Chapter 44

I, Fat Nebulo, had a nursemaid.

She came from a prominent merchant family, nearly sold into slavery due to debt, but I heard the head of the Etier Trading Company, a distant relative, had helped her.

She was a beautiful and gentle woman.

Even now, I often recall her dahila-colored eyes.

The Fifth Prince Zionis was the most despised prince in the Great Imperial Palace, and I, the Fourth Prince Nebulo, was the next most scorned.

Especially since Ferbias openly looked down on us, the courtiers had no choice but to join in, wary of offending the eldest son of the Great Emperor.

Just as Pies Roesti was Zionis’ only companion, my kind and beautiful nursemaid was my sole comfort.

I regarded her more as a mother than my own mother, whom I rarely saw.

In truth, back then, I didn’t look like someone who’d be called Fat; I was a rather refined child, resembling my mother.

It was around the age of eleven, precisely when I was kidnapped by ruffians while on my way to visit my maternal grandfather, that I began to be called Fat.

The ruffians abducted me with astonishing ease.

The reason was obvious.

I saw with my own eyes my beautiful and kind nursemaid vanish after receiving a hefty sum from the ruffians.

‘N-no, it’s not true, Nursemaid? Nursemaid! It’s not true-!’

My nursemaid had sold me out.

At eleven years old, I couldn’t believe it.

I screamed, sobbed, and thrashed about.

Perhaps displeased by this, the ruffians tormented me thoroughly.

Maybe they harbored resentment toward my noble blood.

It took ten days and five more to rescue me.

To me, those fifteen days felt longer than fifteen years and the traces of those ten days and five remain vivid under my clothes and in my soul.

The Nebulo who returned was a different person.

I couldn’t stop eating until I vomited and I screamed hysterically if anyone looked at me.

Some gazed at me with pity, but many in the Great Imperial Palace cast even more scornful looks than before.

‘How long will you remain bound to that vulgar wench, Your Highness? Tie the knot yourself.’

It was my maternal grandfather, the head of the Etier Trading Company, who captured the nursemaid.

Hoping it might ease my madness even slightly, he spent money like water to seize the fugitive woman.

Foolishly, she had hidden in her hometown, only to be dragged back by rough men, her hair gripped tightly.

‘P-please, Your Highness. Spare me. Spare…’

I personally tore the mouth of the nursemaid who begged for her life.

Unable to endure the pain, she collapsed and died, which left me unsatisfied.

I hadn’t been able to die during those ten days and five of my abduction.

‘Th-that’s right. As Grandfather said. Who can I blame? I was the fool for trusting a lowly wench just because she was beautiful.’

I, Fat Nebulo, realized.

Even a nursemaid was just a servant—how could I have trusted her?

What a foolish thing.

I no longer gave my heart to lowly hirelings.

They’d sell me out the moment their own interests were at stake, wouldn’t they?

Yet, servants were necessary.

Thus, I longed for perfect attendants who would never betray me.

The blood of Cordis responded to that twisted desire.

And so, my Ars awakened.

Subjugated Servants servi subjugati.

* * *

‘Subjugated Servants’.

An Ars that revived the dead to serve as slaves.

There was no limit to their numbers, and each one possessed strength incomparable to their living selves.

Befitting the Fourth Prince’s Ars, it was powerful but came with several strict rules.

First, they had to be beautiful maidens.

Second, they had to have belonged to me in life.

Third, they had to have been killed by my own hand.

Only those who met these three conditions could be revived as ‘Subjugated Servants’.

And the fourth rule: the strength of the revived servant was proportional to the pain they suffered at my hands before death.

Upon discovering this Ars, I took beautiful maidens as my maids, brought them to the cellar, inflicted pain with all my heart, and ended their lives to make them ‘Subjugated Servants’.

To say I felt no guilt would be a lie.

But I had to strengthen my Ars to survive—there was no other way.

At least, that’s what I thought.

I believed I had some degree of justification.

Shion found it utterly revolting.

“You torture them to death to make them stronger and then use them?”

Shion spat without hiding his contempt.

Eleven corpse maids.

All in horrific states.

Hes was among them.

Where her green eyes should have been, there were empty sockets, her eyelids sewn shut with thick thread.

All eleven were like that.

Some floated without limbs, others had tongues pulled long to their chests, or stakes pierced through both ears.

Yet they held buckets, brooms, or rags in their hands.

Even in death, their subjugated state was pitiful.

“How did you awaken such an Ars?”

“…….”

“Don’t answer. I don’t want to hear it.”

The Regression Prince’s eyes were cold.

Shion didn’t know about my nursemaid’s betrayal.

But he figured something had twisted my soul.

The Great Imperial Palace of Cordis was like hell for the powerless.

Yet, he felt no pity.

He had given me enough chances.

“Kill him!”

Faced with a threat, one either got angry or afraid.

Thus, I trembled but directed fierce hostility at Shion.

My eleven corpse maids charged at the Regression Prince.

The maid with the broom led the charge.

Perhaps because of her tall stature, her steps were swift.

Her face, covered in stitched scars, showed no emotion.

She swung the broom with great force, in a clumsy stance.

Such a large motion in this mountainous terrain was a mess, too flawed to pinpoint a single issue.

Yet it was threatening.

Several tree trunks stood in the broom’s path, but it shattered them effortlessly as it aimed for Shion.

“What brute strength. How much pain did you inflict?”

Shion leaped lightly.

He hooked his black claws into a tree, climbing higher.

The broom swept futilely through the space he’d occupied.

Angered at missing Shion, the maid swung her broom wildly, snapping thick tree trunks like straw.

