The answer did not come right away. The low, red eyes seemed to be looking towards the floor, but then they looked at the Demon King again and then looked towards the floor again.
Soon, a slightly cracked voice came out in a rough tone.
"Do you know why the Duke did what he did?"
"... No? How can I know the true intentions of mere humans?"
Could it be that he noticed something? The Demon King's nerves were tense.
Fortunately, Deon lowered his eyes and said, "Is that so?" as if he had just thrown it away, then raised his head again and asked the question that seemed to be his original purpose.
"... Can't we turn back time... with magic?"
"Hmm?"
The Demon King, who was surprised by the unexpected question and realized for a moment what the question was asking, arched his eyebrows as if he felt sorry.
"Magic is not omnipotent. There are areas that can never be touched no matter what, and the most representative ones are raising the dead and turning back time."
"... I see. All right."
"..."
The Demon King, who was expecting hemoptysis and seizures and was about to call Ben, who had been waiting outside, paused at the reaction, which was much calmer than expected.
Deon calmly turned around, as if he didn't notice the Demon King's signs. He walked towards the door and looked back at the Demon King for a moment before putting his hand on the handle.
"I'm going to go to the human world for a while."
"..."
Instead of an answer, a flustered silence returned, but as if that was enough, he placed his hand on the doorknob.
The Demon King expressed his belated approval by not bothering to stop him.
...
"Demon!"
When he opened the door and came out, the person he met was Ben.
The man who was restlessly pacing in front of the door suddenly approached, looking anxious, as if he had been waiting. There was blatant concern as his gaze scanned his body's condition.
"Are you feeling okay? You still have a bad fever, so if you move like this..."
"..."
"... Demon...?"
"..."
It wasn't long before he felt something strange.
Ben, who had been walking at Deon's pace and unable to help him as he stumbled, and was giving advice filled with concern, stopped in place. He was standing here, but he was walking forward without stopping as if he couldn't even see him.
Ben, startled by the sight of someone seemingly lost, hurriedly walked to his side.
"Demon, can you hear me?"
"..."
"Demon?"
"..."
"Demon!"
"Keuk, keuk!"
Blood dripped down his chin.
As usual, urgent action had to be taken, but Ben couldn't bring himself to move.
'What kind of look...'
He could see the oppressed life so clearly in his eyes as he wiped away the blood with the back of his hand.
Although he seemed calm on the outside, his senses, which had been trained while living in the Demon King's Castle, were warning him not to mess with him now, so Ben could only stop in place and watch his back as he walked away.
***
The Emperor did not lie.
If you ask someone who thinks of himself as a tyrant and calls himself evil whether he has done something bad, what reason would there be to lie? Since he was a wicked person, he would answer with confidence.
Even if that wasn't the case, there were many reasons for the Emperor not to lie.
'The Emperor... is obsessed with being an Emperor.'
Stigma was like that. He didn't acknowledge his status and was obsessed with proving it.
He was not trained as a successor from a young age to become an Emperor, but he appeared to be too perfect for a man who ascended to the throne by rebelling.
'I don't know why I didn't know about it all this time.'
Everything that made up Eduardo Desert was blatantly proclaiming that he was the Emperor. So he would most likely not lie. Because those in the highest positions have no reason to lie.
'Even if you commit a crime and say you did it, no one will say anything. Because that's power.'
Of course, this was an extreme example, and if the Emperor made a mistake, he would be scolded by the nobles, but Deon Hardt was confident nonetheless.
All lies, unless they are white lies, are generally ugly.
The Emperor was a human being who would never become ugly even if he died.
Before discussing the nobility of the 'Emperor' who should not be ugly, this was his innate nature.
Tap.
Footprints were left on the white snow. Deon Hardt, standing in front of the ornate main gate, looked at the gatekeepers who were on high alert and glaring at him, then immediately lifted the hood of his robe.
"... Hardt... Honorary Marquis?"
"I want to meet His Majesty."
"Oh, please wait a moment..."
"Right now."
"...!"
The unidentified person who walked to and from the Imperial palace in a carriage without saying a word was the missing Honorary Marquis Hardt. This alone was making them lose their breath, but he wanted to see His Majesty right now.
Normally, they would have gotten out of the way without hesitation, but the atmosphere surrounding him was unusual. Moreover, every time he exhaled, his breath contained more heat than the others...
"... Are you feeling well?"
He seemed as though he had a fever.
"I don't think that's within your authority."
The answer that came back was cold.
The gatekeeper, who was startled, looked at his colleague, nodded, and stepped aside. At the same time, his colleague also turned his body to get out of the way.
"Excuse me. Please come in."
In the first place, they had no authority to stop Deon Hardt.
The Honorary Marquis Deon Hardt was someone whom the Emperor had given permission to visit in any form at any time, and now that he had returned from disappearance, the first person he must meet is none other than the Emperor.
***
"Where is His Majesty?"
"Who... Honorary Marquis H-Hardt?"
"Answer."
"He is in the office. Please wait a moment and I will contact him... Marquis!"
Office. He's in the office.
Without even having to remember, Deon moved forward without hesitation.
In fact, he was more familiar with the office than the throne room. For him and the Emperor, who had secrets that should not be revealed, an office with fewer people and good soundproofing was much more comfortable.
