Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 119

Chapter 119: Before Her Tenth Birthday

[Emperor Cassius’s POV]

Irethene.

A kingdom so quiet, I often forgot it existed.

They minded their own business. No border disputes. No trade meddling. No political games. They were the kind of kingdom that lived like a whisper—heard by no one, harming no one.

And because of that, I never saw them as a threat.

Never planned to conquer them.

Never even considered their name in war meetings.

Which is why, when the doors to the war chamber slammed open and a blood-soaked messenger stumbled inside, panting, pale, and barely coherent—I did not expect the words that followed.

"Y-Your Majesty..." he gasped. "The Kingdom of Irethene... they crossed the southern border—"

I straightened.

Regis looked up sharply. Theon—who had just poured tea—froze mid-pour.

"—they crossed during the night and ambushed our southern garrison. Dozens of knights, Your Majesty. Slaughtered."

Theon’s jaw dropped. "What?"

"Irethene?" Regis snapped. "That can’t be right. Irethene doesn’t even move. They barely even breathe!"

The messenger’s throat bobbed. He wiped blood from his cheek. "It was sudden, Your Majesty. Quick. Brutal. Cowardly. They left no survivors."

The silence that followed wasn’t silent at all.

It pulsed.

Heavy. Thick. Like the air itself held its breath.

I stared at the flames licking the edges of the war map spread before me.

And then I smiled.

Cold. Slow.

The kind of smile I wore when mercy was no longer on the table.

"So... the silent kingdom found its voice."

Regis looked uneasy. "Your Majesty, if Irethene has truly attacked, we must respond—swiftly. Strategically."

"Strategically?" I said, rising from my seat with deadly calm. "There is nothing strategic about stabbing my men in the dark."

I turned to the messenger. "And you’re sure? Not raiders? Not mercenaries?"

He nodded. "Their sigils were clear, sire. The silver flame of Irethene burned on every cloak."

Theon’s face twisted. "But why? We’ve never crossed them. Never sent a single spy across their border."

"Exactly," I murmured. "We ignored them. And they mistook it for weakness."

I turned to Regis.

He stood a little straighter.

"Send a battalion to the southern border. No—send three. I want knights, archers, and skyborne riders. Let them see the full shadow of the empire stretching toward their quiet kingdom."

Regis blinked. "Three battalions?"

"And a fourth to follow."

My voice dropped to something colder. Something that made even the flames on the war map seem to shrink back. "Because I want their silence buried with them. And I will personally rip the spine out of that bastard emperor."

Theon hesitated. "...You’ll go to war yourself?"

"Yes," I said, my eyes never leaving the flickering map. "A night strike on our southern border isn’t just cowardice—it’s a declaration. And declarations," I said, flexing my jaw, "deserve responses."

"Violent responses," Regis muttered, nodding.

Theon, ever the voice of nerves and logic, spoke next. "But... what about the princess?"

I looked at him then. Slowly. Calmly. The kind of calm that makes men uneasy. Then I turned to the map... to the messenger... And finally, back to Theon.

"My daughter," I said, "should learn something very important."

Regis didn’t blink. Theon stood still.

"If someone dares to strike you from the shadows," I continued, "you don’t hesitate. You don’t forgive. You conquer."

I took a step forward, letting the full weight of my words sink in. "This isn’t just war strategy. It’s parenting. And as a responsible father—" I gave them both a cold smile.

"—I can’t teach my daughter the wrong lesson. Wouldn’t you agree?"

Regis exhaled slowly and turned on his heel. "I’ll prepare the legions."

I nodded and continued, "Send word to Ravick immediately."

As he moved, I remained still. My eyes traced the firelight dancing across the kingdom’s borders, licking up the edges of parchment like prophecy.

Irethene sat in the corner of the map. Quiet. Untouched.

Not anymore.

I stepped closer and placed my hand over its crest. Pressed down.

"Ready the war chamber," I said quietly.

"And fetch the High Seer. I want to know who whispered into Irethene’s ear... and what lies they fed them in exchange for blood."

Theon paused only to bow low. "At once, Your Majesty."

Because this wasn’t just a border raid. It wasn’t a misstep. It wasn’t a mistake.

It was a message.

And now—

It was my turn to answer.

With fire.

With fury.

And every ounce of steel this empire had forged in silence.

Leaving Lavinia behind... That was the first cost.And not an easy one.

The halls of the palace still echoed with her laughter in my mind—sharp, untamed, full of mischief. That child had never once let protocol bind her. She rode a divine beast through marble corridors.

And yet—When I turned to leave...

When my warhorse stood at the gates, the horns announcing my departure, and she—my firebrand—came hurtling toward me in that damn oversized cloak, tears clinging to her lashes and defiance in her stance—

I nearly stayed.

I felt it.That dangerous softness.The tug.

But a king—an emperor—does not stay when his border burns.

So I knelt to her.

I cupped her tiny face in my hands, calloused fingers pressing against soft, sun-kissed skin, and I looked her in the eyes.

Not as a father.Not as a king.

But as both.

And as I explained what had happened at the border, my lazy, sharp-tongued daughter—gods, bless her stubborn, cunning little brain—just gave one slow, thoughtful nod.

As if she understood the weight of the moment. As if she’d been born with battlefields stitched into her bones.

Then she stepped forward. Wrapped those small arms around me in a hug far too tight for someone who pretended to hate affection.

And whispered, "Then come back before my tenth birthday. I want to celebrate it with you... together."

That was it.

Not "Don’t go," not "I’m scared." Just a simple, unshaken request. A command hidden in sweetness.

There was something in her eyes. Something steady. Steeled. Like she knew—knew down to her bones—that her father wouldn’t fall in battle. Like the thought of me dying wasn’t even possible.

She stared at me like the war was a mild inconvenience.

Like her real worry wasn’t if I’d survive, but how she’d endure three whole years without her Papa by her side.

But in that moment, I was just a father. A father making promises he refused to break and promising himself, "I have to return soon, and I will give that empire as a gift."

Her empire.

But silent kingdoms... they are the hardest to conquer. Not because they are strong, but because no one knows where their strength truly lies. They don’t boast. They don’t bark. They just watch.

To conquer Irethene, I couldn’t just charge in with sword and banner. No. I had to learn it. Study its bones. Peel back the layers of myth and silence. Understand its emperor. It’s people. Its fears. It’s gods.

***

[Southern Border]

It howled.

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