At this moment, the gradually declining empire welcomed back its emperor, but this emperor was not respected by anyone. Gerald, looking disheveled and defeated, was forcibly brought back by Duke Orlay, shackled by hand and foot, hair unkempt, like a dog, endlessly ranting under the gaze of the nobles gathered in the grand church.
As usual, his behavior only reassured the nobles even more.
“Damn it, damn it, I barely escaped with my life, and you still had to capture me and drag me back. Don’t give me the chance to take revenge on you.”
Gerald’s eyes glared viciously from beneath his messy bangs. The woman who once belonged to him had become a plaything for others, and worse, those hated nobles. Whether he was acting or speaking from genuine emotion was unclear.
His anger and displeasure were evident.
“Just you wait, just wait.”
Unexpectedly, those women clung to the nobles without fear. They put on a frail act, mocking the hero who was about to become nothing more than a war machine, showing no regard for any past feelings.
“Is that so? I’ll be waiting, hero. I’ll be waiting. But you’ll have to get past my husband first. After all, I’m married now.”
Judging by their looks, finding new partners was no problem for them; some were even visibly pregnant.
Duke Orlay intervened in the brewing quarrel with a smile, using magical telepathy. He did not want anyone to lose sight of the bigger picture. After all, there would be plenty of opportunities and time for revenge.
“Calm down, calm down, Your Majesty. What we need to do now is show weakness, to let the nobles and church members around us relax their guard.”
“Fine.”
Reluctantly, Gerald gritted his teeth and muttered quietly in his heart—this was the plan they had agreed upon before returning.
The surrounding nobles seemed quite satisfied with this performance. They took the opportunity to instruct the church members to prepare for the hero’s power ceremony, setting up control enchantments to prevent the hero from breaking free.
After all, the empire’s situation was urgent.
They needed a hero at full strength to stop the impending tragedy.
However, a few people sensed something was off. They stepped forward to block Duke Orlay from moving further, reaching out as if to take Gerald away, suspecting Orlay’s intentions were not good.
“Orlay, weren’t you on this emperor’s side before? What are you scheming now?”
“What scheme could I possibly have? I was foolish before, but now I’m clear-headed. What I’m doing is not only to show my stance—not for the empire, but for the future revival of our nobles. That’s why I personally take action, to assert myself. After all, we nobles are family. I’m only safeguarding noble interests, isn’t that what we should be doing now?”
Orlay responded calmly, though his words were full of flaws and even played the emotional card.
The effect was minimal, and the situation fell into a deadlock.
At this moment, an elder noble with some authority spoke up, lightly tapping his cane to stop the infighting. His tone was earnest, and he seemed pleased with Orlay’s performance.
“Enough, Duke Orlay—or rather, you’re right. We nobles are family. It’s because we weren’t united, each with our own schemes, that we fell to this state. Since he is the war prize, let him be. Besides, even if he tries anything, we can respond immediately. The church is watching as well.”
These words served to give both sides some reassurance. Afterwards, Orlay dragged Gerald with chains, moving through without hindrance. Despite that, Gerald was constantly watched and monitored. Any odd behavior would be dealt with immediately, and he was not allowed near the ritual. But Orlay’s plan had already been set.
A strange smile curled at the corner of his mouth. He knew very well that the nobles would never fully trust him; that had been intentional. Sure enough, all attention was on himself.
That was perfect. As long as no one paid much attention to Gerald, not even checking him carefully, the real show was about to begin.
With Gerald standing in the center of the magic array, still bound by shackles, the hero’s ceremony began again after many years.
Divine power was poured into him, restoring his body to peak condition. Strength surged forth, and golden light radiated from his pupils, as if ready to burn everything away.
The church members could not help but cheer, “It’s successful! It’s successful! We’ve finally created a hero that can be controlled by man, just like in the books.”
Heroes like this were terrifying; they had to be tightly controlled.
Last time, the former Saintess Emilia stopped it from going this far, but now there was no one to intervene.
“Yes, it’s a success! Wonderful! Thank you!”
Unexpectedly, Gerald remained composed. He lowered his voice and slowly stepped out of the magic array. Without emotion, he delivered a single hand chop, cleaving a cheering church member in two. Blood and entrails splattered on the floor, but he felt nothing, as if crushing an ant.
Blood splashed across his flawless body—fresh skin and muscle—like a god had possessed him.
At the sight, the nobles around shifted from cheers to horror in an instant. Only Orlay stood firm like a mountain, quietly watching, idly fiddling with his ring. He had left himself a contingency on Gerald. If Gerald dared to betray him, Orlay was confident he could crush him completely, even turn the tables.
After all, there is no such thing as a free lunch; free is the most expensive.
Most likely, a slaughter of the nobles would follow. Although such actions would plunge the empire into further chaos—after all, without the noble class maintaining the empire’s operation, there was no immediate replacement for their role—Orlay had neither the time nor the ability to do what Saintess Emilia did: gradually replace the nobles in a gentle manner, minimizing consequences.
What he was doing now was clearing obstacles and troubles to prepare for Emilia’s return, using this hero until he had no more use, then discarding him.
As this thought concluded, the slaughter quickly began.
Gerald summoned the Hero’s Sword from thin air. Though unseen for many years, it remained razor-sharp. He looked every bit as majestic as when he once fought the demon race, but now he was simply venting his personal grudges, his eyes filled with hatred and rage.
The holy sword no longer bore the blood of demons, but of humans. The surface of the blade echoed with the agonized wails of those dying.
Some nobles resisted, others fled, but without exception, heads rolled.
The hero’s power was overwhelmingly strong.
After all, this Demon King was the strongest in history.
The pleading cries of women fell on deaf ears. Gerald swung his sword relentlessly, shattering them with ease, their bodies scattering like leaves in the wind. A dark satisfaction welled up inside him, utterly merciless. Deep down, he knew only Emilia was his true love.
“You are nothing but toys for venting. You betrayed me and became unclean. I will be the one to destroy you.”
Even Duke Orlay, though accustomed to bloodshed, couldn’t help but comment, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head as if muttering to himself.
“This hero… or is he a demon king? I’m having trouble telling the difference.”