Hate Me, Witch!-Chapter 162: He Shall Return on Black Flames

Between the Thrones.

“By the pact between Crimson Blood and the Pure White Sword, I hereby name you—crowned with the Double-Headed Eagle—as the new monarch of the Fresta Empire—”

“...Do you have the resolve?”

Within the chamber between the thrones, an elderly man with a pallid, sickly face nonetheless radiated an indescribable aura of authority.

He looked at his daughter, the Second Imperial Princess, with eyes clouded by illness but gleaming faintly with unhidden pride.

Whether in her innate talent as a Beastmaster, or her abilities to rule as sovereign, the current Emperor had always been mediocre—at best.

Not a tyrant, but far from a capable ruler.

Under his reign, the royal family's authority had gradually weakened, dragging the Empire into increasing instability and decline.

But fortunately… he had a daughter.

Ever since that fateful banquet with the Borgia Family—ever since the Holy Sword was once again bound in a pact that transcended a thousand years—

Everyone already knew who the next ruler of the Fresta Empire would be.

In the next moment—

Isadella’s solemn vow echoed through the throne hall.

“In the name of Frestberg and the ancient covenant—”

“And for the peace of the Western Continent and the people of this Empire—”

“I pledge to reign upon this throne.”

It was a vow spanning a millennium.

A thousand years ago, she was the Knight King burdened with all hopes and expectations—but ultimately, she betrayed that promise and dream—

She had turned the Empire into a nation of the dead, shrouded beneath the Crimson Moon within the Imaginary Belt.

She was supposed to carry that guilt and be buried along with the Imaginary Belt under the weight of historical correction.

But fate was merciful.

Someone had corrected her mistake—

And granted her the chance to begin again.

The pure silver Double-Headed Eagle Crown shimmered under the glow of the magitech lighting.

“With this… the coronation is complete.”

The coronation ceremony was not like the founding ceremony of a millennium ago.

That had been a sacred rite witnessed by all citizens of the Empire. But this, due to the former emperor’s frail health, was kept low-key.

The transfer of royal power was performed within the chamber between thrones, witnessed only by a handful: the clan elders of the royal family, envoys from the Eight Oathbound Families, and a few descendants of the original Knights of the Round Table…

Once it concluded, the former Emperor was quickly escorted back to his bedchamber for treatment.

“Mmm, smells like beef.”

Stepping out of the throne room, Diris—who had accompanied Isadella throughout the ceremony—couldn’t help but speak up.

“It was arranged by His Excellency Tarik, in consideration that Her Majesty and the attending envoys and nobles might not have eaten before the ceremony,” explained a servant who quickly approached.

“Several renowned chefs participating in culinary forums here in the capital were invited to prepare this banquet, with beef as the central theme. We’re confident Her Majesty will be pleased.”

Tarik von Frestberg.

By generation, he was several lines ahead of Isadella—a distant elder.

He was also the only other surviving Legendary-tier within the royal family aside from Isadella herself.

And once, he had been her teacher, back when she was just the Second Imperial Princess—before she truly came into her own.

He had guarded the royal bloodline and the Empire during her formative years.

Upon hearing this, Isadella paused briefly, then nodded to the servant. “I appreciate the effort. Please lead the way.”

The distance between the throne room and the side palace was only a few hundred meters—easily crossed.

When Isadella opened the doors to the side palace, what greeted her were rows of exquisitely arranged beef dishes—

And clearly divided across a central aisle—representatives of the Oathbound Families, the great nobles… and the bloodlines of the Knights of the Round Table.

“Your Majesty.”

The moment she entered, everyone present stood to greet her.

Regardless of what intentions hid in their hearts—whether loyalty to the crown or ambition to replace the empress they faced—

They still offered the proper respect, at least on the surface.

Both for her identity, and for her strength as a Holy Sword Contractor.

Boom—

From the distant outer district, the sound of unrest rumbled faintly.

It was subtle, but among these supernaturals, no one missed it.

Instantly, murmurs of alarm spread through the side palace.

Buzz—

The vibration of a magitech crystal echoed.

Diris’s expression shifted as she checked the incoming telepathic message. Stepping close to Isadella, she spoke softly:

“The cultists who infiltrated the Empire have made their move.”

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“Our people are working to suppress them, but it’ll take time.”

“Also… there are anomalies we didn’t account for.”

“To bypass the Empire’s surveillance net entirely, there’s only one explanation—there’s either a Legendary among them, or a pseudo-Legendary enhanced by a Corrupted Object.”

It couldn’t be helped.

Neither the Military Department, the Order Bureau, nor even the newly formed Swordbearers had combatants beyond the Sixth Ring.

A Legendary-tier powerhouse, for any faction, was like the pillar that held a nation’s fate. They would never be dispatched lightly.

But for cultists—this wasn’t a problem.

