Became the Emperor of the Demon Realm Empire Chapter 16

Became the Emperor of the Demon Realm Empire

Chapter 16: Sacred Duel and the Bald One Who Wasn’t

Gideon lifted his heavy eyelids.  

The audience chamber was dark and desolate.  

Slumped on the lonely throne, he sat askew. 

He didn’t know why. 

He had simply opened his eyes and found himself here.  

“Cough.”  

He tried to rise but stopped.  

The bleeding was severe. 

Despite being grievously wounded to the point of immobility, his wounds had been left untreated for some reason.  

Gideon traced back his memories.  

He recalled being supported by soldiers as he headed toward the inner castle. 

After that, his memories cut off like a broken film.  

……Who had brought him here?  

……Where had all the soldiers gone?  

“Is there no one outside…?”  

Gideon spoke as if exhaling his last breath.  

Even as blackened blood trickled from the corner of his mouth down to his chest, there was no one to wipe it away.  

Summoning the faintest remnants of his strength, he spoke again.  

“Call anyone. Where are my children… my sons…?”  

KRRRUMBLE…… 

Thunder growled in the sky. 

The stained-glass ceiling of the audience chamber shimmered like jewels.  

He closed his eyes briefly against the encroaching tide of pain, then opened them again.  

A blurred figure swayed into view like a ghost.  

“Who… is it…?”  

Soon, the figure began walking toward him.  

It was Angela. 

His daughter was stepping across the long red carpet, approaching the throne.  

Angela was not carrying a baby.  

Instead, she held something in her hand.  

“Angela….”  

“Yes, Father.”  

Her voice, heard through his fading consciousness, was heartbreakingly sorrowful. 

For some reason, the voices of his sons who should have been with her were absent.  

He muttered words that might have been to himself.  

“Request reinforcements… from the Kingdom of Lodeland….”  

“It’s already too late.”  

Gideon tried to look at Angela, but his vision was dark. 

Having lost too much blood, the floor seemed to ripple slowly beneath him.  

“The fallen fortress… can be retaken. Rebellion won’t fall so easily….”  

“Just admit it. Rebellion is over. In your hands. In the most foolish way possible.”  

“……”  

“Because of the glory you shouted about, so many will die. Me. And the baby.”  

“Angela….”  

“So, Father. Even now, it’s not too late.”  

Angela spoke in a trembling voice.  

The sound of her approaching footsteps echoed in his ears.  

“For once… do something worthy of a father.”  

“──!”  

Then, something cold pierced Gideon’s chest.  

“…From now on, I will lead Rebellion.”  

Gideon tried to speak, but his breath failed him. 

His body stiffened rapidly, and soon, even his thoughts grew numb.  

……He smelled tears.  

……His daughter’s voice seemed to drift from afar.  

“Please remain… as a grandfather my child can be proud of.”  

KWAARUMBLE—!  

Lightning flashed beyond the stained-glass windows of the audience chamber.  

The patterns of the glass cast light upon the tragic scene of murder.  

“……”  

In the darkness, the crimson glow of a girl’s watching eyes slowly faded.  

……Rebellion had fallen into the hands of the Demon Empire.  

***

The Orc Warchief, Kalzit  

After conquering the Demon Realm, I had never met him separately, but back when I was leading dungeons, he was one of the few demons I could actually talk to.  

He was a superior being who knew how to rule through strength in their society. 

He cared for his kin, and his intelligence was exceptional among orcs, making him an idol-like figure.  

“Kuh…”  

……And now, that very same orc…  

……was being controlled by someone else’s hand.  

“Grrrrrrrrrrr──!!”  

A roar, like a curse, shook the heavens.  

A steel mask covered his mouth.  

A massive double-bladed axe, fitting for his towering frame.  

And on top of that, bulging muscles so grotesque they seemed to suck in anything that touched them.  

All of it matched the warchief I remembered, yet now, he had lost his reason and was rampaging madly.  

The king of a nation, once revered by his orc kin, now ruled as a tyrant.  

“Ron! Here he comes!”  

Leticia shouted, adopting a defensive stance.  

Before I knew it, the warchief had leaped into the air, raising his axe high to crush my skull.  

“……”  

I swung my greatsword, deflecting his axe.  

Caught off guard by the unexpected parry, the warchief was flung back, struggling to regain his footing. 

