Little Tyrant Doesn’t Want to Meet with a Bad End
chapter-614

It was morning. Paul Ackermann sat in front of the dining table with his mind all over the place. His maid, Liz, looked at him speechlessly upon noticing how distracted he was.

“Your Highness, are you sure you didn’t bump your head?”

“I didn’t.”

“You can’t tell the difference between dream and reality and are even feeling distressed over it. There has to be something wrong with your head, right?”

“I can tell the difference between dream and reality. What’s bothering me is that this isn’t the first time this has happened,” Paul said with a perplexed frown.

Liz blinked contemplatively before clapping her hands in realization and saying, “Ah! Yes, something similar did happen last week. You sat on the bed for a long time.”

“Yes, I’m referring to that.”

“I get it now. It’s a relapse!”

“???” Paul was baffled by Liz’s response, but he wasn’t angered by her words.

Despite being an imperial prince of the Austine Empire, Paul Ackermann had lived most of his life as a normal civilian, so he wasn’t fussy about etiquette, not to mention that Liz had braved tough times with him. While she was his maid, their relationship was more like that of siblings. He always took her jokes with a light-hearted attitude.

Born as an illegitimate child, Paul was ostracized within the Austine Empire’s circle of nobility. While his standard of living had improved compared to back when he was a civilian, as he received the bare minimum of what an imperial prince was entitled to, he had not been prepared for the snobbery he would receive.

No one was willing to serve him, and some even avoided him like the plague. A servant’s standing corresponded to their master’s, so being assigned to an illegitimate child was as good as being exiled for them. The only one who remained by his side was the young Liz.

This was also why he didn’t mind her jokes.

“Liz, how often do you remember your dreams?”

“I don’t think I remember any of my dreams. That’s true for most people, right?”

“That’s what I thought too, but I remember everything clearly,” Paul murmured worriedly.

Liz blinked in surprise.

Dreams should have been fleeting, but this common sense had failed twice for Paul now. Be it the dream he had a week ago or the one today, he vividly remembered not just the contents of the dream but the black-haired woman’s expression, the surrounding temperature, and even the pain suffered by the black-haired man.

It felt more like the recollection of a deeply imprinted memory than a dream. Something was off here.

“That doesn’t sound like something that can happen with a bump of your head,” Liz analyzed.

“I’m telling you I didn’t bump my head!” Paul exclaimed.

“What kind of dream was it?”

“Ah… How should I put it? I was beaten up?”

“Huh?”

Liz narrowed her eyes in confusion, but Paul had no idea where to start explaining the matter to her.

The dream he had last week was similar to the one he just had—he had approached that black-haired woman for help, only to be pounded into the ground. The only difference was that the black-haired woman had previously gone easy on him, whereas she was more vicious this time, possibly due to his provocation.

The black-haired woman was overwhelmingly powerful, but she wasn’t the only strong one here. The black-haired man, whom Paul had taken a first-person perspective of inside the dream, was very strong as well, being at least Origin Level 2.

Paul had focused on developing his transcendent abilities since the Challenger Cup. In the past year, he successfully made a breakthrough to Origin Level 3 and joined the battlefield.

Even with the Sia Continent’s increased mana concentration, Origin Level 3 transcendents were still powerhouses not to be made light of. Yet, Paul didn’t think that he could rival the man in the dream, and this was evident from the armor.

The man in the dream was also utilizing the Kingdom Origin Attribute and possessed abilities identical to his. However, the armor that man had used inside the dream was beyond what he was capable of.

If that man is at Origin Level 2, that woman is likely at Origin Level 1.

Paul was taken aback by that realization, especially since the black-haired woman didn’t look much older than him. This showed just how talented she was. Furthermore, her appearance…

“That woman feels a lot like big brother Roel…”

“What?!” Liz clasped her mouth in shock. “While I did consider this possibility, I never thought that you would be so infatuated with Lord Roel as to dream of him as a woman…”

“That’s not what I mean! I’m referring to her hair color, eye color, and her ability! Don’t you think that you’re being too dramatic?” Paul retorted.

He thought about the conversation between the man and the woman in his dream. He didn’t know the context behind their words, but he could make some deductions from their exchange.

However, that was all there was to it.

While Paul was indeed concerned about the dream, there was no way he would act on something as inexplicable as that. Besides, it was said that a person’s dream was influenced by their surroundings. By this line of thought, it wasn’t too perplexing for him to have such a dream.

“Liz, you mentioned that you had something to report.”

“Yes, Your Highness. Lord Roel has been saved. The Battle of Scorched Earth was a success.”

“That’s great!” Paul excitedly clenched his fist.

He could finally put down the boulder weighing down his heart, though, at the same time, he also felt ashamed for not being able to rush straight to Roel’s aid.