With the aid of sacrificial rituals and faith-based corruption, it wasn’t hard to temporarily push a Sixth-Ring transcendent into a pseudo-Legendary state.

Of course, those artificially inflated powerhouses burned out their potential in the process—they were essentially one-use weapons.

But for those who worship Evil Gods, concerns like “future” or “potential” were irrelevant.

Yet within the side palace, Isadella barely reacted to Diris’s report.

Instead, she simply placed her pale hand upon the hilt of the Holy Sword at her side.

In the next instant—

Zheng—!

A clear, ringing sword cry resounded as the Holy Sword burst forth with blazing crimson-gold light.

A golden radiance pierced the vaulted ceiling of the side palace, suffused with overwhelming mystery.

And within the domain the golden swordlight touched—

A shadowy beast, forged from blackened corruption, screeched in agony as it flapped its wings in panic—

Only to dissolve, piece by piece, into scattered fragments, carried away in a stream of luminous particles.

<p271" data-end="360">The pressure of the throne burst forth, overwhelming everyone around like a sudden storm.

<p362" data-end="421">In that moment of unleashed might, all had seen it clearly. <p423" data-end="462">It was a Legendary-tier Beast King. <p464" data-end="625">It had been lurking in the shadows of night, waiting for the perfect moment—when Isadella and Diris were most at ease—to strike and end it all in one swift move. <p627" data-end="802">Yet before the fully awakened Holy Sword, the Legendary Beast King didn’t even last a second. It was annihilated on the spot, reduced to its most basic magical components. <p804" data-end="916">“A Summon Beast of the Night... As far as I know, there's only one of its kind in all of the Western Continent.” <p918" data-end="1056">“That would be the Night-Calling Beast King of the Lost Domain, with ties to the Twilight Ancient God and the Twilight Order.” <p1058" data-end="1214">“But—its ambush only succeeded because it had been hiding in your shadow. Out of respect for you, I hadn’t extended my mental energy to probe that space.” <p1216" data-end="1266">Isadella’s voice echoed through the silent palace. <p1268" data-end="1363">Then, she turned her gaze toward the old man with graying hair standing inside the side palace. <p1365" data-end="1402">“Though I suspected as much already…” <p1404" data-end="1431">“Teacher Tarik... why?”

<p1438" data-end="1516">“Seems their assumptions were off,” the old man said, his voice aged but calm. <p1518" data-end="1667">“Your Majesty—returning to this point in history from the Imaginary Belt did not weaken you, nor did it destabilize your throne-tier foundation—” <p1669" data-end="1796">“And even the Holy Sword, which should have been pressured by the forces of historical correction, remains as radiant as ever.” <p1798" data-end="1984">The white-haired Tarik slowly spoke, looking down at Isadella—his most accomplished disciple. The very one upon whom the royal family had pinned their hopes for the Empire’s revival. <p1986" data-end="2013">He shook his head slightly. <p2015" data-end="2030">“As for why...” <p2032" data-end="2182">“If Your Majesty hadn’t made a contract with the Holy Sword, I might’ve still had a chance to claim it, to extend my life through its divine mystery.” <p2184" data-end="2409">“If the royal family hadn’t severed ties with the Borgia Family, then with Guderian’s Legendary-tier plant-type Summoned Beast, the Rose Emperor, I might’ve prolonged my decaying body with its Elixir of Life.” <p2411" data-end="2475">“But Your Majesty, you personally wiped away all my last hopes.” <p2477" data-end="2541">“In this world, no one wants to die. Everyone desires survival.” <p2543" data-end="2609">“Even the lowest ant clings to life—how could I be any different?” <p2611" data-end="2677">“I was never a genius like you or Lord Xia Ya… never exceptional…” <p2679" data-end="2794">“The Throne-Tier Boundary—for me, it's an uncrossable chasm, no matter how many centuries I’ve poured into it.” <p2796" data-end="2966">“My life has only two or three years left... Other than accepting the cult’s deal, seizing unclaimed divinity, and taking the Path to Godhood, I had no other choice.” <p2968" data-end="2981">“Is that so—” <p2983" data-end="3093">Hearing the confession of the man who had once protected the royal bloodline, Isadella slowly closed her eyes. <p3095" data-end="3183">When they opened again, the new Empress of the Empire had shed her fleeting sadness. <p3185" data-end="3340">There were still fragments of divinity left over from when Xia Ya slew the Crimson Moon…

If he returns, I could’ve asked him to grant you some of it— <p3342" data-end="3378">But Isadella did not say that aloud.

