How to Live as a Tyrant’s Spoiled Brat Chapter 63

How to live as a tyrant’s spoiled brat Episode 63

(63)

I knew how to do many things, but I didn’t know how to face the daughter of the person I killed with my own hands.

My stomach felt strangely bloated.

Perhaps they do not want to experience this kind of atmosphere, so they destroy the three generations of sinners.

“Yes. I permit it. Lord Tentia. Please put away your sword.”

“majesty?”

Sir Tentia looked puzzled and took a half step back.

I picked up the crutches that had fallen on the floor and gave them back to her.

Looking closely, I saw that the chair she was sitting on wasn’t just any chair, but one with large wheels that could be rolled by hand.

“Please let me do it.”

Rudy muttered in a voice that seemed to indicate that he did not like it.

She stood up on her right leg, leaning on her cane, slightly bending her knees and making an example.

“I am Cornell, the daughter of Bitonic. I have no last name.”

“As you may already know, this is Valencianus Soletaraon Soletaras. I have a few questions for you, Cornell.”

“I will gladly comply with your noble will. If it is all right, may I sit down again?”

“I don’t allow it.”

I first looked around at the large men lying around, trembling.

This was to give a heads up on what I was going to say and to build tension.

“Are you the leader of this so-called ‘Necklace Gang’?”

“Yes. I am leading them.”

“You don’t look like a normal human, but are you using the power of erosion?”

I guess I was secretly hoping he’d shake his head.

But Cornell, like his father, did not back down.

“Yes. I am using the power of the old.”

Sir Tentia raised his sword as if there was nothing more to hear, and Rudy’s green eyes glowed coldly.

“How did you come to harness the power of erosion?”

“After reading some text in the underground waterway, my mental contamination began. I gradually lost myself, and after the birth of the saint, my mental contamination suddenly disappeared.”

It was probably an inscription engraved by those who served the worm Abaddonion.

Most of the fragments that came over to this world will have disappeared, and his influence will have evaporated.

“As I grew the organization, I realized that if I told my subordinates that message, they would be more motivated.”

“!”

I hurriedly checked her eyes.

Cornell was taken aback when I suddenly tried to roll my eyelids over, but soon relaxed and accepted it.

“Surprisingly, you’re so sane… … .”

I’m no priest, but I could tell that Cornell wasn’t being mentally consumed by the old things.

Sir Tentia had a question on his dignified face.

“Is that possible? If she can control the power of the Old Ones, doesn’t that mean she’s some kind of warlock or sorcerer?”

“Perhaps… … there must have been an illegitimate child of a noble family among your ancestors. Cornell, continue.”

“Then a kid from the slums brought me a syringe from the canal, and when I combined that liquid with my spell, I was able to gain much greater power.”

For a moment, I felt the world before my eyes turn yellow.

That syringe was what Lanchea had on his belt, and I was the one who cut off the belt while fighting Lanchea.

Rudy spoke sharply, aiming his pistol.

“Lord Valen. From what I’ve heard, it all sounds like a lie. How about sending him to the church for questioning?”

Cornell frowned sharply.

“I don’t want to go to church, so I’m saying everything like this.”

I raised one hand and gently stopped Rudy.

“Cornell. I know you’re not lying. But if what you say is true, you’re an evil old priest who has been using the power of erosion to commit serial murders in the slums. And according to Imperial law, old priests are always burned at the stake. Do you have anything else to say?”

It was so sad that this bright child with a promising future ended up choosing that path, but it was something I couldn’t do even if I wanted to save him.

At that moment, Cornell looked as if he was hearing it for the first time.

“What do you mean?”

* * *

There was an awkward silence in the room for a moment.

Sir Tentia clicked her tongue and broke the silence.

“The streets are filled with corpses with their intestines ripped out. Is this not what you did to increase your power?”

“The one I serve is Amon, the wolf-faced one. He does not accept entrails as tribute.”

I looked face to face with Lord Tentia.

“Your Majesty. If it’s Amon, wouldn’t it be strange to call him an old priest?”

“Kyung-ui is right.”

Amon was an ancient god regarded as the patron god of warriors in the northern regions.

The church was not particularly wary of welcoming those who had died honorably into its world and treating them well.

Since the Demon Realm has never been opened, it has not caused much damage to humanity.

Rudy asked me.

“Your Majesty, if what this child says is true, then what did we see?”

I recalled that there were more eyes shining in the darkness than I had thought.

“If even a one-legged girl can come into contact with the knowledge of the old, then others can too. That’s about it. There’s one more reason to essentially cleanse the slums.”

Cornell opened his mouth in a pleading voice, perhaps sensing the change in atmosphere between Rudy and Sir Tentia.

“I don’t distribute drugs. I don’t touch dangerous items that involve nobles. I don’t accept commissions for murder. I have no intention of operating outside of the slums and breaking imperial law.”

Sir Tentia said in a stern voice.

“But isn’t it true that you led your men on this street and killed countless people?”

“Do you think, honorable knight, that this fight would not have taken place without me?”

“I don’t like using my head,” said Tentia Kyung as she took a half step back with an expression on her face.

As rulers, we could just understand that protest.

The focal point is most important, but the times and circumstances create the focal point.

With the slums overcrowded and the knowledge of the old spreading, it would be strange if there weren’t fights as winter approaches.

“I’ve unified the guards who came down from the red light district, gotten the gangs to stop using drugs, and I’ve been providing jobs to the refugees who were driven out by crop failures in the east and the orc hordes in the west. There’s been friction with other gangs over drugs. That’s all.”

Cornell paused for a beat and then continued.

