Emperor's Reckoning

In a space vortex that was full of a storm where the god leveled cultivators would shriek in fear, a man flew through like it was nothing. The chains that held his hands was no more as his gray hair fluttered from the aura he exuded alone.

His clothing had already burned up from the sheer force of the environment he was currently in. Not just any fabric could withstand the power of nature.

He suddenly furrowed his eyebrows before he slapped the nearby space and ripped out a crack in an instant. On the other side of the hole was vast greenery with no living figure to be seen inside. Casually, he walked inside the said scenery.

The wind past through his hair as he stood in front of the space crack. Nature immediately started recuperating and fixing the damage he caused albeit slowly like pieces of glass patched together.

"This place is," muttered the man as a fabric of memory played in his mind.

"I want the night to be a little romantic, can you guys pull the four moons a little closer?"

The sentence echoed in his mind before his eyes turned watery. His emotion was surging whenever he remembered that man. The man who he owed everything to.

He quickly wiped his crocodile tears before taking a deep breath and glanced at a certain direction.

There was a kingdom in his field of view however, his eyes turned sharp as he looked at an alone pub a few kilometers away from it. It was weird for such a place to be opened outside of the festivity spot.

The man curved up a smile before disappearing from the spot.

An old man suddenly tumbled down as he was seeing the man disappeared from his eyes. He initially roamed the forest before he felt a presence.

To think that a powerful cultivator like him would actually be thrown down by the fear his body was reacting to. He was a revered individual in his clan. Many of the youngins thought that he was already invincible and the one that could contest with him could be count by one hand.

He was palpitating before he gulped, "W-What monster."

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

The pub was a medium-sized pub with a traditional theme. It had no name yet the people from the high or low class of the kingdom often visited this place. No matter if you were a king nor a peasant if you had the money to buy the liquor you are welcomed.

The pub was having a rather lively atmosphere at this point in time. There were only ten tables and one floor which all of them had already been occupied. A man with three bodyguards suddenly barged in an demand a table to be freed at once.

He had a look of an elite and with every sentence he said, he always tried to look down at his interlocutor.

The said man suddenly slapped a table where a group that looked like a peasant had just sat down because it was their turn.

"Get the hell out of the way peasants! I demand this table to be for me and my guards."

The group trembled as they saw his clothing and menacing bodyguards. A blind person could tell that he was of someone important. Their insignificant life was less than a single ring that he wore.

"It will be of your best interest of letting go this table, the prince is on the way to the nearby kingdom to conduct an agreement, you don't want to start a war do you?" said one of the guards while touching the hilt of his sword.

One of the peasants in the group gritted his teeth while clenching his hand. Why did they have to go, was it because of their low status?! They had saved up money just to be in this pub for once a year.

Because the pub was always full and rarely opened. Having a table was precious for everyone. The other tables drank as they felt sad for the group but couldn't do anything.

"Don't do things that will make you regret," said one of the bodyguards after seeing his clenched fist.

One of the peasants tapped his friend's shoulder and shook his head. It was not worth it to lose life over a table in a pub. Though the pub was dubbed to be the best in the land, it was not worth it to risk the life of one's own.

Begrudgingly, the peasants stood up and leave the table. It was a sad thing to see but no one would dare to fight for their justice.

"That's right, the low class has to yield to the higher ones, but rejoice for you peasants had done a service to your future king," said the prince before he sat down.

Suddenly before they could order a drink, the pub owner placed down five drinks.

"Right, five Holy Nectars was it? Oh, you don't look like the people that order the drinks."

The man wore a butler suit. He had slicked black hair and wore a frame glasses. He exuded coolness despite his lack of awareness.

The prince twitched his mouth as he watched the lean butler, "You dare to insult me, waiter?!"

The man with a butler suit pushed up his glasses, "No, I'm the owner of this place."

The guards stood up and readied their swords, "Don't offend the prince, unless you want to be executed right here and incite a war between two kingdoms."

The man with a butler suit didn't even flinch even with three swords pointing at him. His heartbeat was calm as if the three swords were nothing but a toy being held by children.

The other customers shrieked before they scurried away and run from the pub.

The prince suddenly stood up before saying, "Calm down guards, I will give him a chance."

He approached the owner of the pub with a smirk, "Kneel before me and apologize."

The owner of the pub pushed his glasses as his eyes turned sharp but his figure still stood upright. Despite being faced by four to one situation, he held his composure well, or maybe, too well.

The prince furrowed his eyebrows before he shouted, "Are you deaf?! I said kneel before me, your future king!"

The owner's eyes flashed as killing intent immediately exuded from his figure.

*splurt

Before the prince could open his eyes wide, four fingers already penetrated his throat.

"GhGHGH!"

The prince could not utter a word before thudding sound was heard. The bodyguards he was proud of was lying on the stainless floor, breathless.

"Now listen here," said the owner as he took off his glasses with his other hand and hang it on his collar.

He put his thumb on his neck as a grip as he pulled the prince closer.

"I only serve, one king," said the owner with a deep tone.

He raised his knees, before with a whipped of a shadow, the prince's kneecaps were destroyed with a loud crack. The scream could not escape his mouth as the four fingers still embedded inside his neck.

Kneeling in front of the man he was insulting, his sense of hatred was overcome with the sense of dread. Even his elite bodyguards died without him knowing how.

"One emperor."

The owner let go of his fingers as blood spurted out from the prince's throat. However, before the body could drop and ended his suffering, the owner shouted a name.

"Emperor Torga!"

He retracted his hand before he penetrated the prince's chest as his blood exploded and stained both the table and the floor.