‘Stronger than most knights.’

Two shadows lunged at him.

One held a bucket, the other a duster.

Their movements lacked restraint but were astonishingly swift.

Valziart covered Shion’s skin.

The black armor protected him.

‘Their master is Nebulo, but this Ars is disgustingly powerful.’

Ferbias, who loathed me, had employed me solely for the strength of ‘Subjugated Servants’.

Ferbias recognized the potential of this horrific Ars, and I, in response, trampled countless people.

‘Now it’s eleven, but before the Regression, I commanded over three hundred.’

In war, I subjugated prisoners as slaves.

Then, I tortured them thoroughly before killing them to increase the numbers of ‘Subjugated Servants’.

By the time Shion faced me, they had formed an entire battalion.

Even for a hero like Shion, it wasn’t an easy fight.

Over a thousand soldiers died by my hand, and civilian casualties were tenfold.

Thinking of that time made my blood boil again.

“Disgusting wretch.”

Another maid charged.

Her eye sockets were empty.

They once held green eyes as beautiful as seram tree leaves.

Her name was Hes.

A flicker of pity crossed Shion’s eyes.

But it vanished, and his resolve held firm.

The eleven corpse maids rushed at him.

They were stronger than Repit and his forty knights.

As expected of the Great Emperor Continua’s bloodline, their power was astounding, despite my foolishness.

“But that’s all…”

‘The Unclosable Twenty Steps’.

Shion Pollinglight’s second Ars.

The eleven maids couldn’t reach Shion.

A precise distance of twenty steps separated them.

They struggled, unable to comprehend what was happening, desperately trying to close the gap.

Some threw buckets or rags.

Shion dodged them easily.

The intelligence of the corpse maids was proportional to what they had in life.

The limits of uneducated girls were clear.

No matter how strong or fast, they didn’t know how to use it.

Shion sighed and summoned ‘Fantasy Finger’.

Then, he slowly snapped the maids’ necks.

They didn’t even think to flee, so it was easy.

It was pitiful, but they were already dead souls.

After snapping Hes’ neck as well, Shion turned his head.

“Let’s end this, Nebulo.”

“I-I-I…”

“You’ve said enough already.”

I stumbled backward.

A foul stench arose.

Had I wet myself?

Shion’s brow furrowed.

Crawling through my own urine and mud, I finally realized I couldn’t escape.

Or rather, I finally accepted it.

A cry of rage burst out.

“You, you, you, Zionissss-!”

“I told you not to call me that.”

I didn’t back down.

Realizing death was near, there was no point in fleeing.

My fat face was twisted with anger, despair, and tears.

I almost felt pity, but seeing the fallen corpse maids erased that feeling.

“W-worm, Z-Zionis! What makes you so different? What makes you so great-! What are you-!!!”

“True. I’m no different. I’ve got the same filthy blood.”

I hated Cordis.

I despised this empire beyond endurance.

Thus, I, Shion Pollinglight, hated the Fifth Prince Zionis.

I loathed the Cordis imperial blood as much as the blood in my own veins.

A self-mocking laugh escaped me.

That’s why I gave Nebulo a chance.

I knew I wasn’t in a position to judge anyone.

But Nebulo squandered that chance, and now it was time to pay.

“Go to hell first, Nebulo.”

Invisible hands rushed toward me.

As if they’d been waiting for this moment.

I felt dozens of hands strangling my throat.

Their grip was so fierce I couldn’t even groan.

Shion looked down at his dying half-brother.

“I’ll follow you after I grind that golden throne to dust.”

* * *

Looking down at my half-brother’s corpse, I felt a chill.

Something fell on my cheeks and hands.

“…Just when I thought dawn had broken, it’s raining again.”

It wasn’t bad.

I skillfully manipulated the Substitute Doll.

A chunk of flesh similar in size to Nebulo appeared.

I placed it beside his corpse and sprinkled pig’s blood and flesh on it.

A foul smell wafted.

I held the Treasure, ‘Sky Crystal Helm’, in my hand.

Then, using Valziart’s power, I crushed the helm.

Sparkling dust fell over the Substitute Doll’s head.

The shattered Treasure would lend credibility to the ruse that the Fourth Prince Zionis died here.

Cries echoed from all directions.

The Sobel Mountain Range was full of beasts.

They gathered at the scent of blood but didn’t approach, intimidated by my presence.

I gestured to the beasts.

‘Go on, eat.’

As I stepped back a few paces, the beasts pounced on Nebulo’s corpse and the Substitute Doll without hesitation.

The rain started again, so they’d rot quickly, and their forms would become unrecognizable.

Among the beasts were some magical creatures.

They cast hungry glances at me, but seeing me clad in Mana Armor Valziart, they hurriedly averted their eyes.

I looked down at my hand.

Blood was red on my black claws.

The magical creatures had reason to be scared.

I killed Pies Roesti.

He was my first friend, but he betrayed me, so I had no choice.

I killed Nebulo Le Etier.

He was my half-brother, but he was vile, so I had no choice.

I killed Repit and his forty men, deceived Secundus Debius, and now faked my death to leave the Great Imperial Palace of Cordis.

For my destiny, I had no choice.

I climbed a tree.

In the distance, I saw it.

The triple walls, the towering spires, the majestic palace.

The capital, Lutilium, the heart of Cordis.

The symbol of the glorious thousand-year empire.

Unconsciously, I ground my teeth.

“Farewell once more, capital Lutilium.”

Valziart enveloped me and I took the form of a black beast.

The magical creatures were still greedily devouring flesh.

I leaped over them.

The tracks of beastly claws remained.

“I’ll return when I come to tear you down.”

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