Chapter 60 Three Centuries of Empty Smiles

“There’s no mask here, no secret plot. Just a survivor, one I couldn’t leave to die. It’s nothing so grand, grandfather. Just a girl who lost her home in the attack. Monsters tore her village apart. When I found her, she was half-buried under rubble, barely breathing. I pulled her out and brought her back with me.”

Arthur let out a long sigh, the kind that carried more weight than shouting ever could. 

“Ahhh… Rein, Rein, Rein, my dear boy. Why did I even bother asking? It’s Aura, isn’t it? Who else could it be? The first Demon Lord herself, walking under my roof. Finally managed to poison your mind too.”

Then, for the first time, a thin smile curved his lips.

 “But I must hand it to you, my dear Aura. Of all the Heroes who came the closest. You even managed to turn my grandson against me. And that... that leaves me uncertain whether I should be impressed… or furious.”

The illusion broke apart in static noise, fading in pale light until Aura stood revealed in her true form, the Demon Lord herself. 

“Yes, It’s me, Arthur. No more disguises. No more illusions. I am here to end this. Your schemes, your twisted games—you’ve gone far enough. Rein knows everything now. What you’ve done. What you’ve been hiding. And we—we’ve come to stop you.”

“He knows… the truth?” Arthur repeated slowly, “About my kingdom? About what keeps it strong? Tell me, Aura—was it you? Did you poison his ears with your half-truths and righteous venom? You expect me to believe that my grandson—the heir I raised, the boy I groomed to stand above all others—would cast aside blood and crown on the word of the Demon Lord? Listen lies of a Demon Lord?! No. Rein is not a fool. He knows lies when he hears them.”

“It was me.”

All eyes snapped toward the doorway to the king's private room, where shadows clung deep. A figure stood there, half-veiled in darkness.

“I told Rein everything.”

 It was Liora. The glasses she always used to hide behind were gone. She let them all see the full, brutal truth of her face—the scar tissue that marred her face, a permanent prof of king’s cruelty. 

“You took everything from me, Arthur. You took my freedom. My face. My kingdom. And when I finally found something to live for… you took him, too. No more. You will take nothing else from me.”

She took a final step, now fully in the room. Her voice dropped into a whisper that was more terrifying than any shout.

“It is time for you to lose everything you have lived for these past three hundred years. You took Kael from me. Now… I take your precious kingdom from you.”

Arthur's eyes darted from Liora’s scarred face to the open doorway behind her—his private announcement chamber, where the kingdom-wide communication orb lay active.

He rose from his throne so fast the heavy chair was sent flying back, blowing a hole in the wall.

“You witch! What did you do?!”

“I didn’t do much at all, Arthur, I simply showed people who you are. I let your people see what their beloved king truly is. No lies. No masks. Just you. Now it isn’t just Rein who knows the truth. Every man, woman, and child in your kingdom is hearing it. They’re hearing you. And once they see with their own eyes… once they watch your grandson stand against you… they’ll know. The age of your lies is over.”

Rein stepped forward.

 “Grandfather… stop this madness! It’s over. No one will follow you now. Step down from the throne and atone for your crimes. You still can—”

But Arthur didn’t hear him. His eyes were locked on Liora. Rein’s words died on his lips as the king shouted.

“You damn witch! I should have wiped you out along with your miserable kingdom!”

With a swing of his arm, the very foundations of the castle trembled. Stone and timber exploded outward, the roof exploding in a thunderous boom. The back half of the throne room disintegrated into a cascading storm of rubble, shards of marble and timber raining down like a meteor shower onto the town.

Arthur’s hand slashed through the air again. The thick cloud of dust vanished in an instant, blasted clear to reveal the ruin of what had been his private chambers.

 Liora lay withing the wreckage, blood on her face. But before her flickered the remains of a barrier—fragile, fractured, and crumbling into sparks. Behind that fading shield, the announcement crystal still stood, untouched. Protected.

“Arthur!” Rein’s voice cracked through the ruin.

“Have you lost your mind?! You didn’t just tear apart your chamber—you blew half the castle into the streets! There are people out there! Families, children! You call yourself a king, but you just buried your own people under stone like they were nothing!”

Aura stepped to Rein’s side, her hand brushing his arm.

“Rein—listen to me. The people are safe. Liora… she shielded them. Her barriers caught the rubble before it could reach the streets. Even half-buried under stone, she still thought of them first. Don’t let his words shake you. He wants your anger, your despair. But the people you worry for? They’re alive—because of her.”

Arthur’s face turned into something that almost looked like relief. He spread his arms wide.

“Oh, Rein… my boy. You don’t need to trouble yourself over them. They’re just people. More will come. They always do.”

He lowered his hands.

 “I have not lost my mind. Quite the opposite—I feel relieved. Do you know how tiring it is? To play the benevolent ruler, the forgiving king, the paragon of virtue? Three centuries of empty smiles, kind words, and hollow charity. All for the sake of a crown. But now… now I am free. At last, I can show them what true rule looks like. Not devotion through love, but obedience through fear.”

Arthur turned to face them, a dark smile cutting across his face.

 “Do you really think that because a few recordings were played, the people will abandon me? That they will rise against ME? This is MY kingdom. I am the KING! And anyone who dares object can leave… or be turned to dust by my hand. Three hundred years I have sat this throne, boy! Three hundred! No one took it from me then, and no one will now!”

------------

Verron stood in the shattered cave, the air thick with ash and molten stone light from Mari’s rampage.

The old man’s body bulged unnaturally, grotesque veins glowing faintly as the serum twisted him into something less human, more beast. Muscles tore through his robes, his cane-sword now crushed in claws that looked more suited for ripping than holding a sword.

“So, this is what you’ve become, Master. Once, you told me discipline was strength. That steel in the mind outweighed any brute force of the flesh. And now… you inject yourself with filth, degrade your body and spirit into this thing. You, the man who taught me blade and will… falling so low as to lean on cursed drugs, like some desperate fool clawing for leftover of power.”

Verron slowly raised his sword.

“You’re no master anymore. Just another monster. And I will cut you down as I would any other.”

But Hans only laughed at Verron’s words.

“Discipline? Honor? That was the talk of men too weak to seize real power. Let me show you… the leftovers of what I’ve kept hidden.”

He took a single step forward—And vanished.

The stone floor where Hans had stood split open like glass, cratering with an explosive force. Slabs of rock launched into the air as though hurled by giants. A deafening CRACK echoed through the cavern, followed by the whipcrack of a sonic boom tearing the silence apart.

Verron’s eyes caught a glimpse—too late.

Hans materialized at his side, a blur of grotesque muscle, his massive arm cocked back. The hook came in like a wrecking ball. Verron barely had time to cross his arms in guard.

The impact shattered the air. Bone-deep pain ripped through him—he felt his ribs splinter, his guard nearly caving as his body was launched like a cannonball across the cave.

Stone walls blurred past in streaks of gray.

But Hans was faster.

In mid-flight, the monster of a man appeared above him. With horrifying strength, he spiked Verron into the cave floor.

BOOM!

The entire chamber quaked. Shards of rock geyser outward in a devastating wave. The ground itself groaned under the impact, cratering so deep it left a wound in the earth.

But Hans wasn’t done.