Honest had never expected Esdeath's response: rather than stopping after one spoonful of that sinister blood, she greedily scooped up another. That was only the beginning. Honest stared, slack-jawed, as she lifted the entire jar and drained every drop of its cursed contents.
At first, he'd been too stunned to even react. But then, as an overwhelming chill erupted outward from Esdeath, Honest found himself completely immobilized, trapped behind a wall of frost. He'd briefly considered what he might do if Esdeath lost control, only to arrive at a hopeless realization—he had absolutely no options left.
True, his own Teigu was special. It could nullify and destroy other Imperial Arms—even the so-called "strongest" among them. But how could he possibly target an enemy who'd swallowed the Teigu itself?
It was like holding the ultimate trump card in a game, only to discover your enemy was in an untargetable state. He was utterly screwed.
CRASH!
The chalice shattered on the stone floor, jolting Honest back to reality. Pressed against the wall, he trembled as he stared at Esdeath in mute horror.
Her pale blue hair had turned an eerie blend of white and icy blue. Her hands were completely coated in frost, and the fragments of the jar she'd gripped had turned entirely to crystalized ice. Frost radiated from her body in waves, seeping into every corner of the chamber.
Without question, he'd succeeded—Esdeath's current strength now eclipsed even Great General Budo at his peak. But at the same time, he'd utterly failed. Watching Esdeath, Honest couldn't determine if she'd truly gained the Teigu's power, or if she'd simply become its slave. One thing was certain: he'd lost any hope of controlling her.
He had created something that should never exist—a monster without equal.
...
Back in Budo's office, Lancer had barely kept himself in check. His overwhelming killing intent had spilled forth freely—but ultimately, he'd restrained himself.
Because he knew, bitterly, that alone he could neither kill Honest nor rescue Leone.
He needed the Empire's help.
Upon hearing from Budo that assembling the Teigu users and troops to crush Honest's southern rebellion would take at least two days, Lancer had immediately left the Capital. Neither Budo nor the Emperor questioned his departure; they recognized him as a powder keg ready to explode, and it was safer for everyone if he vented his fury elsewhere.
Nobody knew exactly where Lancer went during those two days. But when he finally returned, his mere presence screamed one unmistakable warning: Keep away or die.
If Lancer had previously come across as aloof or unsociable, the moment he re-entered the Capital gates this time, the guards nearly sounded an alarm.
Outwardly, nothing had changed about his appearance since he'd left two days ago. Yet the overwhelming stench of blood clinging to him was unmistakable. It froze soldiers in their tracks, made their knees buckle, and caused ordinary citizens passing through the gate to collapse in terror.
In the past, Lancer would've concealed his aura. He disliked involving innocent bystanders. But right now, all he could think about was tearing Honest apart. He had no room left for consideration or restraint.
He realized how naïve he'd been before. He possessed such immense power—why hide it?
He wouldn't harm innocents who'd done him no wrong, but neither would he sacrifice the people he cared about to spare others' feelings.
He could ignore all the rumors and slander hurled his way, but what about Leone?
From now on, he would no longer suppress himself for others. But tragically, there was no one left for him to protect anymore…
...
By the time Lancer reached the Imperial Guard barracks in front of the palace, Budo was already waiting for him.
Noticing Lancer's grim demeanor, Budo frowned slightly but said nothing. Though he felt he'd done all he reasonably could, the fact remained that Leone had been kidnapped. Fortunately, Lancer hadn't completely lost control or blamed him personally, but Budo understood it was best to tread carefully. It wasn't that he couldn't handle Lancer—he simply saw no reason to invite unnecessary trouble, especially since Lancer was his most promising future subordinate.
"Lancer, you'll lead this strike team. Meet your teammates."
Several familiar faces appeared once again.
Bulat and Liver had joined the team, with Liver wielding the [Water Dragon Possession: Black Marlin]. There was also a handsome young man carrying [Purgatory's Invitation: Rubicante]. At first, Lancer didn't recognize him, until realization clicked. Honest had yet to seize power, meaning the Imperial Incineration Squad didn't exist yet, and Bols naturally had no reason to wear his infamous mask.
Aside from these three known faces, two unfamiliar ones were present. One was a heavily muscled, white-haired brute equipped with [Carnage Incarnate: Grand Chariot], while the other was a gloomy-looking man carrying no visible Teigu. However, Budo introduced him as the wielder of the [Almighty Five Sights: Spectator].
As for why he wasn't actively using it? The answer was obvious—they were in the Imperial Guard barracks, mere steps from the Imperial Palace. If he accidentally glimpsed something forbidden... well, the consequences would be dire indeed.
Counting Lancer, their team totaled six Teigu users. The remaining Imperial Guard members needed to remain in the Capital for security. Lancer had no complaints about this arrangement. Intelligence indicated Honest controlled at most four or five Teigu wielders himself. Ultimately, the squad's role wasn't direct assassination, but to buy Lancer the time and space he needed.
Standing to the side, Bulat edged closer to Liver with a complicated expression.
"Captain Liver… What's gotten into Lancer today?"
The thick scent of blood and killing intent radiating from Lancer's body dwarfed even Bulat's own post-battle presence. Initially, Bulat even wondered if he'd mistaken someone else for Lancer entirely.
When Lancer had slaughtered thousands of tribal warriors at the northern fortress and displayed their corpses on wooden spears, Bulat had found the act brutal yet ultimately acceptable. In his eyes, enemy deaths that saved allies were justified.
Even then, Lancer's harshness in giving orders hadn't made Bulat fear him. But now…
He looked like a demon.
A genuine demon—not just in name, like his Teigu, [Demon Armor: Incursio].
Liver shook his head slowly. Watching Lancer now, he vividly recalled their first mission together.
Back then, he'd seen Lancer as painfully naïve, to the point he feared Lancer would drag down the entire team. Survival deep behind enemy lines wasn't just about raw power. Yet Lancer's rapid transformation had astonished him beyond belief.
"It's the same as back then…" Liver muttered quietly.
He was right. Lancer was no longer just an "executioner"—he'd become a wrathful avenger, driven solely by rage and vengeance.
---
T/N: DID SOMEONE SAY EXECUTIONER?????
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