The World Is Mine For The Taking

Chapter 123: Chapter 18 - Preparation For The King's Game (7)

The man began conjuring flames in the palms of his hands, but it wasn't ordinary fire magic. No, it was intensified, doubled in power. Even I could sense the potency of it.

"And what about you, how can I help you?" he suddenly asked. Though he was facing the woman, I knew instantly that he wasn't addressing her. His question was directed at me.

I stepped forward, finally revealing myself.

"I've been waiting for the right moment to approach you," I replied. "Seems like you're quite occupied. Sorry for the interruption."

When he laid eyes on me, a derisive click of his tongue echoed through the air, followed by a sharp pivot of his head to face me. "Another uncouth woman, huh?" he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "What's with these women nowadays? They're all uncouth and stupid," he growled, his scowl casting dark shadows over his face.

"They latch onto a man they love, oblivious to those who've stood by them through thick and thin, as if they were nothing more than fleeting distractions. Ungrateful bitches, the lot of them, deserving of nothing but to burn to dust..."

The flames surrounding us surged, mirroring the intensity of the man's emotions. With each wave of anger that washed over him, the fire roared fiercer, as if his fury itself fueled the inferno.

I brandished a gun and leveled it at him.

"I don't know what you're rambling about, but your actions are costing lives. Put an end to this madness," I demanded.

"I have no intention of stopping. I want something that woman possesses, and I won't rest until I have it. Not even if you try to stand in my way," he retorted defiantly. "And what's with that pitiful weapon? Do you honestly believe something like that can defeat me?"

"These bullets are aimed straight at you and will track you no matter how much you try to dodge," I warned, my tone firm. "You can evade all you want, but you won't escape them. One pull of this trigger and you're as good as dead. Consider yourself warned."

I didn't want to resort to killing this man, despite the gravity of the situation. In the world I came from, killing people were made without a second thought, consequences be damned. In the past, I wouldn't have hesitated to eliminate him without a second thought; that was just the brutal reality of the world I lived in. I wouldn't have bothered with a warning.

But this man held importance, and if I were to take his life, my aspiration of becoming a magic knight would be dashed, perhaps irreparably. I couldn't afford to jeopardize my plan to return to my world by taking such a drastic step.

When I issued my warning, the man erupted into a torrent of maniacal laughter, each echo ricocheting off the flaming walls of the hall. The flames themselves seemed to swell in response, twisting and gyrating as if caught in the grip of the man's unhinged amusement.

"One pull, and I'm dead? Ha ha ha! Why should I fear death? Do you think I'm a coward like my father? I'm not the same person I once was. Don't you dare underestimate me!" he bellowed, his laughter morphing into a ferocious roar that reverberated through the fiery halls.

As he spoke, crimson mana swirled around him, pulsating with malevolent energy and igniting the flames to a furious blaze.

"You may have known me as the cowardly prince overshadowed by my half sister, but that version of me is long gone," he declared, his voice resolute and unwavering amidst the inferno. "I've shed my identity as a prince of Milham. I will become the king, not just of this kingdom, but of the entire world. I will conquer it, holding it in the palm of my hand."

He conjured a blazing inferno, flames dancing in his wake, before finally wheeling around to face me.

"I'm Julius, the conqueror! Remember me as the man who'll stake his claim on every nation, the one destined to be king of this entire world! Now, drop to your knees and behold the power of the man who's gonna rule it all!"

"Gh...!"

In an instant, the very air transformed, crackling with an intensity that was palpable. The atmosphere pulsated around us, thick with an arcane energy. This was no ordinary magic; it was something primal, commanding. It pressed upon me, a forceful weight urging me to submit.

I gritted my teeth, defiance mingling with pain as the sheer magnitude of his mana drew blood, a crimson trail tracing down my chin.

When he observed my resilience against his overwhelming magical pressure, a flicker of surprise crossed his face. "Impressive. You're the first to ever stand firm against my power," he mused, casting a glance over his shoulder. The woman behind him was on her knees. "Even Zeruel lacks your fortitude. I recognize you.

You're that woman with no prowess, aren't you? Yet here you stand while Zeruel falters. You're intriguing."

As he advanced towards me, I readied myself in a defensive stance amidst the suffocating pressure. A smirk played on his lips at the sight.

"Nevertheless, your efforts are in vain," he declared. "You may stand your ground, but under this crushing weight, can you truly move?"

As he towered over me, his gaze descended upon me with a mix of curiosity and disdain, like he was observing some exotic specimen for the first time. It grated on my nerves, so I unleashed my frustration by slamming my forehead into his face.

"Guh...!" he staggered backward, clutching his bleeding lip. "You bitch!" he snarled, conjuring a colossal fireball and hurling it at me.

I attempted to evade, but the suffocating pressure hindered my movements, rendering me unable to dodge the impending inferno. With a surge of desperation, I mustered all the mana I could to form a protective barrier, bracing for impact. When the searing flames engulfed me, it felt as though my very flesh was being seared from my bones, my senses overwhelmed by the intense heat.

It was an excruciating ordeal, akin to being slowly roasted alive.

After the flames finally subsided, I stood for a moment before my body gave out, though I remained conscious. The man looked at me, "I'm surprised you didn't even scream when that fireball hit you. And I'm equally surprised you're still breathing. But I guess that's the extent of your worth. In the end, all you women are nothing but garbage. I regret even wasting my time on you."

Turning his attention to the woman, he continued with a chilling tone. "Now, do you want to suffer the same fate as her, roasted alive, or will you willingly hand over the ticket and spare yourself? I'm feeling generous today. I'll let you off the hook and overlook your insults, like calling me a bastard. But don't expect forgiveness if you try it again. And as for your mother?

Well, I doubt she'll survive. So why don't you just leave her to her fate?"

"Grrr...!" the woman snarled, her defiance palpable in the air.

"You're still clinging to hope, aren't you? But face the truth. Your mother is already gone; you just refuse to acknowledge it. No one has ever unearthed a remedy for her affliction. Those who claim otherwise, offering magical solutions, are merely preying on desperate souls, squeezing them dry of their hard-earned coin. There's no redemption from that illness.

So release her and grant her the peace she deserves."

"I don't care," the woman declared adamantly. "Even if I have to harness every ounce of my power, I refuse to watch my mother perish!"

"What a stubborn fool," the man scoffed, shaking his head. "Well, I guess that's women for you."

With a resigned sigh, he conjured yet another colossal fireball in his hand. "It's time for you to meet your end."

As he prepared to unleash the fiery projectile, a sudden interruption shattered the tension. A figure crashed through the window, their arrival accompanied by the abrupt disappearance of the surrounding flames. The newcomer was a woman with midnight-black hair and eyes ablaze with crimson intensity. She held a curved, single-edged blade in a menacing grip.

"...Your highness. It's past time you returned home," she declared with authority, her voice cutting through the tension. She resheathed her blade with a fluid motion. "Your father has grown tired of this senseless charade."

"...Who are you?" the man inquired, his confusion evident in his voice. His gaze traveled up and down the woman's form, studying her intently. Suddenly, realization dawned on him. "Ah... So it's you. The youngest magic knight, who achieved the rank at the tender age of seventeen.

You've returned from the mission my father assigned to you, I presume."

He paused, his expression shifting from confusion to acknowledgement. "I've never had the pleasure of meeting you in person, so I assumed the rumors of a woman attaining the status of magic knight at such a young age were nothing but nonsense. But seeing you before me now, Veronica Eclair, I suppose it's true."