But in truth, this duel was an impossible fight from the start.  

For orcs, who knew nothing of magic, combat was purely a contest of strength.  

And I was confident I wouldn’t be outmatched in that regard.  

“…Leticia. Do you know of orc traditions?”  

Seizing the moment while the warchief hesitated, I asked quietly.  

As Leticia hesitated in confusion, Lorian raised his hand abruptly.  

Ignoring him, I continued.  

“Orcs value honor more than life. Perhaps even more than you, as the Hero, revere the gods.”  

Leticia blinked up at me, completely lost.  

“We cannot face the entire orc army alone.”  

“That’s not true. Ron, you defeated the Demon Lord Amon. And I—”  

“Even if we fought together, we might barely defeat the orcs by tomorrow noon. With the Hero’s divine protection allowing resurrection, we might get lucky.”  

“……”  

“But do you think the orc army would just stand and watch? While we fight, the people of Rebellion would be slaughtered.”  

Leticia’s brow furrowed, her lips trembling without reply.  

Of course, for an immortal who valued others’ safety over her own, this reasoning was more effective.  

“I will challenge the warchief to a ‘Mak’gora’. A sacred and honorable duel among orcs. To refuse is to be branded a coward. Their leader will have no choice but to accept.”  

“…I can’t accept this. In the end, everyone will still die.”  

“No. While the duel takes place, the orcs cannot advance on the inner castle. Their traditions demand it be witnessed by all, making it sacred.”  

Leticia’s pupils trembled violently.  

I placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke.  

“I will tie down their leader. You must inform the Kingdom of Lodeland of what’s happening here.”  

A moment of silence fell, as solemn as the tears welling in Leticia’s eyes.  

Among the soldiers, a heavy stillness lingered.  

Lorian bit his fist, stifling sobs.  

“The fate of Rebellion rests in your hands.”  

“……”  

“Go. Now.”  

I pushed Leticia away.  

Staggering weakly, she wiped away a tear and pressed a fist to her chest in salute.  

“…You must survive.”  

“I’ve lived through worse battlefields. Don’t worry about me. Just go.”  

“May the gods’ protection be with you…”  

With those final words, Leticia ran. 

Soon, the soldiers and Lorian followed.  

And just like that, they were all gone.  

“Kuh! Kuh!”  

Meanwhile, the warchief, seeing the fleeing humans, snorted like an enraged beast.  

I drew my greatsword from the ground and pointed it at him.  

“Kalzit. If I challenge you to Mak’gora, will you accept?”  

“……”  

“Of course, you hesitate.”  

“Kuh! Kuh!”  

“And why wouldn’t you…? You’ve never once beaten me.”  

“Grrrrrrrrrr──!!”  

In that instant, the warchief charged like a raging tide.  

The ground upheaved with each thunderous step, shaking the earth itself.  

“……”  

As I focused, time seemed to slow.  

The moment the warchief reached me, swinging his axe I raised my greatsword to.

CLANG—!  

“…?”  

I stopped mid-swing.  

The bloodthirsty warchief had been struck in the temple by a flying golden helmet and collapsed instantly.  

It was perhaps the clearest, most refreshing sound I’d heard in 300 years.  

“Your Majesty!!”  

“……”  

I recognized this voice.  

A grating, childish whine.  

The first syllable was deep and masculine, but by the last, a strange vibration made it unbearably unsettling.  

“Captain Bomin-dae of the Royal Guard! I have come from the distant Demon Continent to serve Your Majesty!”  

Kneeling, the captain bowed his head, revealing his purple scalp, then suddenly looked up at me.  

“……”  

If the warchief’s eyes were deranged, this guy’s gleamed with the purity of distilled madness—only worse.  

“You wretches! This is the presence of His Imperial Majesty! Drop your weapons at once!”  

The orcs stirred.  

As the Royal Guard leveled their spears, the orcs disarmed and surrendered.  

“Hmm…?”  

Meanwhile, the captain eyed the fallen warchief.  

Noticing something amiss, he tilted his head in confusion.  

Then, clearing his throat, he declared:  

“You are not slaves──!!”  

“……!”  

At the captain’s shout, the orcs’ eyes welled with tears.  

‘Bullshit.’  

I smacked the bald head before me.  

WHAP! WHAP!  

The crisp sound was satisfying. 

At least one thing here was to my liking.