NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 96: Regicide
Ren glanced around the room. While it was not as luxurious as the palace rooms, it was a room befitting a king.
His eyes glossed over the luxury on display, searching for something far more important. Where do I hide?
His eyes landed on the wardrobe. That was the only place out of sight that could hold him.
He walked forwards and opened it to see the king's clothes hanging from a line, each attire so wide, he was sure it could fit three of him and still have space for more.
With a grimace, he crammed himself into the tight place, his back to the wall. Pulling the door closed, he left a crack through which he could see the whole room.
And so, he began to wait.
Time slowly ticked on in silence but Ren stayed focused. If it was the Ren that had just arrived in Albion, he wouldn't have been able to do it but this Ren had spent years taking blood while having insufficient sleep. This was a piece of cake.
He crouched there for hours, not moving a muscle. This far into the colosseum, the sounds of the crowd couldn't reach here.
He had no idea how long had passed or how long was left but that didn't matter. His entire plan hinged on patience and he had it in spades.
After an indeterminable amount of time, the doors of the room creaked open.
The king waddled into the room, humming an offkey tune. This was the first time Ren was seeing him in person and he had to admit that the scant pictures on his wiki page hadn't done the man justice.
The king's robe hung loosely off his shoulders, and the man's belly sagged over his belt.
Ren stayed still, watching as the man closed the door behind him and locked it from inside.
Perfect.
The king continued his humming as his hand crept upward and he began pulling off his clothes, removing layer after layer of clothing, until he was completely bare.
Then, he moved to a table beside the bed, pouring himself a glass of wine, swirling it lazily before taking a long gulp. He began humming an old ballad that Ren recognized, swaying his body as if he was his own dance partner.
Ren clapped a hand on his mouth, trying to stop himself from gagging at the sight.
He had prepared himself for this moment. He had spent hours planning how he'd strike. He'd imagined every possible scenario. Where the man would stand, how he would react, what he would say.
But he had not, in all his planning, accounted for this. The sight of the king's flabby flesh bouncing in rhythm as he danced fully naked.
He'd seen a lot of horrifying things at the battlefront but this… This must be why the king likes being alone in his room. What the fuck?
Ren didn't know when his hand had already wrapped itself around his dagger. How much longer did he have to watch this? How long did he have to wait for the king to drink enough to dull his reflexes?
Then, out of nowhere, an arrow struck.
There was a meaty thunk as an obsidian arrow appeared out of thin air, piercing straight through the king's heart.
The impact sent the king stumbling backward, his glass slipping from his fingers and shattering against the floor. A wet gurgle escaped his lips as he clutched at his chest, his eyes wide with shock.
He staggered, falling to his knees before slumping forward, the life draining from him as blood pooled beneath his body.
Ren stared at the king in shock.
Octavian.
The man had beaten him to it.
For a moment, the room was silent but for the dying wheeze of the king. Then, a blue blob of energy rose from the body, Ren recognizing it in an instant. That was the king's soul.
Ren's body moved on instinct. He burst from the wardrobe, crossing the room. His hand shot out, snatching the soul out of the air before it could escape.
And for a single second, he felt it.
The accumulation of years of emotions. The weariness of ruling. The regrets, the corruption, the gluttony that had consumed what once was a warrior king. A pathetic legacy.
A second later, he felt a tug on the soul in his hand. Without waiting for it to slip away, he crushed the soul into nothingness, watching as it dissipated.
He stood there for a second, taking in this new experience, then he slowly blinked back into awareness.
His eyes moved down to the corpse in front of him. Octavian hadn't seen the King's death with his own eyes. That means it was now a race against time. Whoever claimed the death first would get Lilith.
Without hesitation, Ren drew his blade and severed the king's head.
Blood dripped onto the carpets as he lifted the head, its glazed-over eyes staring into nothing. Stuffing it into a sack he'd brought for this purpose, he stood. It didn't matter that he wasn't the one who landed the killing blow.
History belonged to the one who claimed it.
With a mental reach towards one of the coins he'd seeded through Steadfast, he disappeared.
After confirming that no one had noticed him, he stretched his hand for the hidden coin and it bounced into his palm. Keeping to the shadows, he made his way as fast as he could through the city until he got to Anders' private mansion.
He sneaked into the house, entering through the back door where Lars was already waiting.
The man's eyes flicked to the sack in Ren's grip before nodding. "Come." He said, and turned away.
Ren followed the man until they got to the sitting room where Anders was lounging, drinking wine as always. Lars walked forward to stand to the side and behind Anders.
The Penny Prince looked up, and his grin stretched wide at the sight before him.
"Well, well, well." He drawled, setting down his drink. "The assassin returns. That didn't take long at all."
Ren reached into his bag and tossed the head to the floor.
It landed with a wet thud, rolling slightly before coming to a stop at Anders' feet.
Lars bent down, verifying that it was the king before giving Anders a small nod.
Anders' eyes widened in delight. "Wow!" He crowed. "You really do exceed expectations, Ren. Most impressive."
"Where's Lilith?" Ren asked flatly.
Anders raised a brow at his question. "Now, now. No need to rush the moment. Let's savor it. The great King of Albion, reduced to nothing more than a trophy. You should be proud."
Ren glared at the man. "Lilith. Now."
Anders exhaled in mock disappointment, before gesturing to Lars, who moved to a nearby cupboard and brought back an official looking scroll.
"It's a good thing I've made the preparations for this in advance." Anders said as he unsealed the scroll, spreading it out on the table before them. "I've already concluded the investigation. All that is needed is my signature."
Dipping a quill in ink, he scrawled his signature with deliberate slowness, a grin on his face as he dragged out the moment. When he was done, he pressed his seal onto the parchment before handing it off to Lars.
"There you have it." Anders said, gesturing to the paper. "Lilith Underwood is absolved of all wrongdoing. Her name is cleared, and her record wiped clean. The deaths of the nobles have been placed on the assassin's shoulders."
Lars rolled up the scroll and tucked it into a small case before giving a short bow. "I'll deliver it to the palace immediately and bring Lady Underwood here once the process is complete."
Ren didn't allow himself to show relief. It was not yet over.
"Good." He muttered.
Anders gestured lazily to the chair opposite him. "You should relax, Ren. You've just committed regicide. That's something to celebrate, isn't it?"
Ren didn't answer.
Anders chuckled. "Fine, fine. I won't keep you waiting. But I rather think you'll like what I've prepared for you."
He took a sip of his wine, unable to stop himself from grinning. "Consider it a reward for your efficiency."