King? No, Emperor!
Compared to his previous nightmare, Lumian could now âseeâ him more clearly. The dark-red-haired man behind the narrow glass window bore a striking resemblance to Count Poufer.
It was identical to Lumian Lee from Cordu Village, not the current Ciel Dubois!
When the dark-red-haired man with Lumianâs face gouged out the bloody eyeball, Lumianâs eyes ached, and his vision darkened.
Simultaneously, wild laughter echoed in his ears, infecting him to the point where he wanted to release his frustration, unleash violence, and satisfy his bloodlust.
Suddenly, his right palm heated up, and pure madness surged into his mind.
Out of nowhere, frustration, violence, and bloodthirst surged out of him as the maniacal laughter instantly ended.
Lumianâs vision returned to normal, and he saw Novelist Anori sitting across from him, with Count Poufer beside him.
They grinned as they observed the other participants selecting slices of Kingâs Pie, completely unaware of the unusual changes happening to Lumian.
Lumian counted the Kingâs Pie slices that had vanished and glanced at Laurent, who was engrossed in his choice. He realized that only a few seconds had elapsed, but it felt like an eternity.
Drawing upon his Alms Monk abilities, he resisted the emotional turmoil stirred by the Blood Emperorâs presence. He faintly perceived a peculiar, insane, bloody, and ruthless mental impression lingering in the void above him.
The desire to infiltrate Lumianâs body, sending shivers down his spine, remained suppressed by Alista Tudorâs hidden aura; it dared not descend. Instead, it circled above the living room, akin to vultures eager to feast on carcasses but cautious of nearby predators.
None of the participants in the Kingâs Pie game detected the existence of such a manic spirit glaring fiercely at them from above. They giggled and selected their slices of Kingâs Pie.
Come, dance with the Blood Emperor! Letâs see whoâs crazier, you or Alista Tudor! Lumian scoffed inwardly, his emotions in turmoil.
Of course, he understood that his Blood Emperor aura was a mere facade. If the spirit were to forcefully enter his body, he wouldnât have the power to resist it. All he could do was hope that Mr. Foolâs seal would activate and yield some effect.
However, judging by appearances, the frenzied and cruel spirit lacked any rationality. It operated solely on instinct and harbored an innate fear.
Lumian took a moment to collect himself. While observing Elros and the others choose their Kingâs Pie slices and sensing the frenzied spiritâs erratic movements, he contemplated the corresponding dilemma.
This appears to be the core of the Sauron familyâs Kingâs Pie gameâŠ
Poufer employs his bloodline and a simplified ritual to summon the lingering spirit of his ancestor, allowing it to inhabit the person who consumes the symbol and becomes the kingâŠ
If a frenzied and bloodthirsty spirit were to truly take control of my body and corrode my mind, I might lose my sanity instantly. Itâs nearly impossible for ordinary individuals to resist such a force. What does Count Poufer rely on to maintain his composure? At the very least, he seems normal and has become king countless timesâŠ
No wonder Termiboros insisted I switch slices last time. If I were to lose control, He wouldnât fare any betterâŠ
Son of a sow! Why didnât you warn me today? Did you choose to remain silent because you knew I possessed the Blood Emperorâs aura and wouldnât succumb to this insane mental invasion?
Could it be that the Sauron family has a special method for preserving the spirit of a high-ranking individual across generations? Or could Vermonda Sauron actually still be alive? Or perhaps the Beyonder trait he left behind has become too corrupted? Is the Sauron family attempting to gradually eradicate it using this method? But itâs been two to three hundred years!
Hmm, this crazy spirit continues to hover above my head without descending⊠Will it eventually retreat, change its target, or trigger other alterations?
Lumian remained on high alert, keeping a constant watch on the frenzied spirit lingering in the air.
If it displayed any signs of forcefully invading through the Blood Emperorâs aura or causing other unfavorable developments, Lumian would opt to âteleportâ away.
Anori, Mullen, Iraeta, and the others each selected their Kingâs Pie slices, leaving only the one reserved for Vermonda Sauron on the plate.
Count Poufer surveyed the surroundings with a grin and declared, âEveryone, letâs dig in. The one who finds that gold coin will be the king for today.â
With that, he elegantly sampled a portion of the Kingâs Pie in his hand, then took a few more bites. His countenance gradually shifted from one of confidence to one of blank panic.
There was no gold coin!
Count Poufer stared at the other participants in disbelief, his assurance of control crumbling.
In that moment, a single thought consumed his mind:
No, this canât be! Iâm the one who most closely resembles my ancestor!
His eyes fixed on Elros, the sole guest possessing the Sauron familyâs bloodline.
