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Splash, splash…!
There was blood all over the palace floor.
The knights stepped over the corpses of the court ladies, not caring if they got blood on themselves, and carried the emperor.
“How dare you… Kheke!”
The emperor had been tied up with a rope, and his robe was partly undone.
It was impossible to tell how many cigarettes the emperor had smoked ever since Henry had provided him with them. The emperor's mental state had deteriorated more rapidly than anyone else's because, unlike the nobles, the emperor had an unlimited supply of the Pink Swamp. Therefore, he could keep smoking them all the time without worrying that he would run out.
Crowell cast the emperor a look of disgust. Today was the last day he would have to look after this sorry excuse of an emperor.
“Ugh, my head…!”
The emperor complained of a headache as he was being dragged out of the palace. He was starting to feel the effects of withdrawal from the Pink Swamp. However, all the knights disregarded his complaints because they no longer had to serve the fallen emperor.
“Cigarettes…” the emperor murmured.
“Be quiet, Silver Jackson.”
“Bring me the cigarettes...”
“I told you to be quiet.”
“I’m telling you to bring...
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