Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 121

Chapter 121: Ashes of the False King

[Emperor Cassius Pov]

"...You... how did you..."

Kaelith Ilstar choked on his own blood, the words scraping out of his throat like shards of broken glass. He lay sprawled across the marble steps of his throne—my throne now—blood trailing behind him like a second cloak.

He clutched his stomach, where my blade had found him moments ago. Shaking. Drenched in red. Still breathing—but not for long.

Pathetic.

I reclined lazily on the high seat he once called a throne, one leg over the other, my sword resting across my lap, still dripping with his royal blood. The silver-flame banner of Irethene lay scorched beneath my boots, and the shattered remnants of his crown rolled somewhere in the rubble.

I smirked down at him, my voice cold and precise.

"Did you think we didn’t strike you until now because we were weak?" I asked. "Did that little fantasy keep you warm at night while your priests whispered victory into your ears?"

Kaelith groaned, eyes dazed with disbelief and agony.

I leaned forward just slightly, letting my words strike like knives.

"No, boy. We waited because we wanted you to rot in comfort. To rise high enough that the fall would break every bone you own. That’s the price of arrogance, Kaelith. You never ruled. You only played emperor."

Heavy boots echoed behind me.

Regis stepped into the light, splattered with blood but as composed as ever. He looked at the broken body on the floor.

"All nobles who supported him have been dealt with," he reported. "They screamed ’glory’ as they died."

I gave a soft nod, brushing dried blood off my knuckles. "As expected. And the priest?"

Regis’s mouth curled. "Tried to run. Crossed the border in robes soaked with wine and cowardice. But Ravick caught him before he reached the hills. He’s dragging him back now."

I chuckled, slow and sharp. "Good. That means the play is over."

Regis glanced toward the broken windows, where Irethene’s once-proud city now stood silent, ash-laced winds curling through its stone veins.

"So... it’s time to go home?" he asked softly.

I stood from the throne, blade in hand, and walked down the steps until I was staring directly at Kaelith. The bastard emperor coughed violently, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. He blinked up at me with dazed hatred, but even that was fading.

I tilted my head.

"What about him?" Regis asked.

I clicked my tongue and crouched, meeting Kaelith’s gaze as if considering a pet that had bitten the hand that fed it.

"Hmmm..." I mused. "Should I feed you to the wolves alive? Let them chew on your bones while you scream like the child you are?"

Kaelith whimpered.

I narrowed my eyes. "Or should I gift your severed head to your people? Let it rot in the city square while they rebuild their lives under my name?"

I stood again.

Swung my sword once—slow and easy—and let the point rest gently against his throat.

"You took my knights. You took my time. You tried to take my legacy," I said, my voice dipping into something darker.

I stepped closer, my shadow swallowing his trembling body. His mouth opened, but I wasn’t done.

"And more importantly... you forced me to spend three years away from my daughter."

My grip tightened on the hilt. "Three birthdays missed. Three winters without her laugh in my halls. You turned my empire into a battlefield... and my fatherhood into a calendar of guilt."

The point pressed harder into his skin, a crimson bead blooming beneath it.

"So now," I hissed, "I’ll take your kingdom... and gift it to her. Wrapped in your blood and ash."

He gasped—wide-eyed, ragged—but before he could beg, cry, or plead to whatever gods abandoned him—

I drove the blade clean through his throat.

Quick.

Precise.

Final.

He crumpled without ceremony, a dethroned corpse in a pool of his own arrogance.

I stood there for a beat, watching the blood snake down the marble steps, before I turned to Regis with cold precision.

"I want the priest," I said, already wiping my blade on Kaelith’s ruined cloak. "Tell Ravick to bring him alive. I don’t want him dead before I get my hands on him."

Regis winced. "...You should’ve said that earlier."

I froze mid-wipe, one brow lifting slowly.

"Why?" I asked, my voice deceptively calm.

Regis sighed. "Because knowing Ravick, he’s probably already killed him by now. Or—worse—he’s halfway done, thinking it’s what you wanted."

I let out a breath through my nose, sharp and humorless.

"Of course he is."

With one last pull, I sheathed my blade and turned fully to Regis, my voice low and dangerous.

"Then tell Ravick to stop. Tell him to leave the priest just enough alive to scream. He can break him all he wants—but the final breath?" I smiled, slow and cold. "That’s mine to steal."

Regis nodded grimly. "I’ll send the order."

"Good," I said, walking back toward the throne, now rightfully mine. I glanced over my shoulder at Kaelith’s still-warm body.

"Because I want that holy bastard dragged here in chains and shame. Let him crawl into this hall on broken limbs. Let his gods watch him die."

[Later, Irethene Empire, Throne Room]

It’s been months since I last received a letter from Lavinia.

Not one.

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