Deus Necros

Chapter 660: An Emperor’s Mercy

The second prince’s anger made him move before thinking, and movement in a throne room was as readable as speech.

“You dare!” the second prince howled.

The sound wasn’t merely loud; it was desperate, the kind of volume that tries to manufacture authority in a room where authority is already seated on the throne.

Ludwig turned his head toward him at a deliberate pace, giving the prince nothing to bounce off of, no startled flinch, no defensive posture, no appeasing smile.

Inside, Ludwig filed the outburst under predictable. The prince’s pride was always hungry. He wanted an enemy because enemies gave him shape.

’Seems like someone wanted the attention again. At least he wasn’t as loud as the first time.’

“Was there a problem in what I said?” Ludwig kept his tone level, almost curious, as if the prince had raised a procedural concern rather than a challenge.

That made the prince’s outrage look childish by comparison, which was a risk, humiliating a prince publicly was a game that could get a man killed later, but Ludwig had already committed to a posture of calm competence.

Retreating now would look like fear. Fear would make the nobles smell blood.

“You want the throne to reward you for merely clearing your name?”

The second prince leaned into the words, trying to frame Ludwig as a beggar.

Ludwig noticed the small angle of the prince’s body toward the nobles rather than the throne; he wasn’t speaking to his father, he was performing for the nobles, trying to recruit their judgment.

“Since my name would be dragged through the mud as being accused of black magic, I’d expect a compensation once it’s eventually proven that I partake in no such matters.”

He didn’t say it like a plea. He said it like a clause. Ludwig could feel the nobles recalculating: some disliked him for speaking boldly, some respected him for it, and some were simply irritated because a man outside their circle had dared to speak like he belonged.

Ludwig kept his hands behind his back, refusing to gesture as if his argument needed decoration. If the Emperor accepted the logic, Ludwig’s position strengthened; if the Emperor rejected it, Ludwig at least forced the rejection to be explicit.

’Two can play the same game.’ Ludwig thought, after all the Emperor was playing the same game. And everyone can participate in the game of politics if they can afford their necks to be hacked for saying the wrong thing.

“It is fine. Viscount Ludwig does have a point. Now, beyond this,” the emperor looked around, “It seems that my security has grown rather lax, for there to be… rats, underneath my foot without the guards or knights ever noticing.”

The Emperor’s calm dismissal of the prince’s outrage was the real reprimand. It wasn’t shouted, but it cut.

Ludwig watched the second prince stiffen as if struck; being ignored was worse than being scolded.

Every guard in the room tilted their heads in shame as they realized the emperor was talking about them. The synchronized motion looked practiced, like an army trained to apologize as a unit.

Ludwig saw the tension in their shoulders, the tightness in their jaws, the humiliation they swallowed because anger would be insubordination.

“Everyone guard and knight present here in the palace will have their salary deducted for one year. And the deducted value will go to sir Ludwig Heart.”

A year’s salary could break families quietly. The palace didn’t care. The palace never cared.

The punishment wasn’t simply corrective; it was symbolic redistribution.

The Emperor was taking failure and converting it into reward for competence, and he was doing it in the most public way possible.

Ludwig understood the second layer immediately: by paying Ludwig with the guards’ money, the Emperor ensured the guards would remember Ludwig, and in remembering him they would remember what he represented, competence, danger, and the Emperor’s favor.

“I don’t need such grand rewards,” Ludwig shook his head, “Please, your majesty, it will make me an unpleasant memory for these guards…”

Ludwig meant it. Resentment was a kind of weapon too, and guards carried weapons.

He could handle monsters. He preferred not to handle knives in the dark from men who believed he’d stolen bread from their children. His refusal was also tactical; it framed him as considerate, which made it harder for the nobles and the guards to paint him as ambitious.

He offered the Emperor a graceful out without directly rejecting the Emperor’s authority.

“Unpleasant?” the Emperor laughed. “It would be quite the opposite.” The Emperor looked to his right.

The laugh loosened the room slightly, but it wasn’t warmth. It was control. Ludwig watched the Emperor’s eyes shift, and he watched everyone else follow that motion like iron filings to a magnet.

Whoever the Emperor looked at next would become important by default.

“The old emperor would have executed every guard, knight, squire, from here to the gates of the capital of Lufondal for such a breach.” The third prince, for the first time spoke a full sentence.

“And you, Sir Ludwig had just saved them from such a punishement. A year’s deduction, I’m sure they’ll willingly agree to give you their lifesavings if you ask. After all, it is far better than the gallows.”

The third prince wasn’t challenging his father; he was explaining the mercy, making sure the room recognized it as mercy.

Ludwig glanced at Alexander, surprise, yes, but also calculation. A prince who spoke rarely and precisely was more dangerous than one who shouted often. And the whole room began understanding it. After all, Ludwig had the fate to fight alongside the prince back in the west. But rare were the eyes that saw that feat. Many still believe the third prince to be unfit for the throne.

“Really? What changed your mind if you don’t mind me asking, not that I want their passing, I’d rather take their money than see them die.”

“Alexander had mentioned how you were always careful and protective of the wellbeing of others though you had a heavy burden and responsibility. Not to mention that even a beast-man can become a guard. It would be a shame to have one of my son’s guards die so early in his service.”

The Emperor’s explanation was layered. Ludwig could hear it: this wasn’t only mercy, it was policy.

The mention of beast-man wasn’t casual; it was a deliberate reminder that the Emperor’s mercy was broader than old bloodlines. A warning to nobles who still thought in purity.

’Must be talking about Redd,’ Ludwig thought as a cold droplet of hypothetical sweat fell down his back. ’My guy was about to die not even a week from his first real job.’

“You are magnanimous beyond compare. Thank you, your majesty,” Ludwig nodded.