Chapter 2.1

Chapter 2.1

Fear flared again as his red pupils slowly swept over her, like a predator eyeing its prey. But Rosette tried her best to appear composed, pulling out the secret weapon she had prepared.

“Yes, that’s right. If Your Majesty wishes, you could take me right here, right now. But…”

His brow twitched slightly as he looked at her. It was a gesture for her to continue.

“You wouldn’t be a perfect emperor.”

The moment her words ended, he burst into boisterous laughter.

‘What was so amusing?’

His loud, unrestrained laughter resembled that of an innocent boy, creating a momentary sense of incongruity.

After laughing heartily for a long while, he abruptly stopped, his expression reverting to its previous indifference. No, it was even sharper, more chilling than before. The sudden shift was like encountering a different person, and a wave of tension instantly permeated the tent.

“I am already perfect, and my country is robust. I expand its territory every day. Anything that stands in the way of my future, I kill or destroy. And in the future… I don’t expect that to change.”

A chill ran through Rosette’s body at his cold tone and frigid expression. But the more she felt it, the straighter she held her back. She was a proud Hersian and the kingdom’s only princess. Her pupils shimmered with such unusual brilliance that they instantly captured his gaze.

“I’m not just saying this. I can… fill the one thing Your Majesty lacks.”

“How can a princess possibly do that?”

“Instead of explaining it with words, I will show Your Majesty directly.”

After speaking, Rosette pressed her lips together firmly and strode purposefully towards a certain spot. She stopped beside the chair where he had just been cleaning his sword.

His sword, a terrifying sight. An extraordinary sharpness emanated from its blade, which must have tasted hundreds, thousands of lives. Just looking at it sent goosebumps across her skin.

But Rosette, boldly grasping the sword’s hilt, simply closed her eyes.

To dare draw the Emperor’s sword in front of him. His brows furrowed slightly, clearly not having anticipated her action.

His legendary sword, infused with magic, followed its master. An ordinary person would struggle even to lift it. All the more so for a woman.

He might have been expected to stop her sudden peculiar act, yet he merely watched. The reason was simple: he felt no need to deter her audacious movements. That was all. And within his red eyes, there was undoubtedly a hint of curiosity, wondering how this brazen woman would overcome such a challenge.

He had no idea what she was doing. To hold a weapon that even seasoned knights hesitated to approach and seemingly meditate with it was truly baffling.

Suddenly, Rosette’s brow furrowed without explanation.

She appeared to be concentrating on something unseen, and her demeanor felt unfamiliar.

Her seemingly uncomfortable expression soon captivated Theodore’s gaze. His initial surprise at her strange behavior lasted only a moment before something astonishing began to unfold.

The blood-stained blade of his sword gradually began to reveal its original color. Though only her touch had graced it, his sword astonishingly quickly regained its true hue, returning to its initial gleaming blue luster, completely free of the bloodstains that had covered it moments before. At this bizarre, unprecedented sight, his expression subtly shifted.

“Is this a trick?”

Rosette, wiping the sweat from her forehead, gasped for breath as she answered his question.

“No, it isn’t.”

At Rosette’s reply, he had already moved close, snatching the sword from her hand.

His sword, which had remained stubbornly still in Rosette’s grip, was now wielded like a toy in his. It was a moment that brought home the reality of his power once more. His eyes, as he casually brandished the sword with an indifferent expression, were sharper than any finely honed blade. Despite the small movement, his commanding posture exuded the aura of a swordsman who had conquered countless battlefields.

‘She didn’t chant, so it’s not magic either.’

It was truly an unprecedented sight. A hint of interest sparked in his piercing gaze as he scrutinized the blade. After thoroughly examining the sword, he fixed his sharp stare on Rosette, as if to say he would tolerate no deception.

His eyes seemed to pierce straight through her intentions. Rosette’s shoulders involuntarily hunched. She clenched her trembling hands tightly, trying to hide them.

“It’s… not magic.”

He was a man whose seemingly languid eyes concealed a fierce storm. His pupils, as he looked at her, were utterly calm, yet that stillness only intensified the fear she felt. Rosette’s heart pounded under his gaze, which threatened to swallow everything. In response to his next question, she spoke with defiant confidence.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s called a ‘supernatural ability’.”