The Young Male Protagonist Who is Destined for Ruin Fell for Me - Chapter 101

Itar entered the underground chamber a step ahead of Amel and the others. The damp air and the groans of the First Prince’s supporters greeted him.

‘Iana. It’s almost over now.’

He had sent Venom to handle the incoming Chaield forces. Marabas was slow to act, so he wouldn’t be arriving anytime soon.

Itar ordered his subordinates to stay ten steps behind him and decided to have a brief moment alone with his father.

Taking the lantern from one of his men, he nudged aside the barely conscious bodies sprawled across the floor with his foot and approached Leosis II.

The emperor, bound to a chair, had been stripped of his robes and crown, yet he still exuded an air of authority. He looked just as he had when Itar had admired him as a child.

‘Then why…’

When Itar first heard the sudden news of Iana’s death, he had rushed to his father.

At the time, he and the First Prince had been competing for the title of crown prince, but he had expected his father’s wisdom to remain impartial.

However, the emperor had crushed that expectation with a single decision—naming Enoch as the crown prince and concluding Iana’s death as a sudden heart failure.

He hadn’t even bothered to refute the murder allegations. Itar had loathed him for it.

“Why did you do it?”

His voice rang through the dimly lit chamber. When the emperor did not lift his bowed head, Itar’s voice grew sharper.

“Why did you reduce her death to nothing more than a news article? Didn’t you love her more than anyone?”

“……”

“You saw her embracing that bouquet of lilies from her lover, smiling with joy! You were there!”

The emperor remained silent. Frustrated, Itar strode forward and shook his father’s shoulders roughly, demanding an answer.

With a dull thud—

The emperor’s head lolled backward, lifeless. Only then did Itar loosen his grip, his voice dropping to a murmur.

“When did this happen…”

The emperor was dead. He had maintained such dignity in his final moments that even those imprisoned with him had not noticed his passing.

Itar gazed at his father’s cold, lifeless form for a long while. He had known this would happen when he ordered the execution of the royal physicians, yet this was not the ending he had wanted.

“You will never be buried beside him, Third Prince!”

“You monster! Do you not remember the kindness His Majesty showed you?!”

The imprisoned nobles, loyal to the First Prince and the emperor, glared at him with hardened expressions. Itar clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Shut up. You know nothing.”

“It is you who knows nothing, Third Prince—ugh!”

His sword silenced the noble’s words, piercing through his mouth in an instant.

The looks of horror on the others’ faces grew even more resolute. There was no turning back now.

He had never wanted to see his dead sister more than he did at that moment.

＊＊＊

Until now, the Cordelia I had seen had been as lifeless as a corpse, utterly devoid of energy. And yet, here I was, hearing her thoughts.

While Marabas was momentarily preoccupied at his desk, I met Cordelia’s gaze. Her cloudy eyes, though dim, focused on me.

「Why are you looking at me like that…」

「…Are you afraid?」

「Chaield’s fiancée…」

Her fragmented thoughts were like a broken radio, but there was warmth in her voice that made my chest tighten. If possible, I wanted to take her away from Traiha.

“Cordelia, I can hear your thoughts.”

I mouthed the words, and Cordelia’s eyes widened slightly. The sudden flurry of her emotions told me she understood.

Marabas rushed his preparations, cutting our conversation short, but the connection between us had already been made.

As we descended into the underground chamber, where I would face Itar, I absorbed every fragment of information Cordelia shared with me.

‘Cordelia is incredible. If I had lived like this, I would have lost my mind within a year.’

Though our time was brief, I had already grasped the strength of her spirit.

I also began to understand the deepest desire that kept her mind from collapsing under Marabas’ control.

‘Don’t worry. Someone will come for us soon.’

I wanted to say that to her, but I couldn’t.

Itar had appeared in the direction Marabas had turned his head, and his expression was worse than I had ever seen.

Cold sweat trickled down his face, making him look like a man suffering from a lingering illness.

“Count Diane. It’s been a while.”

“I never expected to see Your Highness under such circumstances. Judging by your expression, my capture wasn’t a mistake or a coincidence.”

“You guessed correctly. I had you brought here. Your Areté—the ability to read minds—I require it.”

Hearing those words from the man who had sent corpses into Hail to ruin the emperor’s engagement was almost laughable.

If the timing was off, I would likely be killed after giving him the information he wanted.

The thought jolted me back to full awareness.

“You seem to trust me more than I expected, Your Highness. What if I lie about what I read and tell you something false instead?”

“As expected, you think quickly. But that won’t happen.”

Itar uncorked a small glass vial. The liquid inside had a different hue than ordinary potions that resisted Areté.

“This is a truth serum, newly developed in Traiha. It took over ten years from conception to completion.”

