The Tyrant's Happy Ending - Chapter 13.7

My boss was the most degenerate and broken-hearted person you’ll ever see anywhere in the world. But he wasn’t the kind of trash who would break everything in the room out of anger.

The fact that Lyle was destroying everything in that room and causing a ruckus must mean that all the visuals in there are related to Yernen. And that’s a pretty vicious one at that.

If his guess was right, and that was why Lyle was asking that question… then he was in big trouble.

“As far as I know, there is, there is no such magic.”

Stephin’s voice trembled like an old goat. And, with lightning speed, Lyle grabbed Stephin by the collar.

“If you lie, I will tear out your tongue.”

“Ah, ah, no! Your Majesty! Why would I lie about something like that!”

Stephin spoke with a bewildered expression. Lyle, who could not find any falsehood in his face, roughly released the collar he had been holding tightly.

In fact, he knew it too. Stephin was not the type of guy to lie about something like this. But if he did, then the images he had just seen were all true.

“Sh1t…!”

Boom!

The fist that had been slamming the wall hard trembled and fell powerlessly to the floor.

Lyle thought back to the video he had just seen. In the video, Yernen looked much younger than when he had last seen her three years ago. He seemed to be around the same age as Prince Fortnum, if you ask me.

If that’s the case, then that video was taken before he became emperor.

Her appearance was clearly emaciated from not eating properly, her hair was unkempt and unmanaged, and there were scars all over her body, including her hands and feet, which were clear signs of abuse.

And in Yernen’s eyes there was a deep-rooted fear and resignation, as if he had been treated that way for a very long time.

After learning that the soul inside Prince Fortnum’s body was Yernen, I had been guessing that Yernen’s life had been somewhat uncomfortable. However, this was not the case.

I really never thought I would live a life like this.

I couldn’t breathe properly. I felt excruciating pain as if every organ in my body was being burned by the fires of hell.

‘Why on earth…!’

The ruthless former fiancee who killed his parents and turned him into a war slave. The cruel first love who never replied to a single letter he sent. The mad tyrant who killed his two older brothers, ascended the throne, and created a river of bl00d every day. And… Yernen, who told him she missed him and committed suicide.

Puzzle pieces that didn’t fit together at all.

“sh1t….”

Boom!

Now all the pieces seemed to fit together and take shape. Perhaps this was the ‘truth’ he had been trying to reach all along.

‘Lyle.’

‘Why is that?’

‘…Sorry.’

Now, I think I finally understand the meaning of the apple he gave me on the day of our wedding, the heart contained within it.

“Damn it… .”

I was wandering around the battlefield and had my chest pierced by a sword.

The sensation of flesh being torn apart, bones broken, and muscles being torn apart one by one was excruciating. Lyle had thought that in his entire life, as he pulled out the blade and sewed the raw flesh together, there would be no greater pain. But no.

I had no idea then that my heart could hurt so terribly. The pain was almost comical.

“I’m going back to the Eastern Territory right now.”

The old plan of slowly finding out the situation while being considerate of others is now abandoned. I need to go to Yuris and find out exactly what happened to Yernen right now.

If you refuse to open your mouth, I will torture you to find out.

* * *

Even if you won the battle, the scars didn’t completely disappear. The moment of glory that thrilled your whole body was always short, and what came after was reality.

Torn flagpoles, collapsed buildings, weapons strewn everywhere, messy streets. All of these things remain even after victory.

But wounds eventually heal. And even if scars remain, as time goes by, they are used to reminisce about past glories in a lively atmosphere at a late-night bar.

So, the scars of war were the same. As the traces of the past were erased one by one, they eventually became a past that could be joked about in bars. That was why the people of the Eastern Territory were all busy erasing the traces of the rebels.

People were repairing roads, rebuilding collapsed buildings, and clearing messy streets. And while they were repairing the damage, they were also rebuilding the sculptures that had stood there before the rebels took over.

That’s right, it was a stone tower.

“No, there! The stone is crooked!”

At that remark, the man who had just placed the last stone on top of the stone tower shouted in annoyance.

“Ah! Father! Stop it! This has been going on for hours!”

But despite that nervous voice, people just laughed happily as if they were having fun.

“Just do it roughly!”

“That… won’t work.”

He adjusted the position of the round stone, grumbling with a discontented look on his face.

“Well… I guess that’s not too bad.”

As he said that, Hans raised his wrinkled hand and slowly stroked the stone tower as if it might collapse, then looked at it with hazy eyes.

The stone tower that had been standing there for years disappeared without a trace because the rebels took all the stones, saying they were going to war. It was something that no human could have done, but since they were not human, they could easily do it.

‘They really were not human.’

Hans nodded silently and thought back on the time that had passed.

