Shwaaa!
Suddenly, as if a hole had ripped open in the dry night sky, a downpour came crashing down.
Atop the ornate roof of Count Felix's grand mansion.
A man in a black mask stood precariously, letting the rain lash his entire body.
His gaze was fixed below his feet.
Directed toward the banquet hall spewing dazzling light.
Leaking through the windows came the nobles' frivolous laughter and
the elegant waltz melody spun by fine string instruments.
Outside, fierce winds and rain raged,
while inside, it was nothing short of paradise on earth.
'Don't these bastards have a conscience?
If the assassin they sent failed, they'd pack up and flee right away. And here they are, throwing a party?'
Darcor swept back his rain-soaked hair and grinned wickedly.
They truly had guts spilling out of their bellies.
Well, they could afford to be so carefree, firmly believing the emperor was nothing but an incompetent puppet.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙[Target confirmed: Count Felix] [Traits: Traitor (S), Greed (A)] [Loyalty: 0] [Current location: Center of the grand banquet hall]
Darcor's red eyes gleamed coldly.
Each thunderclap lit his black silhouette in a flash before it vanished again.
"Time to start the main event."
Without hesitation, Darcor launched himself into the air.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"A toast! To our empire... no, to the new order soon to come!"
Count Felix raised his glass high, filled with red wine.
Greed glistened on his oily face.
Around him gathered nobles with bellies like mountains and men in mismatched attire.
"Are you sure about this, Count? I heard the gift to the palace missed its mark."
One noble asked anxiously, but Felix snorted and waved him off.
"Don't worry. What would that incompetent, tyrannical emperor know?
He's just lucky to have dodged it. If one assassin fails, send another. Simple as that.
He'd never dream it was me behind it."
"Hahaha! Exactly. The incompetent Emperor Darcor knows nothing of governance."
"All he does is chase skirts and guzzle booze. He won't even notice his kingdom being sold out from under him!"
Roaring laughter erupted from the crowd.
The Daroa Empire spy, blended among them, spoke with a cold expression.
"It has to be certain. The Daroa Empire tolerates no failures.
Succeed in this coup, and we'll guarantee the promised territories and titles."
"No need for concern. The emperor's nothing but a puppet."
Count Felix smirked and patted his chest.
"I've got the empire's military deployments and key secrets all memorized.
I'll hand them all over soon enough."
Clink.
The clear chime of crystal glasses filled the hall as the music surged toward its climax.
Ladies' dress hems fluttered like petals, the air thick with the scent of debauchery.
It was in that moment.
Crasssh!
A deafening roar like the sky collapsing struck the banquet hall.
"Kyaaack!"
Screams rang out as the grand ceiling shattered.
The priceless chandelier, adorned with thousands of crystals, plummeted to the floor.
Crash!
Glass shards flew everywhere, and the dancing nobles scrambled in terror, crawling on the ground.
Thick dust billowed, clouding vision.
"W-what is it?! An earthquake?!"
"Guards! Guards!"
The banquet hall descended into pandemonium.
The music cut off, replaced by screams of pure terror.
Then, through the dust cloud, came steady footsteps. Thud, thud.
A black figure emerged from the dispersing haze.
Black clothes sodden with rain, clinging wetly.
And from the edge of the mask, dark red blood dripped steadily.
"W-who are you?! Do you know where you are?!"
Count Felix shouted in a trembling voice.
The black-masked man tilted his head at the cry.
"No invitation."
Darcor waved away the dust and surveyed the room.
"Will crashing the party do?"
"You mad bastard... Kill him! Kill that freak right now!"
The count's shrill scream was the signal.
Rumble!
Private soldiers lurking in the shadows surged forth like a burst dam.
In an instant, dozens of razor-sharp spear tips targeted Darcor's throat.
The soldier captain raised his greatsword and bellowed.
"Kuhahaha! Whoever you are, you've walked right into your grave!
Tear him apart now!"
Dozens of blades and spears charged at Darcor in unison.
A flawless encirclement with no escape.
"Yawn... Your swings are too telegraphed."
But from the encircled man's lips came a lazy yawn.
Darcor stepped forward casually, as if annoyed.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡[Dawn Step activated]
Whoosh!
The world seemed to slow to a crawl.
Darcor's form blurred like mist, slipping between the onslaught of blades.
He dodged an incoming spear with a mere tilt of his head,
snatching the shaft with an outstretched hand.
Crack!
The steel pole snapped like a twig.
Darcor hurled the broken spear straight into the soldier captain's chest.
Splurt!
"Gurk?"
The captain, who had been sneering arrogantly moments ago,
toppled over with eyes wide, not even realizing he was dead.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙[Enemy eliminated.] [Madness Level slightly alleviated.]
This was merely the beginning.
"Argh! My arm, my arm!"
"M-monster! Blades won't stick!"