“Your Highness, Archduke Valencian. Have I committed a crime worthy of death?”

Because the gun in those almond-like eyes is still there.

I couldn’t spit out words easily.

Deep down, I wondered how long she would be able to grow and if she would ever be able to leave the slums.

There was also a great sense of indebtedness for actually taking over public works projects that were originally supposed to be carried out by the royal family.

“Throw away the syringe. It’s a really dangerous item. Then I’ll let you go.”

Still, this part definitely had to be addressed.

Cornell looked thoughtful for a moment, then took a wooden case from under the chair and opened it.

Inside were three large syringes.

“This is all I have.”

It was the right quantity.

“Anyone who has been injected with this even once cannot control themselves. I recommend killing them all.”

I laid them on the floor, crushed them with my heels, and burned them until no trace of the syringes or liquid remained.

An erosion inducer made from the cerebrospinal fluid of the royal family, a terrible liquid whose existence must not be recorded.

“Amon gave them the nature to follow a leader. However, since Your Majesty is concerned about that part, I will be mindful of it.”

She said with a proud smile.

I turned back to the window, gesturing to Rudy and Sir Tentia.

“Be careful. In the Empire, responsibility is about consequences. If you lose control of them, you will be held accountable.”

“Thank you for your advice, Your Majesty.”

Cornell rose from his large wheeled chair and bowed his head.

* * *

On an early winter evening, as the moon began to rise above the haphazardly constructed, trashy buildings, Captain Geredo, a red-light district native and Cornell’s subordinate, felt a strange heat again today.

For the past few days, I’ve been so achy in the evenings that I can’t stand it.

Even though he deliberately entered other gangs’ territory to pick fights and trained with his comrades, his passion did not go away.

After thinking about it carefully, I realized that it was probably because the injection that Cornell used to give me, one drop at a time, disappeared during each prayer time.

Originally, just reciting the spell would give me a surge of strength, but now I felt empty without the injection.

When I talked to him, his subordinates said that they felt the same way.

Eventually he brought up the topic of evening prayer time.

“Captain. What happened a few days ago when we all passed out?”

“You haven’t given me any injections since then. Did they take them away?”

I finished my evening prayers, but I was still thirsty.

It seemed that the other ten leaders who followed Cornell felt similarly.

I could tell just by looking at your eyes.

Those strangely thirsty eyes.

“I decided not to use the injection anymore. It’s too dangerous.”

Cornell said bluntly.

Our organization does not do drugs or engage in pickpocketing.

It was the same voice that said that.

There are voices saying there is no room for negotiation.

At that moment, Geredo felt something welling up in his chest.

“Captain. Are you deciding something like that without even consulting us?”

“The captain doesn’t even go out and fight, but we fought well thanks to the injection. What should we do if he suddenly refuses to give us the injection?”

“Two of my brothers died yesterday!”

The large men, including him, jumped up from their seats.

‘The little one without any legs is the leader.’

‘You little brat from the slums!’

‘I followed that order, but now I know.’

‘I need an injection, I need an injection, I need an injection, I need an injection.’

“Eww!”

That moment.

Slowly!

Papapapapapapat-!

A sound that shouldn’t have come from inside the room was heard.

Blue and purple tentacles sprouted from the men’s facial features and writhed wildly.

Cornell looked out the window at the moon rising.

“under.”

It was the full moon when mana was at its thickest.

“You have been influenced by other old things.”

It hadn’t even been a month since he started giving them the injections.

“Hand it over!”

The men rushed at me, waving their tentacle-like fingers.

The hair on the nape of my neck, wrists, and stomach was also alive and curling.

Cornell sat quietly in his wheelchair, muttering.

“I knew this would happen.”

From outside the window, sleek figures jumped into the room.

It was a squad of assassins that she had raised separately, wary of the betrayal of the Ten Commandments.

It was a stroke of genius not to inject them with the injection, as their size would increase significantly if injected, and nimble movements were important to them.

“Ahh!”

“Ugh!”

Although they were pushed back in force, they were already well armed and ready to fight.

Meanwhile, Geredos and the Ten Commandments were disarming themselves for evening prayer.

“Eww!”

Geredo grabbed the face of one of the assassins who was trying to stab him in the neck with seven fingers and squeezed it.

The moment he was slammed to the ground and his body was cut into pieces, a short sword stabbed him in both knees, shoulder, and nape.

thud!

Geredo’s giant body tilted toward the floor.

“Ugh!”

He groaned, and the wheelchair came forward.

A girl with one leg missing was looking down at him.

“Four, Mr. Cornell. Please save me.”

He pleaded with the one-legged girl.

Cornell shook his head firmly.

Amon did not tolerate traitors.

“no.”

puck!

The spear-shaped tip of the stick pierced through Geredo’s tentacle eye and into his head.

Then a scream was heard from below the building.

One of the assassins shouted outside the window.

“Mr. Cornell, everyone who received the injection is going crazy.”

“Keep your distance and subdue them with spears. We don’t need any survivors.”

“yes.”

She calmly ordered her assassination squad to eliminate the injected combat team members gathered on the first floor.

As the suppression was about to end, I looked down and saw a figure holding a torch running urgently from the alley.

Soon, hundreds and thousands of footsteps were heard.

“no way……!”

Cornell looked at the combat crew members he had already defeated.

It was expected when I heard that they were causing trouble in the sphere of other organizations.

There was no choice.

By gathering them in one place and striking them, the purge could be completed with minimal sacrifice.

But the purge was ultimately self-destructive.

Especially during wartime.

In the darkness, hundreds and thousands of torches could be seen coming in waves.