In the Ryan Imperial Capital, the obituary of Rachel Angelo had reached the emperor.
Having read the account, the young Ryan Emperor furiously crumpled the paper into a ball.
"Damn undead! He should never have been granted an imperial pardon in the first place, or this wouldn't have happened!"
Rachel Angelo had been the general most supportive of the Ryan royal family, holding the highest rank and greatest influence among royalist sympathizers.
With Rachel Angelo dead, the royalists had lost a key general.
The emperor had intended to use the war against the Unholy Hymn to step out into the forefront—no longer a puppet emperor, but a great ruler wielding genuine power.
Yet before the fighting had even officially begun, Rachel Angelo was already dead?!
Would people blame the emperor for this?
No, he absolutely could not let that happen. What he urgently needed right now was a scapegoat... No, wait, why a scapegoat? It was never his fault to begin with! It was that lich, and that traitor Alan Watson!
Yes! Alan Watson had conspired with the lich to murder Rachel Angelo. And the imperial pardon had been issued by James Watson! It must have been the whole family working together to kill Rachel Angelo!
There was no doubt about it; no discussion was needed at all—just convict them on the spot!
Yet James Watson was the Supreme Arbiter. Under Ryan's laws, he was the ultimate interpreter of the legal code. Trying someone of his stature would involve a mind-bogglingly intricate procedure.
The young emperor pondered for a moment and muttered to himself, "First, leak the news. When that happens, all of Ryan will demand an explanation from this Supreme Arbiter. A little stoking, and public sentiment will tear him apart completely. Now, all I need is..."
Just as he was scheming how to deal with that stubborn, unbending old man, an announcement came: the Supreme Arbiter requested an audience.
The young emperor jumped in fright.
"Did that old bastard guess I was plotting against him?"
Even though the advantage seemed to be his, the young emperor still harbored a lingering dread of James Watson.
Ever since taking the throne, he had been humiliated and put in his place by James Watson more than once. That was precisely why he loathed the unyielding old man so bitterly and wished for nothing more than to replace him immediately.
With a guilty conscience and a cowardly fear of being questioned by James Watson, the young emperor couldn't help but want to refuse the audience.
He couldn't see him now. At least not until public opinion fermented and everyone spat upon the old man; only then would he have the courage to face him.
To the young emperor's surprise, however, James Watson seemed to have anticipated this. Upon being refused, he simply had an attendant deliver a letter to the emperor.
Looking at the envelope in his hand, the young emperor asked in puzzlement, "Did that old man say anything besides delivering this letter?"
Kneeling before the young emperor, the attendant answered cautiously, "Nothing, Your Majesty. Lord Supreme Arbiter simply turned and walked away."
Full of suspicion, the young emperor opened the letter, thinking that no matter what the old man wrote, the blame would definitely be pinned on him.
Yet after reading it, the young emperor was so shocked he thought he had fallen under a charm spell. But even after reading it over and over, there was nothing wrong with it.
The letter was only a few sentences long.
James Watson had decided to resign from his position as Supreme Arbiter, go into self-imposed exile, and leave Ryan.
The stated reason was that Alan had committed treason and was suspected of causing the death of Rachel Angelo; continuing to serve as Supreme Arbiter while being his father invited suspicion of harboring a criminal, so someone impartial had to oversee the trial.
This reasoning fully aligned with the old man's usual conduct.
The law was supreme, leaving no room for self-interest or compromise.
The resignation was completely logical, yet the young emperor could hardly believe it.
Would that old man really give up the post of Supreme Arbiter so easily? Nobody would believe it.
Regardless, with this letter in hand, the young emperor held all the cards. Schemes or not, he could now legitimately install one of his own men.
The young emperor spread the news across the imperial capital as fast as possible. He even had someone draft a "heartfelt" letter urging James to stay, which he read aloud with deep emotion when announcing Watson's resignation.
This was meant to show everyone that he, the emperor, had certainly not forced the resignation. He had done his "utmost" to persuade him to stay, but the former Supreme Arbiter had repeatedly refused his pleas before departing on his own accord.
He had even wanted to hold a farewell banquet, since the old man had dedicated so many years of hard work to the empire and deserved a grand send-off.
Unfortunately, the old man had already left Ryan.
