The Lord Is Too Overbearing

Standing before the empty throne that belonged to his father, Aldrich smiled softly. Beside the throne, Eldridge was standing silently, head bowed respectfully at him.

“My father has chosen to abandon his throne for someone that is not even his real son … Don’t you find it amusing, Eldridge?” Aldrich asked as he turned his head to the said counsellor.

“I think it is very noble of him to do that instead of using his influence to call what is black white. The fact that he threw away his status means that he knows what he is doing is wrong, but still wants to fight for it regardless,” Eldridge respectfully answered.

Aldrich clenched his fist for a few seconds before unclenching it as he calmed himself down. He exhaled lightly and then muttered, “Just what is special about that bastard, I wonder. Just because he is competent, everyone turns a blind eye to everything he does!”

Bam!

Aldrich kicked the throne but did no damage to it.

“Ah, I was talking about myself, wasn’t I? I have always gotten away with everything I do, no matter how severe and unsightly it is,” he came to a realization. “My father has always helped me out and I just can’t accept the fact that he does that to someone else.”

Aldrich was the most promising candidate for the next King. Anthony might act as if he still didn’t know who was going to be the King, but he had already decided that Aldrich was going to be the next King from the beginning.

“You are the most mature out of the five. Your position is already guaranteed, but I won’t give it to you on a silver platter. Play along with me. Help me make your other siblings become the respectable men they should be,” were the words his father said that he still remembered.

He had heard his father’s confession before hearing those words. He knew his father would like to make his sister succeed to the throne if not for the fact that she was a female and “owned” by the Empire.

He was fine despite being a “replacement” since his position was already guaranteed, unlike the others. The play had gone well and none of his siblings knew what was going on between him and his father.

He had carried the mission splendidly, at least, until the day his father sent him and his siblings to BA-32. He began to wonder at that time if his father was planning to kill all of them; he knew how impossible that task was to accomplish.

As he had expected, something happened—unfortunately, misfortune befell him. He had almost died that day and his Magic Mastery progress was doomed to be stunted forever.

Everything went downhill ever since: his father had stopped paying him attention since he had found a new favourite and his Demon heart was slowly eating him away.

“Basil Pacifer … Ku-Ku-Ku!”

He had been looking for every miss Basil did just to drag the Pacifer down. After two years of effort, he finally succeeded.

“I commend your ability for being able to kill Charles Blois, but you should have cleaned the battlefield before you left.

The realization came to him when the news about Basil cutting a mountain in two with a swing of his sword came out. He pieced the information together and then concluded that Basil was the cause of the tear in the Northern Mountain Region.

A year and a half had passed since the event took place by that point, but he still got the Mana trace that matched Basil’s Mana Signature through sheer luck. Knowing that it could do nothing to slander Basil’s name, he went to meet the new Head Priest of the Randalvine Church.

The case of Eugene’s mysterious death was closed because of the lack of evidence and Basil’s cast-iron alibi. He planned to put the Mana trace he got at the crime scene and used it against Basil, which was why he needed the Church’s cooperation.

“We thank you for your kind initiative, Prince Aldrich; however, we have a better way to drag him to hell. We happen to also have a bigger problem with him, you know?”

That day he heard the assumption about Basil. He became certain that Basil needed to be killed, but he agreed with the Church to wait until the perfect time—when they were sure of his true identity.

That day came soon enough. They became sure that Basil was whom they thought he was when he broke the God’s Tear Amulet Archibald gave him.

It was initially meant to slowly pull out the Pacifer trait in him; but the moment he destroyed it, it detected the unique Mana Signature of the Pacifer. The signal was sent to the Church, notifying them that their assumption was right.

“I actually quite like you, you know? I would have protected you had you sided with me, Basil.”

Turning around as he finished rummaging through his memory, Aldrich was greeted by the space before the throne, which was the place where he and his siblings used to stand on whenever they were summoned by their father.

“Edward aside, I didn’t expect Brenton, Cameron and Dwight to also side with that bastard, leaving their mothers alone,” he muttered.

Shrugging lightly, he added, “Well, I guess they have seen it coming. Those women, after all, don’t hesitate to sacrifice their sons the moment they are presented luxuries.”

With his father and his siblings leaving him behind, the throne that he had almost lost fell on him. It was something to rejoice about, but he didn’t feel any sense of achievement.