He had known from the start that the Theocracy was liaising with the other nations to put together a force to rescue Roel from the deviants; his ex-fellow vice chief, Geralt, was the one who informed him about it.

The two of them were incredibly excited back when they first learned that Roel was still alive. Paul had even found an excuse to run off and join Geralt’s team. Yet, shortly after he learned about the news, Emperor Lukas suddenly assigned Paul to the back line, strictly forbidding him to head to the battlefield.

Paul was perplexed by the order, but he had no choice but to obey. Unlike Lilian, he wasn’t backed by an army of 500,000 soldiers. He wasn’t strong enough to shoulder the consequences of going against Emperor Lukas.

It was a relief that everything went well, and Roel was able to return safely. It should only be a matter of time before they reunited. By then, his weird dreams should have come to an end.

With such thoughts in mind, Paul delightfully celebrated the return of his good friend.

Meanwhile, Emperor Lukas was also browsing a war report from the frontline, but his feelings were very different.

…

In a dark room, two men sat at the ends of a long table. It was their second meeting this month, but the atmosphere was vastly different from before.

The man seated closer to the door had an impassive expression and icy-cold eyes, whereas the man with a blurred face sat in the midst of the shadows, looking a little anxious.

The two of them stared at each other for a long time before Emperor Lukas broke the silence with a voice devoid of warmth. “You didn’t fulfill your promise.”

The Collector was silent for a long while before replying, “If you’re referring to the Kingmaker, then yes, Banjol has failed. This isn’t what I predicted. This is unusual.”

He tapped his finger on the table in vexation as he continued, “Banjol is a Race Sovereign from the ancient era, a true god. Not even the Kingmaker, at Origin Level 2, should have the power to oppose him. Something unbeknownst to us must have happened in the last Witness State.”

“Such as…?”

“…Such as the Mother Goddess’ interference. Yes, that must have been the case.” The Collector nodded as he recalled the silver moon in the sky when Roel returned to the real world. “While the Kingmaker might have been the one to defeat Banjol, this is actually the Mother Goddess’ counterattack. That would explain the intervention of those ancient calamities.”

“So what?” Emperor Lukas replied without any fluctuation in his voice, unmoved by the Collector’s deduction. “The fact is that the Kingmaker has become stronger. That’s all that matters. And your faction has suffered a crushing blow.”

“Crushing blow? Not at all. Losing Banjol was outside my expectations, but we have achieved our aim.” The Collector slowly settled into his chair as he smiled at Emperor Lukas. “Our true aim is the Egg of the Beast God. Banjol has fulfilled his purpose from the moment of its birth.”

“Is that so? Based on what I have heard, your ace was quickly defeated by the Six Calamities. Your faction is also losing control over the deviants.”

“It might appear so, but the Egg of the Beast God is our supreme god’s creation. It can’t be destroyed that easily. As for the deviants, I concede that we’re struggling to control them after having lost Banjol, but their nature has determined that they would stand on our side.”

“I see.” Emperor Lukas nodded in agreement with that sentiment, but before the Collector could continue his words, he suddenly stood up and said, “Let’s end our partnership here.”

“What?”

“You failed to kill him. I cooperated with you to clear the path to the Abyss, but with the Deviant Sovereign’s death, there are no longer any threats to me there. I can reach there with my own strength,” Emperor Lukas said.

“…”

The Collector fell silent. He stared at Lukas for a few seconds before speaking up. “Have you forgotten about the seal? It’ll be futile to head there if you can’t release the seal.”

“The seal?”

“We might have failed to kill the Kingmaker, but we are the only ones who can unravel that seal. You need us.”

“No, you’re mistaken. My goal is different from yours.”

“!” The Collector jolted.

“I don’t need you anymore,” Emperor Lukas said icily.

Without any warning, an unimaginable surge of mana burst forth as countless lights surged out from him. In response, the shadows around the Collector darkened.

“Lukas, you seem to have forgotten where you are,” the Collector coldly uttered.

With a light wave of his hand, he raised a spatial quake that swiftly ripped in Lukas’ direction, causing their surroundings to crumble. However, Emperor Lukas remained unfazed despite the danger approaching him.

“You are the one who has forgotten where you are.”

As Emperor Lukas squeezed his hand into a fist, a blade suddenly appeared out of nowhere and pierced through the Collector’s chest, puncturing his heart.

“This is…!”

The Collector was horrified, but before he could say anything else, dozens more magic blades suddenly manifested out of thin air and shredded his body.

Pu!

Blood and flesh splattered all over this dark room.

Emperor Lukas looked at the Collector’s bloodied remains before quietly turning around and walking away. At the same time, the countless weapons he had conjured slowly dissipated.

Moments later, this elusive space began to crumble in on itself. A silhouette flashed across the bloodied long table and descended into the boundless darkness.