Blood finally erupted like a flood from a broken dam, geysering from the severed neck and dyeing the headless body—still frozen in its sword-gripping stance—crimson.
The head rolled across the floor, Gazef's last expression of unbending resolve fixed upon it. His eyes were wide, as if still staring toward the kingdom to which he had sworn his life.
Almost in the same instant, every remaining minister and noble in the hall collapsed into the spreading blood without even the chance to cry out, felled like wheat at harvest.
In a heartbeat, of the former kingdom's people, not a single soul remained alive in that vast hall—save for Rei Ao and the few beside him on the dais.
The reek of blood was so thick it seemed almost tangible. Death lay heavy over every inch of space.
Rei Ao's expression did not change. He didn't so much as glance at the sea of corpses below; he simply spoke, lightly: "Shalltear."
Summoned, Shalltear dropped to one knee at his side, head bowed, her voice steeped in boundless reverence and adoration. "Your subordinate is here, Rei Ao-sama."
"Contact Demiurge," Rei Ao said with the same calm, issuing an order that decided a nation's fate. "Have him come and take over."
"I shall faithfully obey your will," Shalltear answered with deep respect, and her figure slowly melted into the shadows. The throne room sank back into utter silence.
Only Princess Renner leaned against Rei Ao's feet, a rapt, feverish flush on her face. The matter of who owned the throne—the transfer of power—fell to a close in a bizarrely simple way. No negotiations. No compromise. Only the display of absolute strength and the imposition of will.
From that moment, the history of the Re-Estize Kingdom was severed. The old chapter—blood and betrayal, loyalty and sacrifice—ended in haste. A new chapter had already begun.
Rei Ao sat at ease upon the throne that had once belonged to Re-Estize's king. To him, that seat of supreme power was no different from ordinary furniture—merely a place to rest for the moment.
His posture was lazy, casual: one elbow on the armrest, cheek tilted into his palm, while his other hand toyed idly with Princess Renner's lustrous golden hair at his feet as if it were a delicate work of art.
Renner—the former "Golden Princess"—was as docile as a thoroughly tamed cat. Kneeling on the cold floor, heedless of the blood crusting her finery, she pressed her cheek to Rei Ao's knee.
Her eyes brimmed with near-obsessive worship and reliance; the unnatural flush never left her face, as if serving the man before her were the highest pleasure and ultimate purpose her soul could reach. Now and then she even narrowed her eyes and let out a barely audible, satisfied hum.
Rei Ao's lips curved with a faint, playful arc. "Heh…" The soft laugh shattered the stillness, unusually clear—and cold—in the emptiness of the hall. "Come to think of it, have I drifted into playing the textbook villain?"
He paused, twining a lock of Renner's hair around his fingertip, savoring the silk-like feel.
"This feeling… is actually rather amusing."
There was no guilt or unease in his tone, only the detached curiosity of someone trying on a novel role.
"Destroying a kingdom, puppeteering a princess, grinding loyalty to dust—every step seems to be marching toward the exemplar of evil."
"What a curious experience."
His thinking had long since slipped beyond mundane notions of good and evil. To him, this unexpected world—its nations, people, heroes, and demons—was fundamentally no different from a game; only this game was more real, richer in detail, its NPCs' AI more advanced.
"Rule a nation, rule the world… Sounds like a decent pastime." He saw this world as a vast sandbox, an amusement park for his entertainment and exploration. Power, authority, conquest—these were more like achievements and collectibles.
Yet he gave a small shake of the head, an unreadable light flickering in his eyes. "That said, I'm not some 'evil man' who delights in slaughter and ruin," he defined his own logic. "Since this country is in my hand, I should at least look a bit like a king."
"Albedo." He called again.
Albedo drew back her jealous gaze from Renner and bowed with graceful poise. "Rei Ao-sama, your orders?"
Rei Ao's eyes stayed on Renner's hair as he spoke evenly: "Inform Demiurge: when he assumes administration of this country, have him deal with the vermin in its underworld… I believe they're called 'Eight Fingers'?"
"Make them disappear. Since this nation is mine, it's time to tidy up the trash."
The command was offhand. As for the great syndicate Eight Fingers, entrenched for years in the kingdom—there was no assessment, no plan, just a summary judgment: vanish. Not out of justice, but as a declaration of ownership and a demand for cleanliness.
"As you will, Rei Ao-sama," Albedo replied without hesitation. For the Supreme One's orders, she would execute perfectly, without asking why. "Sebas should be quite suitable for this sort of matter," she added helpfully, proposing an executor. Though Rei Ao hadn't specified Sebas, she understood such cleanup would naturally fall to someone with the right skill and temperament.
Rei Ao made a noncommittal sound—acceptance enough. Leaving it to Sebas matched the original storyline well enough. But to him, the process didn't matter; only the result did.
Just then, the rapid clatter of footsteps came from the throne room's shattered doors. A soldier in armor, shaking like a leaf in autumn, stumbled in—and the instant he crossed the threshold he collapsed, prostrating himself on the floor, lacking even the courage to raise his eyes to the throne.