He strode toward me as if he intended to force the liquid down my throat. Instead of recoiling in fear, I calmly opened my mouth.

“May I ask Your Highness one thing?”

“Suit yourself.”

“The truth you are about to hear from my lips may not be what you expect.”

No, it would be completely different. Proof of that lay in the slight flicker of Marabas’ expression.

“Knowing the truth may make you more miserable than before. Will you still use me and Cordelia?”

“It seems you know something. But I don’t believe your words right now.”

Before Itar could grab my chin, I opened my mouth. Swallowing a newly developed potion was always risky, but this one was an exception.

In the original story, after successfully overthrowing the regime, Itar had funded his wars using this very truth serum. It had no side effects and had been sold in droves until ethical concerns eventually halted its production.

Itar, indifferent to having his own thoughts read, gripped my jaw firmly. A bittersweet liquid flowed into my mouth. When I swallowed it without hesitation, he seemed slightly taken aback.

Once a fair amount of the vial had been emptied, he dipped his finger into the remaining liquid and smeared it onto my forehead. A faint warmth spread across my skin, and for a brief moment, I could hear his thoughts.

「…Now that Father has passed, there is no turning back.」

「Still, those Chaield bastards arrived sooner than expected. Venom should be handling them.」

Buried within Itar’s thoughts was something hopeful. If I could endure just a little longer, I could escape this nightmare.

＊＊＊

Using teleportation Areté, Chaield’s soldiers arrived in Traiha and tore through the main gate’s defenses in an instant.

Despite having stationed more than half of their available forces at the entrance to protect against interference, the sheer force of the assault exceeded all expectations. Venom gritted his teeth.

Soon, they would reach the main palace, where he and a small alchemical unit were stationed. If they lost this ground, both the rebellion and their lives would end here.

‘And he will never learn what he so desperately seeks.’

Just as he reaffirmed his determination to defend the main palace and the underground chamber beneath it, a subordinate shouted.

“The Chaield insignia has been spotted!”

“It’s Chaield’s… special assassination unit…!”

“The mass eradication unit and the intelligence division are here too…!”

“And… and the Grand Knight Commander, Persh Diane, is leading them!”

Chaield, with its immense wealth, commanded countless hounds in its service. Those who had even a passing interest in martial prowess recognized the names of certain elite units.

The soldiers awaited Venom’s order to retreat, but instead, he raised his voice for all to hear.

“Anyone who flees, I will personally drive my sword through their heart! Whether they are assassins or eradication squads, we have alchemy on our side!”

His thunderous voice carried even to Kylian Chaield, who stood at a distance.

Having been deprived of his fiancée for forty minutes, he had transformed into a feral beast more fearsome than ever before. Nothing else mattered to him.

Beside him, Vanessa was equally displeased. Losing the mistress she was supposed to guard for forty minutes made her want to tear apart the Traihan soldiers in front of her.

And then there was Persh Diane, who had been forced to endure forty minutes without his precious only daughter, Amel. The killing intent radiating from him was palpable—he looked ready to use the enemy commander’s severed head as a drinking vessel.

“Your Grace, I’ll handle things here. Please find Amel with Miss Vanessa.”

At Count Diane’s words, Kyle and Vanessa moved immediately. The Chaield troops waited for their master’s father’s command.

Drawing his sword, Persh Diane exhaled sharply. The aura surging from both of his hands seemed to reach the sky.

“The bastards who kidnapped my daughter—I’ll send them to meet their maker myself!”

Boom—!

His strike shook the ground. At the same time, Chaield’s forces began ripping apart scrolls imbued with offensive alchemical spells.

Lightning crashed, and pillars of fire erupted.

These enchanted scrolls must have been exorbitantly expensive. Venom, momentarily stunned, snapped back to his senses and shouted at his soldiers.

“The enemy consists of primitive Hail citizens who lack alchemical blessings! Their scrolls are limited, so remain calm and use your spells wisely!”

Despite his booming command, the Chaield Peacekeeping Force did not waver in the slightest. Instead, they tore through even more scrolls, as if taunting them.

“…How many do they have?!”

“Venom, sir! Our alchemists can’t keep up!”

As Traiha’s alchemists, responsible for defensive spells, fell backward, Chaield’s forces surged forward, wiping out the enemy in an instant.

Once the protective barriers were breached, there was no escaping Persh Diane’s merciless swordsmanship.

The speed at which Chaield’s forces shredded through their scrolls far outpaced the speed at which Traiha’s alchemists could cast spells.

“Damn it…!”

Cursing, Venom pulled back, preparing to call for reinforcements. But as he did, he caught a glimpse of Chaield’s reserves—mountains of spell scrolls.

This moment would later mark the beginning of a nickname that would be frequently spoken of in history—

“Chaield: The Empire That Wins Through Infinite Supplies.”

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