Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter 1: Prologue

The room was large enough to be mistaken for a banquet hall, but it held only the bare essentials for living.

Swoosh-

Inside that room, a man sat in an antiquated chair made of black wood, flipping through the pages of a book.

His eyes followed the characters relentlessly as the pages turned.

The man was known by many titles:

The First Emperor.

The Iron-Blooded Emperor.

The World's Ruler.

The Conqueror.

The Demon Emperor.

The Black Star Emperor.

From the fairy forests of the West.

To the beast seas of the East.

And up to the giant hordes of the North.

With his overwhelming military power and a charisma that sent shivers down spines, he devoured every country on Earth, except the Demon Territory, weaving them together into a grand empire known as 'Agnes'.

He was the true king of the world.

All beings worshipped and feared him.

"This is pathetic," the man said, his voice faint.

He had finally turned the last page of the book he had been reading.

The Chronicles of the Hero of Frosimar.

That was the title of the book.

It was nothing more than a heroic novel commonly circulated in the world, a book he had stumbled upon in the library.

How such a book found its way into the palace was a mystery.

But this book, set hundreds of years in the future, had caught his interest because it depicted his own empire, Agnes, as it was.

Moreover, its realistic descriptions and detailed narratives made it feel as if they were depicting actual future events.

In particular, the descriptions of various regions, including the royal palace, were so vivid and lifelike, as if they were based on real experiences.

However, he didn't like the ending.

Most novels about a hero's journey ended with the annihilation of a destined enemy, a Demon King.

But this book portrayed the failure of the hero, not his success.

The hero met a tragic death without being able to eliminate the Demon King, and as a result, the world was destroyed by the Demon King and his forces.

The most crucial reason for this occurrence was the empire's downfall.

Even as the world crumbled, both the empire and humanity were solely focused on their own interests.

In the end, the hero embarked on a journey to the Demon Territory without receiving any support from the fragmented and fallen empire.

"I've just wasted my time."

Especially considering the empire's collapse, it was a pitiful novel that couldn't even be called third-rate.

His perfect memory, which retained everything after a single reading, almost felt regrettable.

The emperor closed the book immediately, as if it wasn't worth lingering over, and a deep sense of boredom and fatigue settled in his eyes.

It was a sensation that always clung to him like a shadow, now that he had everything in the world within his grasp.

There was nothing left to conquer, no territory left to seize.

"......"

And so, the emperor, with a gaze of boredom fixed on 'Chronicles of Frosimar's Hero' laid before him, slowly closed his eyes.

* * *

In the tranquil palace, only the faint moonlight illuminated the surroundings.

Thud!

He was merely fulfilling a commission.

Finally, the assassin's sword descended toward the prince's heart.

"No!"

In that instant, a cry resembling a wail burst from the mouth of the old knight, Fredo.

And then...

Everyone present witnessed it.

The target of the assassin— the prince's heart.

The tip of the sword came to a halt, unable to advance any further, right in front of that heart.

Screech!

It seemed frozen in space.

Despite the assassin's temples bulging with exertion, the tip of the sword remained motionless.

"...!"

At this peculiar sight, the other assassins' eyes began to waver for the first time.

Slowly but surely, the unconscious prince opened his eyes.

His gaze was tranquil and languid, akin to a still surface of a lake undisturbed by even the slightest breeze.

It was a look that had never been seen in him before.

Gradually...

Using his finger, the prince pushed away the tip of the assassin's sword in front of his heart, rising to his feet and scanning the room with his eyes.

As if he sought to comprehend fully what had just occurred.

"Prince... Zion?"

The old knight's perplexed voice flowed from his mouth as he beheld the prince's completely altered and unfamiliar appearance.

"Kill him."

Thud!

Only then did the assassins regain their composure and rush toward the prince once more.

The prince, with eyes that remained indifferent, as if the situation held no concern for him, observed the assassins closing in on him.

Just as the assassins swiftly arrived in front of him, ready to strike at his neck...

Swoosh-

The surrounding darkness flickered.

And then...

Pop!

One after another, the heads of the assassins rushing toward him began to burst.

Shortly after, the headless bodies of the assassins dropped lifelessly to the floor, their bright red blood staining the floor.

What in the world is happening?

"...."

The old knight gazed at his lord with a dumbfounded expression, unable to comprehend the situation.

Observing the knight and the room growing increasingly stained with blood...

"This is quite amusing."

The Iron Emperor residing within Prince Zion, or rather, Emperor Zion, smiled faintly

***

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