Though Elros was perplexed by her cousinâs frantic and intense gaze, she still took a few bites of her Kingâs Pie slice.
Yet, still, there was no gold coin to be found.
Count Pouferâs confusion deepened. His gaze darted around, his mind racing with conjectures.
Could there be an illegitimate son of a family member here?
No, even if there were, I bear the closest resemblance to the ancestor!
Could a high-ranking member of the Hunter pathway be present?
Impossible!
Or perhaps someone here has been tainted in the underground world?
Lumian noticed Count Pouferâs distressed head-scratching, and most of the game participants had sampled their Kingâs Pie slices. He gradually lifted his right hand and took a bite.
As anticipated, his teeth encountered a solid metallic object.
He spat out the item onto his left palm. It was, without a doubt, a 10-verl dâor gold coin.
Novelist Anori let out a chuckle.
âAh, a new king at last. It being always Poufer tires me out. He was getting rather dull with his pranks.â
Lumian picked up the gold coin and cast a cold glance at Anori.
âWho gave you permission to speak?â
Anoriâs body quivered, and he instinctively clamped his mouth shut.
Lumian struggled to maintain control over the influence of the Blood Emperorâs aura. He sensed the frenzied spirit above him spiraling faster and faster, as if growing more impatient and savage.
He surveyed the surroundings leisurely and offered a smile.
âFrom this moment forward, I am your King. Or would you prefer to address me as Emperor?â
For some inexplicable reason, all the participants, including Count Poufer and Miss Elros, experienced a stirring in their hearts, as if they were compelled to heed Lumianâs commands.
Of course, it was merely a pulsing sensation, induced by the combined impact of his words and aura.
Among them, Poet Iraeta, who had recently entered into a sponsorship agreement with Ciel Dubois, rose nonchalantly, pressed his hand to his chest, and bowed.
âIndeed, Your Majesty!â
The others followed suit, either embracing the spirit of the game or yielding to the pulsing sensations in their hearts. They stood and offered their bows in their own unique ways.
âIndeed, Your Majesty.â
Lumianâs lips curled into a satisfied smile as he signaled for everyone to retake their seats.
Then, he turned his gaze towards Count Poufer and raised his chin slightly.
âI command you to present 30,000 verl dâor worth of gold.â
Count Poufer was taken aback, a whirlwind of complex emotions surging within him.
This was the first time he had been subjected to the Kingâs Pie commands.
He had an urge to respond with a jest, but he remembered the gravity of the consequences if he disobeyed the kingâs orders during this mystical game. He would meet a dreadful fate.
Count Poufer clenched his teeth and rose from his seat.
âIndeed, Your Majesty.â
Exiting the living room, he ascended to a floor of the castleâs main building and retrieved five hefty gold bars from a secure vault.
For him, parting with 30,000 verl dâor wasnât a significant loss.
Seeing Count Poufer offering him gold bars totaling 30,000 verl dâor, Lumian couldnât help but feel a pang of regret.
Had he known that his orders would be followed to the letter, he might have demanded even more!
The dilemma now lies in how to discreetly make off with the gold later. In normal circumstances, even if I accepted 30,000 verl dâor in person, I would have to privately return it. Failing to do so could offend Count Poufer⊠Moreover, I need to figure out how to explain to Gardner Martin that I had become king while remaining unaffected. Lumian pondered as he tucked away the five gold bars.
Then, he turned to Novelist Anori.
âYour mission is to bestow a kiss upon someone here. Your target isâŠâ
As Anori eagerly eyed the beautiful women present, Lumian pointed towards Poet Iraeta, who had just taken a puff from his pipe.
âOur poet.â
A momentary silence hung in the air, followed by a whistle from one of the guests, and then the others joined in.
Reluctantly, Anori stood up and muttered, âI really donât want to kiss that guy with bad breath. I could accept it if it were MullenâŠâ
Despite his reservations, he complied, giving Iraeta a gentle kiss on the lips.
Iraeta took it in stride, chuckling, and remarked, âI can sense your discomfort, Anori. Pull yourself together. Donât act like a naive country bumpkin.â
Lumian observed with an impassive expression, his attention primarily drawn to the swirling madness.
Though it refrained from attempting to invade anyoneâs body, the influence of the madness made everyone slightly restless, their emotions displaying signs of instability.
Upon hearing Iraetaâs teasing, Anoriâs countenance turned icy, as if he contemplated picking up a table knife and stabbing him.
However, he ultimately restrained himself.
Lumian suspected that as the game unfolded, the participants would grow increasingly agitated, irritable, and prone to bloodlust while the madness continued to linger.
At that very moment, a piercing, terrified scream echoed from somewhere within the castle.