Emperor's harem: Transmigrated with SSS mana talent
Chapter 68: [It was the devil]

Chapter 68: [It was the devil]

But now—with General Morien fallen from grace, with the Duchess exposed, with all masks torn off—he was naked beneath the sun.

"I... I-I don’t..." he stammered, eyes darting like a cornered rat.

"It didn’t have poison. It was... just wine."

Silence.

No one moved. Not even the wind dared speak.

The Duchess, standing only feet away, trembled.

Her mouth twisted into a snarl of fury.

All her planning, all her patience, all her years of silent loathing—and now undone.

Not by the Duke.

Not even by fate.

But by him.

"You imbecile!" she shrieked, voice raw, strangled by rage.

"You bastard child! You shattered everything!"

She lunged, eyes wild.

Guards stepped in instantly, grabbing her arms as she thrashed and screamed—her words curses, venom, regret.

"I could’ve done it! Today or tomorrow, I would have! But you—you filthy little insect—you ruined everything!"

Aerik shrank back, shoulders hunched, his mouth opening and closing without sound.

Like a drowning man trying to speak through water.

The Duke stood still, his gaze a cold scalpel cutting deeper than any blade.

He didn’t raise his voice—he didn’t need to. Every word dropped like a hammer.

"You didn’t do this alone," he said, each syllable sharp.

"You don’t have the brain for it."

Aerik’s face drained of color.

"F-Father, I... it was me. I-I just wanted to expose the traitors."

"Liar."

The word landed like a slap.

Aerik flinched.

"It was the devil," the Duke continued, eyes narrowing.

"He whispered in your ear, didn’t he? Promised you a crown. Told you who to trust. What to say. Even gave you the bottle."

Aerik shook his head, lips trembling.

Then finally—like the last hinge snapping—he broke.

"Y-Yeah..." he whispered.

The silence that followed was not empty.

It was watching.

Selene felt it first—that crawling pressure beneath the skin, like a thousand invisible eyes had opened in the shadows.

She turned sharply, instinct prickling, but found only Kael standing beside her, hands behind his back, calm as a lake before a storm.

She stared at him.

He knew. Somehow, Kael had seen this whole twisted web—seen through the lies, the betrayals, even the army meant to crush them.

But how? And more importantly...

Her gaze drifted to the Duke, who now stood tall despite his wounds, magic flickering faintly around his form.

A Rank 4 magician, betrayed but unbowed.

General Morien, treacherous and ruthless, a Rank 3 hardened by wars.

The army of Rank 2 mages stirred like a tide held at bay only by command.

The battle has only just begun, she thought grimly.

Selene looked back at Kael, her voice low. "What will you do now?"

Kael’s eyes were distant, unreadable.

But there was a slight smile at the corner of his lips, like someone who’d just turned the last page of a book... and found a secret ending only he knew.

"Let them move first," he said softly.

"I only need ....one opening."

Suddenly, the house fell utterly silent.

No birds. No whispers. No breath.

The Duke exhaled deeply, the weariness in his eyes replaced by a glint of something colder—resolve sharpened by betrayal.

He straightened his spine and said, almost to himself,

"I’ll deal with that devil soon enough..." His voice was calm.

Too calm. It carried like a chill across the stone.

Then his gaze shifted—locked onto General Morien, the one who had once been his sword and shield.

"But first..." the Duke said, his voice hardening as mana began to gather once more in his hand,

"I’ll wipe the filth from my own house."

A storm was about to break.

The Duke raised his hand, summoning the weave of a spell.

Power coiled around him like smoke.

Then, with deliberate precision, he unleashed it—an arcing bolt of burning blue that tore through the air toward General Morien.

But Morien didn’t flinch.

He did something unexpected.

With a twisted grin, he reached out, seized the Duchess by her arm, and flung her in front of him like a broken shield.

The spell struck her square in the chest.

She crumpled to the ground with a strangled gasp, smoke rising from her silk gown.

She lay there stunned, eyes wide, the pain only just beginning to register.

She looked up at him—at the man who had whispered false promises in her ear.

"I thought... you loved me," she said, voice cracking like thin ice.

Morien scoffed, stepping over her without a glance.

"Haa... dumb bitch.

.....Your role is over."

She blinked, her breath catching—not from the magic, but from the collapse of everything she’d built on lies.

The Duke stood tall, his presence like a mountain—unchanging, immovable.

His eyes, cold as iron, didn’t flinch.

No surprise. No anger.

Just the bitter confirmation of what he’d long suspected.

He raised his hand slowly, summoning his sword with a whisper of steel.

Its blade gleamed under the ashen sky.

"A traitor’s blade will always turn," he said, voice low and firm, aimed like a curse toward Morien.

"I trusted you once. That was my sin. And I will not sin twice."

Morien sneered, drawing his own weapon.

"You speak like a dying man, old wolf."

Then it began.

Mana flared.

Steel clashed.

Sparks exploded in the cold air as the two veterans met head-on.

The ground trembled under their clash.

Servants screamed. Guards scattered. Some turned and fled. Others hesitated, unsure who the enemy was anymore.

Kael grabbed Selene’s arm and pulled her into cover, shielding her with his body as a shockwave tore through the corridor.

She looked at him, breathless.

He didn’t speak—just nodded once, eyes steady.

Kael stared at the crumpled figure of duchess, lying like discarded laundry between two titans clashing for power—neither the general who promised her the world, nor the father she tried to kill even blinked in her direction.

He sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and muttered under his breath,

"Yeah... dumb bitch picked the wrong king in a kingdom of wolves."

Selene shot him a sharp look.

Kael just shrugged.

"What? I learned my family values."

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