The tyrant Wants To Live Honestly Chapter 13

“Are you not willing to surrender, Sir Stefan?”

 

I offered him mercy.

 

The palace was already in my hands. The place he is guarding is the last bastion, the Emperor’s Room with Ray.

 

The knights who might have aided Stefan were either dead or had already surrendered.

 

Stefan was an excellent knight, but it was impossible to face hundreds of soldiers alone in the absence of allies.

 

“.…”

 

“In such a case, it would be better to answer wisely.”

 

I smiled at Stefan, who didn’t answer.

stupid.

 

Even though there was a way to live, I felt sorry for the stupidity of being ready to die.

 

But I had no intention of showing any more compassion to him.

 

“I would’ve liked to fight you properly, but now isn’t the time to waste strength on personal sentiments.”

 

When I lifted my hand, the archers came forward.

 

Ray was still there.

 

The fight with Ray was my responsibility.

 

I knew all too well that Ray was no easy opponent.

 

So I wouldn’t make the mistake of lowering my guard by indulging Stefan with misplaced generosity.

 

At least until then, I was a person who could make cool and wise judgments to achieve what I wanted.

 

“May you have no regrets about your choices.”

 

At the same time as my command, dozens of arrows flew towards Stefan.

 

Since there was a limit to striking with a sword, arrows were lodged in Stefan’s limbs.

 

In the narrow hallway, not even outdoors, Stefan ran forward without dodging the arrow.

 

With arms and legs studded with arrows, he swung his sword at the archers.

 

“Ugh!”

 

“Aaaah!”

 

Death cries rang out, but Stefan—who had always been silent—didn’t let out so much as a groan.

 

However, the blood on the corners of his tightly closed mouth informed his condition.

 

The phrase “unyielding will” suited him well as Stefan stubbornly continued to face the soldiers.

 

But I disliked that phrase.

 

At the end of an unyielding will lay nothing but annihilation.

 

“Even if you stop me here, what will you do with your body that will not last long.”

 

Not that someone like Stefan could stop me anyway.

 

I grabbed my sword and clicked my tongue. And I blocked Stefan’s sword that crawled through me.

 

I was a little surprised that the power coming from the body with the arrows was stronger than I thought.

 

It wasn’t to the point of being overpowered.

 

I easily blocked his massive sword and looked at Stefan as he clenched his jaw so tightly it seemed his teeth might shatter.

 

See? You know it too—that you’re going to die.

 

I read death in his eyes.

 

He was afraid. He wanted to flee from the pain of dying.

 

The sharp arrowheads embedded in the arm gripping his sword, the legs soaked red with blood—they were tightening around him like shackles.

 

A perfectly ordinary human, fearful, yielding before an overwhelming force, desperate to escape pain.

 

He simply possessed courage and resolve stronger than his fear.

 

Even in the face of the fear of death and the pain that extinguishes the spark of life, he valued something else more deeply.

 

“Well then… how admirable.”

 

It’s better to be a roaring and exploding fire than to be a shabby, extinguished embers at the end of life.

 

With great joy, I cut off Stefan’s body.

 

The sword cut through his wide chest, blood spilling out, and his knees pounding to the floor.

 

Stefan looked at me kneeling.

 

Those black eyes pierced my brain like thorns. An unspoken emotion that I’ve never encountered before.

 

I tried to interpret Stefan’s last will, but his eyes soon turned cold and stained with death.

 

Stefan knelt down like a stone statue.

 

“Is… is he dead?”

 

Those around me were very frightened, and they were wary of the great Stefan, who knelt down.

 

His body stood upright, as if alive.

 

“…Yes. He’s dead.”

 

His gaze at the last glance was so intense that I stared at his death for a moment.

 

Those eyes that were neither fear nor resentment nor resignation.

 

I wanted to ask what he was trying to say, but he was already dead.

 

“Go.”

 

I did not keep my feet tied to the end of Stefan.

 

I can’t stop contemplating what his will was. There is no time to delay and hesitate in curiosity.

 

Because there is still one bigger fight left.

 

I took the warmth of countless lives and headed to Raymond’s room with the heated sword.

 

* * *

 

And now, those eyes that wanted to leave an unspoken will were looking at me.

 

I stared into Stefan’s black eyes.

 

Seeing someone I had killed once standing alive before me again didn’t feel pleasant at all.

 

‘Will we be able to get along?’

 

I was already worried.

 

I knew Stefan’s personality well enough.

 

Quiet to the point of seeming rude, overly silent, reserved, and loyal.

 

Even his appearance is far from gentle—when he stands still with his mouth shut, most people feel afraid and avoid him.

 

‘Still, I’m glad He didn’t have any words.’

 

At least nothing will provoke me like Ray.

 

I approached Stefan.

 

I’ve felt it for a long time, but seeing him now when I was a nine-year-old, I felt that he was taller.

 

Maybe 7 feet?

 

Due to his height and size, Stefan appeared to be in his mid-to-late twenties.

 

The 18-year-old was probably just beginning to establish himself in the Knights.

 

‘Right when he should’ve been building experience and climbing the ranks, he got assigned to me.’

 

Still, if you were my escort, you would have settled down to a certain extent.

 

I felt a little sorry for him.

 

It would be a plausible career to be an escort knight for the princess, but it would be quite dissatisfying for a knight to come down to this distant province and support the nine-year-old princess.