The young emperor further declared with resolute conviction that he would not let Alan's treason implicate his family; Alan's brothers, sisters, and other relatives would not be held accountable.
The Ryan populace loudly praised the emperor's mercy while cursing the Watson family ten thousand times in their hearts.
To raise a traitorous son, this Supreme Arbiter had to be rotten too.
This was precisely what the young emperor wanted to see. He had dispatched agents early on to spread such rumors, intending to ensure James Watson could never return.
Now that his objective was accomplished, the Supreme Arbiter could be replaced. As for the candidate, he could take his time deciding, letting a deputy fill in temporarily until he chose the right person.
Everything seemed perfect. The death of an imperial general had been overshadowed by the Supreme Arbiter's resignation; the storm of public scrutiny that should have erupted quickly dispersed, turning into universal contempt for the Watson family.
Yet no matter how neatly these surface matters were resolved, the young emperor still had to face one critical question:
Rachel Angelo was dead; what should be done about the war with the Unholy Hymn?
A truce? That seemed like a very sensible choice.
However, if they paused now, who knew when the next opportunity to invade the Unholy Hymn would come? Once everyone calmed down and forgot about the scapegoat James Watson, their suspicions might turn back toward the young emperor.
When that time came, discordant notes might well creep into all that praise.
Faced with such a major decision, the young emperor wanted someone to consult, only to discover with a shock that he didn't have a single person to turn to.
Back when James Watson was around, the young emperor hadn't minded talking with him.
The old man was stubborn, but the young emperor trusted that his advice was devoid of personal gain. All of Ryan knew that in all his years of service, the Supreme Arbiter had never given anyone cause for doubt—except for his son.
Even if he received sarcastic replies, the young emperor hadn't minded listening to the old man; at the very least, it offered a valuable perspective.
Now that James Watson was gone, the young emperor realized he lacked even a single confidant.
Having been emperor for so long, and always as a puppet, finding someone with whom he could discuss serious matters proved extraordinarily difficult.
After agonizing over it for half a day, the young emperor had no choice but to slip once more into the palace crypt and seek out those old men lying in coffins.
They had all entered deep dreams to reduce their bodily consumption to the bare minimum, barely clinging to life while keeping their minds clear.
The Ryan royal bloodline could not prolong its lifespan, so the elders could only linger on in this manner. It was also from them that the young emperor had previously obtained permission to use the Dragon Tyrant Armament. Although he didn't know why those old relics had suddenly agreed to let him wield it, it had nevertheless granted him the power to step onto the grand stage.
Now that the empire faced a great turning point, the young emperor had no choice but to question those old relics once again.
Special attendants channeled the young emperor's query into the dream. These attendants were themselves of royal blood; all of them had previously been tested for resonance with the Dragon Tyrant Armament, and upon failing, had been trained in spells for dream communication and sent here to care for these old living corpses.
Before long, the elders returned a simple answer: Continue the war against the Unholy Hymn.
The young emperor wanted to ask why, but the attendant refused him.
Every response to a question from reality placed a burden on those old relics; asking again might be more than they could endure.
Helpless, the young emperor could only grit his teeth and leave the crypt.
Those old relics were always like this, treating him as a mere puppet meant only to follow orders.
"Once I reclaim full control over the empire, I'll dig every last one of you old bastards out! Let's see if you dare be so disrespectful to me once you're awake!"
Though he had received only a conclusion devoid of rationale, the young emperor had no choice for now but to comply.
Continuing the campaign against the Unholy Hymn wasn't a major issue. Losing one general just meant redeploying another from elsewhere. Once he unleashed the Dragon Tyrant Armament himself, victory would be guaranteed.
Ryan began redeploying its forces, and troop movements on such a scale could not be concealed.
The Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn received word quickly enough, but the tieflings likely had no time to worry about it.
In the royal capital where singing never ceased, Domino Lawley and the other twelve Unholy Ones stared grimly at the report before them.
Written upon it were not the troop movements of the Ryans, but the rumors that had recently cropped up within the Unholy Hymn.
The Council of Iniquity had signed a pact with a hell lord, selling out the entire kingdom in exchange for sparing themselves from torment and becoming nobles of Hell.
The report contained few specifics, reading like fabricated street gossip.
Yet every member of the Council of Iniquity knew it was no lie.