<p3380" data-end="3421">Because she knew—it was already too late. <p3423" data-end="3490">From the moment Tarik accepted the deal, there was no turning back. <p3492" data-end="3616">And now, as the new monarch of the Empire, she had no room for weakness. She had to cut the rot away swiftly and decisively. <p3618" data-end="3668">Once more, Isadella gripped the hilt of her sword. <p3670" data-end="3793">The radiant Holy Sword flared to life again, its golden brilliance erupting toward the sky like a torrent of light. <p3795" data-end="3803">And yet— <p3805" data-end="3826">At that exact moment— <p3828" data-end="3889">Tarik suddenly picked up a wine glass from the banquet table. <p3891" data-end="3906">And smashed it. <p3908" data-end="4099">The Legendary-tier Night-Calling Beast had only been part of his arrangement with the cult—a test to see if Isadella’s power remained intact after returning from the shattered Imaginary Belt. <p4101" data-end="4219">By the original plan, even if the beast was defeated, it should have escaped intact. But now, it had been obliterated. <p4221" data-end="4302">Still, that was not the real ace the group known as Golden Dawn had prepared. <p4304" data-end="4374">Their true trump card was—the Divine Descent of the Lord of Ashes. <p4376" data-end="4511">Shattering the wine glass was the trigger. It broke the seal tied to a relic—the Skull of a Divine Being—and initiated the descent. <p4513" data-end="4520">BOOM— <p4522" data-end="4610">A power no less potent than the Holy Sword’s, even enough to rival it, exploded skyward. <p4612" data-end="4673">With it came a sea of black flames, swallowing all light. <p4675" data-end="4779">The infernal heat roared to consume the entire side palace—perhaps even the Imperial Capital itself. <p4781" data-end="4810">And within that sea of flame— <p4812" data-end="4868">The black fire twisted and coiled, spiraling upward— <p4870" data-end="4928">Until it slowly coalesced into a colossal, shadowy figure. <p4930" data-end="5065">Even without fully materializing, the phantom emitted such crushing pressure that all in attendance instinctively furrowed their brows. <p5067" data-end="5080">Demi-God— <p5082" data-end="5218">No, it was already beyond the scope of a normal demi-god or throne-tier existence—this was something infinitely close to a true god. <p5220" data-end="5231">This was... <p5233" data-end="5280">The Divine Realm spoken of only in legends. <p5282" data-end="5438">As the divine projection loomed behind him, blotting out even the Holy Sword’s radiance, Tarik couldn’t help but tremble—his old heart surging with emotion. <p5440" data-end="5557">Once this deal is complete, I too shall ascend the long steps to godhood with the fragment of divinity I’ve gained. <p5559" data-end="5737">Then, I’ll cast off this mortal coil, break free from human limitations, and become like the Lord of Ashes—a supreme being, eternal and unchanging as long as faith remains. <p5739" data-end="5806">As the waves of faith surged, the projection solidified completely. <p5808" data-end="5850">Tarik looked around and noticed something: <p5852" data-end="5943">No one in the side palace—no royal, no envoy of the Oathbound Families, no observing noble— <p5945" data-end="5990">Not even Diris, standing behind Isadella— <p5992" data-end="6044">Could hide their shock at the fully manifested form. <p6046" data-end="6117">Was the Divine Descent of the Lord of Ashes really this terrifying? <p6119" data-end="6224">But of course—for nearly everyone present, encountering a true god or even a demi-god was unheard of. <p6226" data-end="6364">Most people's only impression of throne-tier beings came from that brief glimpse of the Argent Witch Sylvia during the Borgia banquet. <p6366" data-end="6445">As his heart pounded with excitement, Tarik bowed low before the manifestation. <p6447" data-end="6476">“Oh great Lord of Ashes—” <p6478" data-end="6561">He stretched his withered arms over the beef dishes that filled the banquet tables. <p6563" data-end="6671">“As decreed by your divine relic, I have completed all preparations for the ritual. I welcome your descent!” <p6673" data-end="6702">But in the very next instant— <p6704" data-end="6716">FWOOOSH— <p6718" data-end="6756">A pillar of black fire surged skyward. <p6758" data-end="6841">The searing heat spread like wildfire through Tarik’s limbs, engulfing every nerve. <p6843" data-end="6890">His eyes widened in horror as he turned around— <p6892" data-end="6965">Only to see, within the roaring sea of black flames, a solidified figure. <p6967" data-end="6979">A young man. <p6981" data-end="7008">Black hair. Black eyes. <p7010" data-end="7046">Sharp features, strikingly handsome. <p7048" data-end="7084">Everyone recognized that silhouette. <p7086" data-end="7249">Whether from the legendary Borgia banquet that shook the entire Western Continent, or from Isadella’s formal announcement before the council of her chosen consort— <p7251" data-end="7294">Every citizen of the Empire knew this name: <p7296" data-end="7312">Xia Ya Egut. <p7314" data-end="7419">As Tarik turned in stunned disbelief, the black flame figure glanced at the lavish spread of beef dishes— <p7421" data-end="7452">And regretfully shook his head. <p7454" data-end="7470">“Well-prepared.” <p7472" data-end="7478">“But…” <p7480" data-end="7499">“I don’t eat beef.”