 

This neighborhood, where the detached palace stood, was peaceful—too peaceful.

 

There would be no incidents here to help one’s skills, no opportunities to earn merit

 

“Thank you.”

 

I reached out to him, expressing my deepest condolences.

 

Because of the height difference, the expression of raising hands rather than reaching out was appropriate.

 

“….”

 

Stefan stood there staring at me bluntly, even though I asked for a handshake.

 

Yep, this was his biggest problem.

 

That’s why we didn’t get along.

 

‘That’s why, even with his talent, he only ever made it to vice-captain.’

 

With no prestigious background and no social skills to speak of, his abilities were arguably the best among the knights—yet his promotions had a clear ceiling.

 

Even the positions of the head and  the generals, appointed by the state above the vice-president.

 

He had the skill to rise higher, but after becoming vice-captain in his twenties, he never advanced again until the day he died.

 

“knight, shake hands…”

 

Clara, who was watching from the side, said to Stefan very carefully.

 

Clara looked frightened by Stefan’s tall stature, broad shoulders, and a scar on his face.

 

At Clara’s words, Stefan looked down at me bluntly and stretched out his hand.

 

But he didn’t hold my hand.

 

‘Hey, you didn’t mean to high-five?’

 

But he didn’t seem to want to hold my hand again.

 

‘He is still arrogant, really.’

 

‘So much for “it’s a relief that he doesn’t talk much.”’

 

Contrary to Ray, staying with Stefan was frustrating, and the thought that I might explode.

 

* * *

 

I sat at my desk and held a pen.

 

I bit my lip and wrote the letters on the top line of the paper with my sullen hand.

 

Then I looked at the paper for a long time with a puzzled face.

 

[The bucket list of living a good life.]

 

I’d written it down for now, but it still felt a bit off, so I fluttered the tip of the pen in hesitation.

 

The reason I decided to write this embarrassing list was because, contrary to my promise to live a good life, life didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to.

 

Every time I bump into Ray, I become a bad person again, and every time I meet Theon, my promise breaks down.

 

But now there was no worry, no Theon, and no damn Carnan.

 

Wouldn’t it be possible to live a good life in this quiet detached palace?

 

‘Yeah, so I have to set my own standards to achieve my goals.’

 

Even in my previous life, I used to write down the things I needed to achieve my goals.

 

I straightened the pen again.

 

By the way… How do you live a good life?

 

You have to have lived kindly before to know how to do it.

 

I wrinkled my eyebrows and glared at only the white paper.

 

No one ever taught me how to be kind.

 

‘kindly…what is kind?’

 

“Princess, what are you doing?”

 

Clara asked when I couldn’t write anything with my pen.

 

“Clara, what should I do to live a good life?”

 

‘Really, what should I do?’

 

Are you a good person if you don’t kill people?

 

“If you want to live a good life, you must first listen to your parents.”

 

Clara smiled and gave me some very boring but useless advice.

 

‘Listen to my parents? That’s not in my dictionary!’

 

“Nothing like that.”

 

Clara approached me when I got serious.

 

“What are you doing? Bucket list ?”

 

Clara burst into laughter when she saw the bucket list I was working on.

 

Then Stefan sneaked up behind me and peeped at the list, perhaps curious.

 

“Why, why are you laughing?”

 

Being ashamed for no reason, I tried to cover the bucket list with my small hand, which had only a title.

 

My face was hot and burning.

 

I decided to live a good life, but the word “good” was somehow embarrassing.

 

“It’s cute to live a good life. Why are you making this?”

 

‘Why are you asking the obvious? I want to live a good life!’

 

‘And cute? Could you not?’

 

It’s a phrase I’ve heard often since I was a child, but no matter how much I heard it, I couldn’t get used to it.

 

This is because, unlike the words pretty or beautiful, the word “cute” felt something like an artificial affection that couldn’t be afforded.

 

So, that kind of tickling and clunky feeling that doesn’t suit me. So I was extremely burdened with the word cute and hated it.

 

“Well, how about something like this?

Give your father ten massages!”

 

“Clara is a good daughter.”

 

Was that really all she had?

 

Her suggestions were like Ray’s forced cuteness—that is, not just useless, but actively irritating.

 

The thought of giving a massage to Carnan was terrifying.

 

What would that even accomplish?

 

Oh, it will relieve some stress. It’s my chance to strike the great Emperor, Carnan with my bare fists.

 

And besides, that wasn’t a kind act.

At least not by my standards.

 

“You don’t like it? So how about smiling ten times a day?”

 

“smile ten times?”

 

“Come to think of it, I have never seen the princess smile properly.”

 

Clara said, fiddling with her chin.

 

I glanced at the mirror on one side of the room. A nine-year-old girl with a blunt expression was reflected.

 

As a tyrant, I rarely smiled, which made people more afraid.

 

It wasn’t that I didn’t like to smile.

 

I just had nothing to smile about. Even after becoming emperor, strangely enough, I had everything I wanted, but I couldn’t smile.

 

‘Clara’s words make sense.’

 

When I think of the image of a good person, I usually think of a person with a kind smile.

 

There’s no such thing as a good person with a bad face.

 

I looked in the mirror and gently raised the corners of my lips.

 

Embarrassed by the convulsive unnaturalness, I quickly lowered the corners of my lips before Clara and Stefan saw them.

 

* * *