, or I’ll make sure you have no place to be buried!”

Enraged by their insolence, Gerald let out a furious roar, channeling all his pent-up frustration and grievances into a fiery outburst aimed at the oblivious nobles.

He slapped the documents away, making his stance clear.

Instead of anger, the nobles laughed, each word reminding him that without Emilia, he was nothing.

“Don’t be so ungrateful, Your Majesty. You need to understand your current position. You wouldn’t want your queen and female subordinates to be toyed with by us, would you? Your queen and subordinates are so beautiful—beautiful to the point of being dangerous. Many are salivating over them. And your child isn’t that old, but some among us nobles have a taste for that. You wouldn’t want…”

“Bastards! I’ve tolerated you for far too long. Do you really think I’m a punching bag that won’t fight back or curse back? Damn you!”

At this point, Gerald couldn’t care less about what they said—he couldn’t even hear it.

In the past, he might have swallowed his pride and endured until Emilia returned… but now, with blood rushing to his head, he wasn’t thinking about anything, wasn’t considering anything.

Consequences?

Those could wait.

If he didn’t vent this anger, he felt he might suffocate.

He swung a fist, imbued with a king’s aura, but was firmly restrained in place—by the church’s people, who acted from a distance.

The noble, unfazed, continued to mock him.

With a backhanded punch, he knocked Emperor Gerald off the throne and onto the ground, stepping on his head, grinding his face into the floor with a leather shoe.

“You still think you’re a hero? Thinking you can kill me with one punch? The moment you willingly gave up the Hero’s Sword under our influence, you stopped being watched by the gods. You’re just a talentless ordinary man—foolish and lazy. Honestly, someone like you climbing above us is a disgrace to us nobles. You owe everything to Emilia, who tirelessly supported you. Do you know how much she helped you behind the scenes? How many assassinations she blocked for you? Without her, you wouldn’t even be stable in this position—no, you wouldn’t even have touched it.”

After all, those who wrong you know better than anyone how wronged you are.

Perhaps out of indignation or defiance, the noble kicked him with his leather shoe, then kicked again and again, leaving deep marks on the emperor’s face and body.

He continued, speaking from a lofty position.

“Honestly, I don’t understand why she insisted on helping an idiot like you. Was it lingering affection or foolish loyalty? Whatever it was, I can’t comprehend it. With her abilities and means, she could’ve propped up any puppet or even tied a dog to the throne, and it would’ve been more useful than you. At least it wouldn’t have been as ungrateful as you, stabbing her in the back. Honestly, thanks to you, we nobles no longer have to sit idly by, waiting for death.”

Perhaps noticing that Gerald had something to say, the noble slowly lifted his shoe from Gerald’s mouth.

Suppressed and unable to rise, Gerald, with tears streaming and teeth clenched—whether from being beaten, overwhelming humiliation, or guilt toward Emilia—spoke hoarsely.

“Just wait. When Emilia returns, I’ll kill you all, every last one of you! Die, die, die, you bastards!”

“Oh, oh, oh, what’s this? Little Gerald’s crying? Want to run home to mommy?”

The noble seemed unfazed, his tone dripping with mockery.

He flicked some earwax away, then delivered another kick to the emperor, saying carelessly:

“Looks like we nobles have been too kind to you, Emperor. Time to teach you a lesson so you understand your proper place.”