How long did he walk? It wasn't long before he came face to face with the knights guarding the office door.
The knights, who had been looking at the intruder who dared to enter the Emperor's presence with harsh eyes, soon realized who he was and opened their eyes wide.
With the return of the missing hero, the vigilance became even more relaxed.
"... Marquis? Are you really the Marquis? I'm sure you went missing..."
"I need to see His Majesty."
The knights fell silent at the sudden remark.
The atmosphere calmed down. The boundary that seemed to have been broken rose sharply again.
One of the silent knights cautiously opened his mouth.
"No matter how much you are the Marquis, it would be difficult for you to just enter like this. At least ask His Majesty for permission..."
"That's it."
The door to the office, which seemed sturdy, opened suddenly.
"His Majesty has given permission."
Nemeseus, who was looking at Deon Hardt with disapproval, turned his body that was blocking the door to the side and nodded for him to come in.
Deon walked past him and entered the office without any sign of regret or hesitation. With Nemeseus' voice commanding the knights from behind to retreat, he looked straight ahead and his eyes met with familiar golden eyes.
"... You don't look well."
The Emperor, who immediately noticed Deon Hardt's physical condition, put down the pen he was holding and began to remove the documents on his desk.
"Why did you bring your body to here when you could contact me through a communication stone?"
He didn't say anything like whether he was okay, whether he needed to rest, or that he would call the palace doctor.
There must be a reason why he came to him with such unreasonable force, and more than anything, it was because he couldn't say anything else to that look in his eyes.
As he waited leisurely, organizing the documents so that the other person could speak comfortably, Deon Hardt, who had been unable to speak easily by opening and closing his mouth several times, finally spoke with difficulty.
"... Did you know?"
Pause.
For an instant, the hands that were organizing the documents stopped.
There was no need to ask what it was about. The Emperor let go of the documents he was holding and raised his head to meet the red eyes that were looking at him as if waiting for an answer.
"Yes."
"... Why."
The simple answer without any lies or excuses actually made his voice tremble.
The Emperor expressed his confirmation. That alone would have been enough, but Deon couldn't help the emotions that were boiling over him, and he spoke out with doubts and resentment.
"Why did you do that?"
"..."
"If only you had let me know, if only you had at least given me a hint, if only you had at least refused my request!"
What if the Emperor had chosen something else instead of silence during the Eight Year War?
"Everyone would have survived..."
Parents would not have suffered a tragic death at the hands of their own child, and his older brother would not have sacrificed himself for his younger sibling. And Deon Hardt wouldn't have wanted to kill himself.
The last words were almost a whisper, but the Emperor, who understood them with his excellent hearing, slowly opened his mouth.
"Are you blaming me now?"
"..."
"The direction of resentment is wrong. In the world of nobles, not knowing is a sin. The resulting damage is also your responsibility."
Was there a rule that says you should pretend to know something even if you don't know it?
"You are still a child."
The Emperor clearly gave him a chance.
Should we call it the price of silence? The Emperor offered a better option: a solid title, jewels, and a fiefdom. The person who defied all of this and wished for the extinction of his family was none other than Deon Hardt himself.
"... But."
"..."
"It was all your choice, and I just listened to your request, but if you ask why, hm."
"..."
"I guess it was based on my desire to acquire a talented person like you."
Actually, there was something else he originally wanted to say.
Do not blame others for your sins. Do not take other people's sins upon yourself. Judge objectively and think about who you should really blame and hate.
Nevertheless, putting all that aside, if he were to say that as the reason why he called himself a villain, then it would be fine.
'It's just a whim.'
No, in fact, it was ambiguous to even consider him to be a villain. The Emperor could never be considered a good person.
Deon Hardt's expression hardened.
He was silent for a moment, as if suppressing his rising murderous intent, then looked at the Emperor with cool red eyes and spoke as if chewing out each word.
"I am not the kind of talent Your Majesty thinks I am."
The Emperor did not bother to answer.
***
After Deon Hardt returned, Nemeseus, who had been watching the situation the whole time, quietly opened his mouth.
"Why did you just send him away?"
He didn't know much about the circumstances, but he did know for sure that Deon Hardt now harbored an indescribable hatred for the Emperor. That alone was a reason not to just let Deon Hardt go, and especially the moment he saw those eyes turning around, his senses sent a strong warning.
"He will definitely come back later."
"... I know, too."
There was no way the Emperor did not know this.
He was the Emperor who always met Deon Hardt whenever he traveled to and from the demon realm, looks directly into his eyes, and determines whether he is neutral or not. He spoke to Deon Hardt here today and noticed that he had completely turned his back on him.
Nevertheless, if you were to ask why he sent him away, it could be said to be a whim.
"If you know, then why!"
"Well..."
But that's the reason and he couldn't say it out loud.
Nemeseus would definitely be angry. He wouldn't understand. So, if he had to pick a specific reason... Okay.
"Doesn't he resemble me?"
Killing his family in a moment of misunderstanding.
"Of course, the difference is that I had a bad relationship with my family from the beginning."
"..."
As the Emperor had intended, Nemeseus could no longer say anything.