The Tyrant's Pet

"Was it worth it?"

Roman slowly turned around while holding his breath when he heard Joaquin's voice. However, as soon as he did, the latter was already standing a step behind him, and without a moment's notice, Roman's feet left the ground as a hand clutched his neck.

Roman held on to Joaquin's wrist on instinct, looking at the emperor in disbelief. Joaquin was strangling him with one hand and without exerting effort.

Joaquin's lips curled up evilly, wiping the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth with the back of his fist. "Yes, Rome. Isn't this the strongest proof of that? I regret nothing."

As soon as those words slipped past Joaquin's lips, Roman barely grasp the situation as the grip around his neck tightened. His complexion turned red, watching two fangs grow from Joaquin, and the blood dripping from his stomach slowly stopped.

'No!' Roman panicked, struggling from Joaquin's grip. But unlike earlier, where they almost bore equal strength, Joaquin was now a hundred times stronger. Despite the deep stab wounds that went through his stomach to his back, he was able to lift a grown man with one hand without breaking a sweat.

They were late; he thought. Joaquin had already morphed successfully and became undead.

Watching Roman's realization appear in his eyes brought a smirk to Joaquin's face. "Yes, Rome. Did you really think I will execute Ismael publicly and lure you out without a card in my sleeve?" he chuckled in ridicule, clicking his tongue continuously.

"You had worked under me for years, Rome. Years. It was even more surprising how you, my vassal, hadn't known how I plan things." The sense of pride and arrogance reeked in Joaquin's voice, tilting his head as he tightened his grip around Roman's neck, enough for the latter to slowly suffocate and hear him until the very end. "You played your roles perfectly, Rome. Just perfectly."

"Victors writes the history. I knew what you all planned to write in yours, but do you want to hear how I'd write mine?" his smirk stretched even broader, eyelids drooping, but not enough to hide the contempt in them. "What history will tell to later generations is, upon the succession of the 36th emperor, Joaquin, the evil third prince, the corrupted church, the traitorous seventh prince, and this rebellious group called Valiente conspired to overthrow the throne for their own greed."

"They had killed ruthlessly, innocent and royalties, bringing unnecessary mayhem and bloodshed. But with the royal knights and the people of Maganti, they were able to uproot the evil. Because of this, the Maganti had stood even greater than before," he added with a satisfied smile. "Isn't it a good story?"

Joaquin chuckled, watching blood shoot up to Roman's head. His smirk persisted and then an idea cross him just to ridicule Roman.

"Don't worry, Rome," he crooned, danger lurking within his eyes. "I will make sure Violet will follow you to hell... hopefully, her destination is hell, since our good Princess Violet is too kind for that place. Wasn't she an angel for you? Haha... but I know ways to make her go straight to hell."

"After all... heavens don't open their gates to impure souls, right? I'll make sure to taint her until hell is the only place she can go to." The side of his lips stretched even broader while Roman grunted and struggled under his grip. "I'm unlike you, Rome. I still want you to have a happy ending; it might not be in this lifetime, but at least in the afterlife."

SNAP!

"Rome!!!"

Suddenly, Ismael, who just arrived in the corridor, saw Roman's raised figure a palm length above the floor. His breath hitched. Although he couldn't see Joaquin as he hadn't crossed the threshold, Ismael's mind already came up with the bigger picture of the scene he walked into.

Without thinking twice, Ismael took a step forth but immediately stopped when the faint sound of bone snapping pierced the air. His eyes instantly went huge, watching Roman's body collapse lifelessly on the floor with a thud.

"Rome..." Ismael's heart sank, frozen on the spot, eyes on Roman's unmoving figure. Seeing Roman fall was akin to taking another piece of the third prince's heart.

Ismael was once again a step behind and a second late. Even though deep in his heart, he was certain he wouldn't stand a chance against Joaquin in a duel, Ismael wanted to believe if he was there and fought with Roman, they had a higher chance of survival.

But obviously, Roman found Joaquin first and now... he was gone.

A tear rolled down Ismael's cheek, coming from anger and disappointment. He slowly raised his head as a figure walked over Roman's body. Ismael ground his teeth as he gripped his sword tightly until it trembled. He wasn't even surprised at the fangs Joaquin was displaying, nor was he fazed at the dark shroud exuding behind Joaquin's.

All Ismael felt was anger, dismay, and a strong will to take him down. This monster of an emperor was more than just out of control. He wasn't just mad, but he deserved to be damned and burn in the fiery fire of hell forever.

"Joaquin..." Ismael's voice shook, grinding his teeth. "I will kill you."

Joaquin smirked as he quickly sized Ismael from head to toe. "How cute." He let out a dry laugh, not really interested in fighting him.

With this surge of power traveling throughout his body and Joaquin's heightened senses, he could sense that many had already morphed. Some ministers failed and died in the process, but that was alright. He could feel Javier's life force and he had succeeded.

In his eyes, Ismael looked like a small fry. Killing Roman was even more exciting since the seventh prince never let go of his domineering aura until the end.

"Ismael, have you seen my wife?" he asked out of plain curiosity, since dragging her back was more important than fighting Ismael. His brow arched when Ismael let out a dry laugh, eyes full of ridicule.

"I can't believe you will still look for her even when she vomited you multiple times," Ismael mocked in amusement. "Don't you have pride, Joaquin? How can you squeeze yourself into her when it is clear no matter what you do, she will never accept you willingly?"

"You are pathetic, Joaq --" Ismael's breath hitched as his pupils went large. He didn't even blink, but it was as though Joaquin leaped through space and was now standing to his side leisurely. Slowly, he turned his head to the side, only to see Joaquin smirking at him.

Boogsh!

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