Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)

Third Person's POV

His short black horns seemed to become longer and longer in the two's gaze, and unknown to them, their pupils expanded visibly from fear and hallucination, though no one knew what it was.

Subsequently, both Falco and the girl felt their teeth begin to chatter involuntarily, and they did not even have the awareness to stop it.

They were no novices and were battle-hardened and ruthless in their own right, but before this sight, they stood frozen, not just in fear but something unknown which they couldn't describe.

Suddenly, the small magic lamp running on light elemental crystals and which had been lighting the room, flickered once… and went out.

At the same time, the slight bits of blood-red moonlight pouring in through the tall windows dimmed unnaturally, as though the world outside had recoiled from the presence now radiating inside.

The silence in the room thickened, and the duo even forgot to breathe.

And just as time seemed to crawl to a standstill, the prince stilled abruptly.

A flicker of recognition passed across his face as he had felt it too.

He suddenly realized that he had lost control for a moment and came back to his senses as he pulled himself from the brink.

With visible effort, he exhaled, and the black mist withdrew while the rotating wheel that felt similar to an all-devouring vortex vanished into the void, and the air began to flow again.

Turning away from them, he approached the window and looked outside.

His gaunt frame looked fragile in the moonlight, but Falco knew now that appearances meant nothing here.

The prince stared out at the darkened Blood Moon and fell into thought.

Damn it. I lost control. They saw too much...

Still… these two are the most capable in my inner circle. If I can corrupt them fully… mold them… the possibilities are endless.

As for Erik? He was trash anyway with no talent, and similarly no vision. He was indeed useful to my past self, but now that my memories have returned, I see clearly that he is better off as a cripple.

This thought passed in a moment, and then, as if nothing unusual had occurred, the prince turned back to them, his voice light but commanding.

"I believe I asked a question. Did you two not hear me?"

His tone was calm now, almost casual, but no one was fooled by the softness, as for them it seemed to hold the weight of death.

Neither Falco nor the girl raised their heads as they couldn't bring themselves to meet the stare of that gaunt, hollow-eyed youth whose thin lips now curved into a ghost of a smile.

Despite his undeniable handsomeness, the prince looked more corpse than man with his sickly pallor, sunken cheeks, and eyes ringed in black that robbed him of all charm and vitality.

They couldn't help but feel that there was something deeply wrong with him, and that wrongness seemed to be bleeding into the air around him.

Just as the prince opened his mouth again, Falco found his voice through stutters.

"A-As Your Majesty ordered… we departed from DarkHold's provincial capital and made our way toward the Abyssal Sanctum. We arrived beneath the dark abyss yesterday..."

He paused to swallow, his voice slowly regaining steadiness as his years of experience took over.

"...And while we were making the dangerous ascent, we encountered a pair of demonkin siblings. Both blond."

The moment the word blond was spoken, the prince's expression changed—just slightly. His eyes narrowed, and he couldn't help but remember something deep in his heart.

But he forced it down, locking it away, and said nothing, though Falco continued, while being totally unaware.

"They were young. We intended to leave them be… but Erik, well, Your Majesty knows how he is."

The prince didn't speak, but a dangerous glimmer passed through his eyes.

Falco either didn't notice or pretended not to.

"They were demonkin too," Falco continued, his voice steady again,

"and we intended to ignore them, or at least that was the plan. But… you know how Erik is."

The moment those words left his mouth, a sharp, cold gleam flickered in the young prince's eyes—a glint as thin and dangerous as a razor.

But Falco, either oblivious or choosing ignorance, didn't catch it.

Instead, he resumed his casual demeanor, as though he had already forgotten the suffocating terror from just moments earlier.

"Without provocation, he attacked them as he felt that the girl was passable enough to become your bed warmer.

He offered a chance to the girl to obediently become his slave and come with him, but they refused instantly.

Their refusal instantly led to him attacking the two suddenly.

The brother had no chance.

It was so sudden that he didn't even get the opportunity to retaliate, and he fell straight down into the abyss, lost in the dark before we could blink.

None of the siblings had expected that someone would attack them in such a precarious place, and they panicked."

He paused, and a bitter expression formed on his face as a long and drawn-out sigh escaped him.

"Even though the boy had fallen off the rope we had intended to save the girl but to our dismay the girl slipped after him down the rope into the dark abyss, or so we believed.

She went down so fast that there was no possibility for her to be saved.

Seeing that we assumed they were both dead, and didn't follow her as the climb was too dangerous, and if we had run after her, we could have lost our balance ourselves."

He paused again and let out a long breath filled with quiet remorse or something close to it.

Falco's lips pressed together tightly as if even now, the memory weighed on him more than he wanted to admit.

Another sigh escaped him, this one heavier than the last.

From the side of the room, the young prince's voice cut through the stillness once again, calm but with a knife's edge just beneath the surface.