The Scum Emperor's Redemption System

Chapter 50 Unexpected

Argider couldn't believe it. Then again, perhaps she could. Palace life was nothing if not a circus of betrayals, intrigue, and poorly concealed ambitions.

Everyone played their own game, and though she had long since resigned herself to its absurdities, this particular revelation still managed to sting—just a little.

Then came the thought, reckless and oddly liberating: if the game was rigged, why not rewrite the rules entirely?

Sword training would continue as usual for days, of course. It always did. The clash of blades was as much a ritual as a necessity in courtly life, and Argider had no intention of giving it up. But today, her focus wandered.

Each parry came a fraction too late, each strike lacked its usual precision. Across from her, Uzak noticed.

For all his bluster and simplicity, even he could see that something was off.

"Watch out!" he called, grinning as he lunged.

His sword flashed forward, quick as a whip, and before Argider could react, hers went clattering across the stone courtyard. The sound echoed like a gong, cutting through the crisp morning air.

She blinked, momentarily stunned, then straightened herself with a sharp cough, as if she could will her dignity back into place.

"Is your broken arm still bothering you?" Uzak asked, sheathing his sword. There was a trace of genuine concern in his voice, though it was buried beneath his usual bravado.

"No," Argider replied curtly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Not really."

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze narrowing as he studied her. Uzak was no courtier; the subtleties of palace life often eluded him.

But even he could sense when the Emperor was acting... strangely. And today, Argider was practically radiating strangeness.

"Well," he ventured hesitantly, "is something wrong?"

"You could've told me," she said suddenly, her tone cool but layered with something deeper, something harder to define.

"Told you what?"

She had to do this—for the Redemption System, for her progress. But the relentless dominance of the Empress was taking its toll, leaving her body aching and her spirit bruised.

"Look," Uzak said, his voice softening slightly as he took a step closer. "My advice? Pay attention to the Empress. I thought you were finally taking your duties seriously. But if you're letting someone else take her away, doesn't that mean you're failing?"

Ah. That struck a nerve. He wasn't wrong. If she allowed this to spiral further, everything she'd worked for—every carefully laid plan—would crumble into nothing.

Worse still, her EXP would drain, leaving her progress in ruins. She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't.

"Fine," she muttered, shoulders stiffening. "What's your other advice?"

Uzak tilted his head, studying her with the detached air of a tactician examining a battlefield. "What's troubling you most, Your Imperial Majesty?"

Argider sighed, her voice dropping into a rare note of vulnerability. "First of all, she keeps treating me like a toy. Not that I... don't enjoy it, but my body's bruised. And second, she clearly doesn't respect me."

Uzak cupped his chin, thoughtful. "The Empress doesn't love anything. She sees the world as a collection of objects to be used for her own ends."

Argider frowned. "So what's your advice?"

"Make her love you."

She blinked. It was such a preposterous suggestion that for a moment, she thought he must be joking. "That doesn't even make sense. You just said she's incapable of love."

"She doesn't love people," Uzak clarified. "But she does love one thing."

Argider hesitated, her curiosity warring with her irritation. "And what's that?"

"Power."

The word lingered in the air like a challenge, sharp and undeniable. It was maddeningly simple, yet so painfully true. Argider's lips pressed into a thin line. The game hadn't just changed—it had grown more dangerous.

But then again, danger was the currency of imperial life, and she was nothing if not a gambler.