Darcor danced through them.
Dodging a sword from the left, he snapped the attacker's arm; a rightward lunge met a shattered jaw.
Spraying blood rained onto the chandelier shards.
The nobles huddled in corners, trembling, forgetting their torn finery.
"S-spare me! Please!"
"It's a monster! A monster's here!"
Darcor shook blood from his hands and muttered flatly.
"Shh."
The escort forces were wiped out in under ten minutes.
Darcor stood alone amid the sea of blood in the banquet hall.
"Y-you! Do you know who I am?!"
The Daroa Empire spy, hiding in the corner, staggered to his feet.
He drew a dagger, but his hand shook violently.
The spy screamed in desperation, clinging to his last shred of pride over survival.
"I-I'm a diplomat of the great Daroa Empire!
Touch me, and our empire will hunt you down to the ends of the..."
"Hunt me?"
One corner of Darcor's mouth curled wickedly.
Then he advanced, very slowly, deliberately.
Thud. Thud.
His footsteps squelched through the pooled rainwater and blood.
"Go right ahead. I've been bored lately anyway."
"D-don't come closer! Stay back!"
It happened in a flash.
Darcor's figure vanished from sight, reappearing at the spy's nose.
A massive hand clamped the spy's face like a vise of iron.
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
"And besides."
Darcor's red eyes bored into the spy's terror-stricken ones.
"Since when do we call spies diplomats?"
Crunch.
A gruesome crack of shattering bone, and the spy's body went limp.
Darcor tossed him aside like trash.
Now, only one remained standing in the hall.
Count Felix.
He had collapsed under a lavish chair, urine staining his trousers.
All he had trusted proved worthless before the black monster.
Darcor stripped off his bloodied glove and approached.
"Count Felix."
Darcor crouched to meet the count's eyes.
"That secret ledger you were bragging about earlier, spitting saliva everywhere. Where is it?"
"L-ledger? I-I don't know what you're..."
The count feigned ignorance, but
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙[Tracking target's gaze.]
a system window floated before Darcor's eyes.
The count's pupils flickered faintly toward somewhere, then back.
"Your eyes point to the second-floor study... behind that tacky portrait on the wall?"
"...!"
Horror flooded the count's face.
Mind-reading? Was he a demon?
"Thanks. Thought you were just a big-talking scum with no substance, but your body tells the truth just fine."
Darcor patted the count's shoulder lightly.
"W-what are you?! Who sent you? M-money, I'll give you as much as you want!"
The count gasped, on the verge of collapse.
"You know me well enough. You were cursing me out earlier—still don't recognize me?"
"What..?"
Darcor leaned in close to the count's ear.
And whispered ever so softly.
"Incompetent, tyrannical, and empty-headed..."
In that instant, the count's head jerked awkwardly.
Darcor slowly lowered his black mask.
The revealed face.
The empire's emperor, familiar yet alien, grinned.
"Y-Your Majesty?! N-no, impossible... How could Your Majesty..."
Unbelievable.
The puppet emperor he knew, a monster?
Beyond terror, the inconceivable reality flipped the count's eyes back.
"Like the surprise?"
Darcor raised his mask again and pressed a finger to his lips.
"Shh. Our little secret."
Those were the last words Count Felix heard in this world.
Crunch.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Moments later, Darcor emerged from the study clutching a thick leather ledger and headed to the hall.
He cleared the silver platter that had held the main course.
Then began a very special plating.
Thud. Thud.
The enemy spy's head.
And Count Felix's head.
The two heads sat side by side on the platter,
their wide-eyed, dead faces frozen in sheer horror.
Darcor tore a tablecloth, dipped it in the count's blood, and scrawled boldly.
[The Traitor's End.]
A satisfying work of art.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙[Quest completed: Traitor executed] [Reward: Madness Level greatly reduced & passive skill activated.] [Dawn Step proficiency increased.] [Madness Level fully stabilized.]
"Kuh... Sweet rewards."
Darcor cracked his stiff neck with a pop and smiled.
The madness crushing his mind vanished like it had been washed away, a thrilling vitality surging through his veins.
'This is why I play the tyrant.'
Screeech! Tweet!
The mansion's main gate burst open amid blaring whistles.
The capital guard, finally arriving after a late report.
"All units, advance!"
"Don't move! You're surrounded!"
Hundreds of guards stormed the hall, battering down the doors.
But what they faced was a mountain of corpses carpeting the floor.
And the grotesque feast on the table.
"W-what in the..."
The guard captain gaped at the carnage.
Up above, through the hole in the ceiling.
"You're late. I waited."
Darcor lounged on the railing, chin propped on his hand.
He waved lazily at the milling soldiers below.
"Handle the cleanup. I'm clocking out."
Fwhoosh.
The black shadow rippled like mist into the night sky and vanished.