“I want that bastard to die—no, he must die,” he muttered hatefully. “With the help of the Church and the Monster Rancuser Family had hidden for millennia, no matter how many people side with him, he will die. I am sure of it.”

Looking at the Prince who was going to succeed to the throne soon, Eldridge shook his head and inwardly remarked, ‘As the King slips, the Kingdom will also fall along with him. Sorry, lad, but Braxtein has met its end.’

…

“Hoo-hah. Hoo-hah. Hoo-hah… Darn it! That accursed bastard—what has he done to my Dukedom?!”

Running with bated breath to the Rancuser Dukedom that was now already flat with the ground was Archibald. He had barely recovered from Basil’s immense pressure, but he was still rushing to his Dukedom to see its current condition.

His heart was racing but not because of the fatigue; the scene where Basil’s golden eyes stared deep into his eyes as if piercing his soul was forever etched in his mind. It was constantly replayed and his heart rate increased from time to time because of it.

Shrrk!

As he abruptly stopped running, he skidded onto the ground. He had arrived at his beloved Dukedom that his family had managed for millennia, but the scene before him turned him agape.

He tried to utter some words, but they remained unsaid in the end. He would like to believe the scene before his eyes was nothing but a dream but the thick scent of fire, ash and blood was too realistic to be dismissed.

“What happened to my… home? My family?”

He was still in the outermost part of his Dukedom, but all he could see was destruction. The buildings decorating the land were either flat with the ground or set on fire, meanwhile, thousands of disfigured or charred bodies decorated the ground along with blood and gore.

“Saddening, isn’t it?” he heard a heavy voice that came out of nowhere.

Jumping away in shock, he looked at the person who had suddenly appeared beside him. His heart beat crazily as he looked into the person’s eyes.

Standing at 192 centimetres tall, dressed in a simple white tunic with a red robe draped over it, the man looked like a Mage from thousands of years ago. His stature was fit and muscular; he looked like a man in his mid-forties, but his eyes indicated that he was way older.

In his whole life, Archibald had only seen one person who had the same characteristics as the man: the Human Empire.

“W-Who are you?” Archibald squeaked out.

Uncaring to Archibald, the man looked ahead and said, “Before that, what dost thou think—the scene before thee? Saddening, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes… it is saddening.”

Archibald was about to open his mouth when the man spoke again. “Sad thou art might be, at the moment, thou wilt never knows how sad this one is to find out how incompetent his descendants are. This one just wants a peaceful rest; ’tis but a dream, unfortunately.”

As Archibald widened his eyes in shock, the man continued, “Woe is me! I had to end their pathetic existence to not further smear our family’s name. Pained, I was; however, the embarrassment made me ignore it.”

With his trembling index finger, Archibald pointed at the man. “Y-You… this… this destruction—was it you who caused it?”

The man frowned lightly and stepped forward. He grabbed Archibald’s index finger and then snapped it without hesitation, causing Archibald to bellow in pain.

“AAAAHHHH!”

“Hmph! This one hath become more disappointed. Hath not thy parents taught thee to not point thy finger toward your elder?” the man scoffed. “Very well, allow this one to introduce himself. ‘Tis I, August Rancuser, Caesar Rancuser the protector of Rancuser.”

Hearing that August was a Rancuser calmed Archibald down a little bit. He then quickly became alarmed in the next moment, however, since he was reminded about what August had done to the Dukedom.

“Protector, my arse! You are no different from that bastard, aren’t you? Talking in an old-fashioned way—even the way you look down on someone is the same!” Archibald shouted as he tried to pull his mangled finger off.

“Now, now, youngling. ‘Tis not good pointing fingers at this situation. Hast thou not realized we are in the same boat?”

“I would never have the heart to kill my family—we are not in the same boat!”

The answer somehow shocked August. He had the look of someone who had just come to a realization as he severed Archibald’s finger and then threw it to the ground.

“AAAHHH!” Archibald, once again, bellowed.

“We killed a plethora of people we called family in the past to get where we are currently. We even killed our benefactors and cursed one of our members,” August muttered. “Ah, that is what maketh us competent. We, indeed, are not in the same boat.”

Turning to Archibald, who was looking at his severed finger with gritted teeth, he exclaimed, “Rejoice, you shall, youngling. This one will make thee competent!”

He pulled Archibald up by his collar and smiled. “Tell me, who is our enemy?”

Archibald could never forget August’s smile the moment he mentioned Pacifer.