Those who were called rebels, they were really rotten guys. Even now, and in the past, when this territory, the territory next to it, and the territory next to it were all in their hands, it was no less than that.

When he was young, life wasn’t that hard. The country was peaceful and his family had a decent living.
His grandfather had land guaranteed by the lord to grow wheat, and he and his family, including his father, farmed that land.

The sun always shone just enough on his land, and the rain always fell just enough, so the crops always ripened well.

He and his family, along with their relatives and neighbors, had always lived in peace. This had been true for his grandfather, his great-grandfather, and his father before him, so he naturally assumed his life would follow the same pattern.

Of course, not every day was filled with happiness. There were minor disputes and, at times, serious problems that caused headaches. But if one were to draw the trajectory of life on the ground, with all its highs and lows… it would still show a generally peaceful flow.

Yesterday had been like that, today was the same, so he believed tomorrow would be no different. He lived with such vague thoughts. That’s why he didn’t realize it—peace could be shattered more easily than he ever imagined.

A new emperor had risen to power.

Yet, it brought no particular excitement. It was said that the empire would secure a promise of peace from the gods when the royal family, bearing divine bl00d, ascended to their rightful position… but by that era, even this had become an outdated phrase.

So, for him, the day of the emperor’s coronation was just another day to relax and enjoy his meal without anyone’s reprimand.

He played carefree, unaware that from that day onward, everything would change.

Even as the central government officials overseeing the region began to vanish one by one, replaced by the lord’s relatives, or when taxes slowly increased, or when those around him started falling into the trap of usury one by one.

The changes were so gradual and subtle that he lived like a frog in water that was slowly being heated, never realizing that he was gradually being cooked.

But eventually, the world around him changed so drastically that even he, oblivious as he was, began to sense that something was very wrong.

“Oh, isn’t this a bit too much?”

By the time he uttered those words, everything had already shifted dramatically.

The slowly rising taxes skyrocketed during the war of northern conquest, surpassing half of the annual harvest in no time.
Adding to their troubles, a drought struck. The rain poured for days without end, ruining the crops entirely.

Yet, the lord refused to reduce the taxes, and he and his unsuspecting family were left with no option but to turn to usury to stave off starvation, unaware that it was a path they should never have taken.

From that point, his life unraveled. No matter how hard he toiled, taxes and interest stripped him of everything, leaving nothing behind. Despite relentless efforts, the debt only grew larger. In the end, Hans and his family lost their rights to farm their land and rice paddies to the lord and became serfs.
Even then, the interest on the unpaid principal continued to accumulate. Unable to pay off the newly accruing interest, he found himself trapped in an unending cycle of debt, unable to escape the pit into which he had fallen.

The once plump and healthy body had become thin and gaunt, twisted by hardship, and the warm, gentle demeanor had hardened. The same was true for his neighbors—no one had peace of mind anymore. Everyone was suffering together.

That wasn’t the end of it. The daily news of military defeats made him tremble with anxiety.

The fear that the great empire they had believed in could lose the war—and that they might end up living as slaves in an even more miserable state than the life they currently endured—was overwhelming.

Hans felt increasingly unhappy. It seemed there was always a deeper pit beyond rock bottom. Having once known peace, the fall felt even more brutal and tormenting.

One day, amidst this bleak existence, there came news that the emperor had changed again.

‘What difference does it make?’

He believed that his miserable life, which had persisted for nearly a decade, would continue unchanged.

‘No, it might even get worse.’

There was a reason for this dark thought. The new emperor was rumored to be the worst yet.

According to tales from traveling storytellers and minstrels, the new emperor was truly despicable.

He was the youngest prince of the previous emperor and was said to have suffered from a terrible affliction—nymphomania—which drove him to nightly orgies with both men and women. The former emperor, unable to tolerate his son’s debauchery, had him confined to a tower and exiled.

Yet, even banishment didn’t quell his madness. The stories claimed that the prince, driven by his insatiable condition, lost control once more, escaped from the tower, assaulted his sister-in-law, murdered his two elder brothers, and took the throne by force. It was even said that, after ascending to the throne, he would indulge himself so excessively with his personal knight that the bed sheets were left stained with bl00d. He was an unthinkably degenerate and unfilial son, an embarrassment to the imperial lineage.

Hans was convinced that this widely feared tyrant would eventually lead the empire to ruin.

Minstrels roamed the region, singing alarming ballads about the new emperor’s misdeeds, and children on the streets would pick up and chant these ominous songs. Listening to these lyrics, Hans’s anxiety and despair deepened.

The life he had lived thus far had already been hard and painful enough. And there was no sign it would get better. In such circumstances, Hans even thought it might be better to end it all, perhaps together with his family, rather than continue in endless misery.