In mere minutes, the unfortunate guard was dragged into the courtyard—the very same courtyard where Artis had once met his grisly end, split in two.
Axel, now inhabiting Artis' body, instinctively touched his own neck, feeling a shiver run down his spine as memories of the character's demise flooded his mind. He took a deep breath, steeling himself.
Standing beside the thrashing guard, whose arms and legs flailed helplessly, Axel watched as two other guards held him in place, their expressions indifferent to the condemned man's struggles.
"Someone dared to commit this unspeakable act?! Does he not fear me?!"
A deep, authoritative voice boomed across the courtyard. The voice carried a power that made even the air seem heavier. It was the Patriarch himself, a towering man of great stature. Even at 6'4", Artis—or rather, Axel—had to look up at the patriarch, who stood just a bit taller, his broad shoulders radiating dominance.
Axel swallowed nervously, watching the Patriarch's expression darken. This was a man whose very presence could make mountains tremble.
"Father, there's no need for discussion. We should execute him now and be done with it. If word gets out that someone dared to peek at the Matriarch under your watch, we'll lose all the face we've worked so hard to maintain."
Axel felt genuine surprise. The young master, who was normally portrayed as erratic, reckless, and drunk more often than sober, was speaking with a level of composure and calculation that Axel hadn't expected. Wasn't this guy supposed to be a fool, a perfect stepping stone for the true protagonist?
But now, seeing him in the flesh, the young master seemed far more dangerous than the character Axel had remembered reading about. The cold glint in his eyes and the calculating way he handled the situation... this wasn't the erratic fool from the novel.
The lines between dream and reality had long blurred for him. This felt too real, too immersive, and Axel found himself savoring every moment of the role he was playing in this world.
"Losing face is one thing," the Patriarch's calm voice echoed across the courtyard, "but allowing any man to see me as weak for failing to punish someone who committed such an unspeakable act is unacceptable."
Axel grinned inwardly. The Patriarch was falling into the web he'd spun. Everything was proceeding smoothly.
But then, the Patriarch's tone shifted, more pointed now.
"But tell me something, Jin... Why are this man's eyes gouged out?"
Young Master Jin exchanged a brief glance with his father before turning his gaze toward Axel. The tension in the air was palpable, but Axel's expression remained unreadable, a mask of calm calculation.
Seeing the silent exchange, the Patriarch shifted his focus to Axel, his deep voice filled with authority.
"Why did you take it upon yourself to punish this man, boy? What right do you have to deliver judgment? He wronged my wife, so it is only fair that I punish him."
Any other disciple would have knelt instantly under the weight of such a question. But not Axel. No, Artis—or Axel as him—was not the same trembling lackey he once was.
He didn't bow or lower his head. Instead, he raised his chin and locked eyes with the Patriarch, meeting the gaze of a man whose mere presence could crush others.
"She may be your wife, my lord, but she is also my Matriarch. The one I swore to protect when I joined this sect. If any perverted dog dares to lay their eyes on her with lust, then I will make sure that's the last thing they ever see. And if their final sight is a heavenly beauty, then that's more than they deserve."
Artis delivered the words with a fierce conviction that reverberated through the courtyard. Everyone froze, shocked by the audacity of a man who had always been on the lower rungs of the sect. Even the Patriarch, with his immense presence, was silent for a long moment, his eyes narrowing at the bold declaration.
And then, the Patriarch chuckled. A deep, rumbling sound that echoed in the stillness.
"Well said."
The Patriarch's lips curled into a grin.
"You did what others should have done. Your courage and loyalty to the Matriarch are commendable. I'm impressed. To think, someone like you, who always found themselves on the wrong side of trouble, would be the one to act so decisively."
His chuckle grew, and soon, the rest of the guards and disciples followed suit, laughing nervously. Even Artis allowed a small smirk to cross his lips, though his mind was racing.
'So C0cktimusPrime's characters really are as shallow as they seem. Just stroke their egos, and they fold like paper. What an idiot of an author, but at least the manipulation works.'
In a world where power is paramount, inflating their egos is the quickest route to ascendancy. It's how one gets what they desire.
'Do I feel pity for this guard? Absolutely not. Pity is for fools, and I am no fool.'
The guard had been biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to see Artis disposed of. Whatever happened next, he brought upon himself. If someone seeks to kill you, you strike first. If someone plans to betray you, then you must be the one to betray.
"My lord, may I have a word—"
"No. Not now, Pliney. This fool must be dealt with. I cannot allow anyone to think I am weak. If a junior apprentice like Artis can take decisive action, then it is my duty to respond accordingly. I am no coward. Jin, see to it that this is resolved."
"Gladly."
Young Master Jin flashed a toothy grin as he extended his palm. Chen, Artis's brother-in-law, swiftly unsheathed his sword and placed it firmly into Jin's hand.
With the sword in hand, Jin approached the guard, a malicious smile spreading across his face as he turned to Artis.
"You did well today, brother."
"Anything for you and this family, Young Master. After all, I am who I am today because of you. This is the least I can do to repay you."
"Good. At least you understand the value of gratitude."
With that, Jin raised the sword high above his head, just as described in the novel, and brought it down with lethal intent.
Here goes nothing…
Axel braced himself as the blade descended, its metal glinting ominously in the moonlight. Artis's body jerked involuntarily, and he closed his eyes instinctively as warm blood splattered across his face—the blood that should have belonged to him.
When he reopened his eyes, the guard lay split in two, severed from head to cock.
A sinister smile crept onto Artis's lips. One might expect a typical 19-year-old from a peaceful realm, someone who had never witnessed the horrors of life, to be paralyzed with shock at the sight of blood and carnage. But that was far from the case.
"This calls for a celebration! What do you think, Chen? Shouldn't we toast to this small victory for your brother-in-law?"
Jin glanced back at Chen, who eagerly gave a double thumbs-up. After all, Artis had just dispatched a pervert who dared to peek at his mother. As a responsible future leader, it was only fitting to celebrate such a triumph.
"Yes, Young Master. This is indeed a small victory and deserves recognition. I'll instruct the servants to prepare a grand feast for tonight. A feast worthy of the occasion!"
The Patriarch nodded in agreement with Chen's proposal, his expression one of approval.
...
From a distance, atop the Patriarch's palace, two sets of azure orbs were observing the scene unfold with keen interest. Both were in separate rooms, yet their gazes were fixated on the unfolding drama.
One belonged to the mature beauty Artis had been peeking at. Clad in a flowing white robe that accentuated her curves, she watched the spectacle with a glint of intrigue in her eyes.
Why was she so captivated? Because she knew the man who had just met his end was merely an innocent pawn, while the true serpent slithered away, basking in applause and accolades.
"Ara ara, I will be watching you closely from now on, dear Artis."
She mused, a wicked smile curling on her lips as she crossed her arms, her breasts lifting enticingly as she did so.
In another room, a relatively young woman observed the scene with keen interest. Her blue one-piece dress clung to her curves, a sultry inheritance from her mother, accentuating her figure in all the right places.
Perched on the windowsill beside her was a sleek black cat, its emerald eyes fixed on the unfolding drama below. The feline's gaze followed the three men as they walked away from the bloody spectacle, seemingly headed toward the tavern, while servants rushed to clean up the aftermath of the carnage.
"This is fascinating... truly fascinating, don't you think, Rae?"
The young lady of the sect mused, her fingers gently stroking the cat's velvety ear as it purred contentedly in response.