Domino Lawley stood up in fury, smashing the table before her to splinters with a single fist.
"Who leaked the information?!"
Domino Lawley swept a piercing glare across the other twelve Unholy Ones, but none of them flinched. They showed only contemplation, astonishment, and concern.
These reactions were entirely normal; after all, their greatest secret had been laid bare.
Unable to detect any flaws in their expressions, Domino Lawley knitted her brows tightly.
An elderly tiefling beside her spoke up: "Domino, we are all participants in this plan. None of us would leak the news beforehand; doing so would only send us to Hell ahead of time. This is not the moment to point fingers. We must consider how to respond."
Domino Lawley fell silent for a moment before replying, "You are right. But how do we resolve this?"
For now, the rumor was circulating only among certain upper-echelon circles and nobles. Though not widely spread, it aligned perfectly with the current military situation.
Ryan watched hungrily, poised to invade at any moment, and there were ample traces of Hell within the kingdom. Anyone who investigated with intent would soon uncover clues. Even if they couldn't verify the rumor, it would only deepen their suspicions.
How could one counter a rumor that happened to be true?
Someone suggested, "Issue a proclamation. Regardless of whether it works, declare first that nothing is amiss."
Domino Lawley shook her head. "Pointless. They aren't commoners. Those who know of this are nobles, most of them lords of different cities."
"Stall as long as we can. Ryan is about to invade anyway. Once the war begins, everything will be set in stone. By then, it will be too late for them to ask questions."
That was indeed a feasible suggestion, so long as they kept things quiet for a time. But when would Ryan invade? Word was they had just lost a general; if they abandoned the war, stalling would be useless.
They, the Unholy Ones, had sacrificed the entire kingdom just so a select few could gain immunity from torment in Hell. If word got out, people might very well rebel, destroy the Gates of Hell, and cast these high-and-mighty nobles into Hell instead.
It was useless to argue that people would die all the same if Ryan invaded; the vast majority wouldn't look that far ahead—they would simply choose rebellion first.
"We must proceed along three fronts," Domino said. "Not only must we claim that nothing has happened, but we also must investigate the exact situation in Ryan, and finally... find whoever spread this rumor!"
Domino Lawley now harbored pure hatred for whoever had leaked the rumor; she wished she could turn that person into a specimen right now.
The meeting ended swiftly. Rubbing her aching temples, Domino Lawley returned to her chambers.
Yet the moment she stepped inside, she caught sight of a white-haired elder.
Domino Lawley gasped in surprise, "Misfortune, is that you?"
The old man who had been waiting here well in advance was naturally Mister Misfortune. Looking upon the still-graceful woman before him, he smiled and said, "Domino, long time no see."
Tensing, Domino Lawley stepped back, ready at any moment to call for the guards.
Though she was a legend, she had lived in luxury for years and had not traded blows with anyone in a very long time. Now she was an alchemist, a ruler of a kingdom, no longer the Hellrider of old.
Because of ideological differences, Mister Misfortune had repeatedly disrupted their efforts to construct the Gates of Hell. He had long been branded a traitor and placed on the wanted list.
His sudden appearance filled Domino Lawley with profound unease.
Yet no matter what hand signals she made to the guards outside the door, they remained completely unresponsive, as if blind to her gestures.
Mister Misfortune smiled gently. "Do not be nervous, Domino. I did not come to assassinate you. And do not waste your breath; for the rest of this day, no one will see either of us."
Domino Lawley refused to believe him and tried to flee, only to find that no matter how hard she tried, she could not leave the room.
"I told you, it is useless. Domino, I came here only to tell you one thing." Mister Misfortune walked up to Domino Lawley and said, "I am the one who spread the rumor. I know all about your deal with Hell."
Domino Lawley's eyes widened in shock. "How did you find out?!"
Mister Misfortune shook his head. "That is not important. I only want to tell you that I will save this kingdom, but I cannot save you. Domino, I once loved you. Back then, you were as dazzling to me as the sun in the sky. But now, I must destroy everything you have planned. The Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn will not fall into Hell, but you will. You and your shameless companions will all go to Hell.
"Now, I can grant you one chance. Among your descendants, you may choose one to be spared. That is the only thing I can do for you. Domino, make your choice."
Chapter 338