Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re) - Chapter 298

Chapter 298: War of Words (2)

Third Person’s POV

And Ethan, who was the center of their ridicule, remained perfectly still.

No flicker of anger crossed his face.

There was no tightening of the jaw or any clenching of the fist.

He simply stood there and holding the Black Dragon Saber lightly in his grasp, his expression was a mask of utter indifference as if Aram’s barbs could no more touch him than a paper sword could pierce steel.

Dark chains that were blacker than the deepest abyss and darker than a night without stars erupted from Ethan’s hands and slithered like sentient serpents and coiled tightly around his wrists with a low, menacing hum.

For a moment, he deliberately softened his stance and let a somber and slightly tense expression shadow his face as if trying to mask the storm and fear building within him.

It was all an act and a calculated ploy to ease the vigilance in the hearts of these arrogant fools.

“I am not answerable or accountable to you,” the demon knight finally said in his rumbling and rough voice that carried a razor’s edge beneath its calmness.

“So don’t waste your time throwing baseless accusations at me, young heir.

If you don’t believe me, fine. That’s your burden to bear, and you will suffer for it.”

Ethan smiled inwardly as, for the first time, he heard the demon knight speak, and unlike what he expected, this guy was not a lapdog at all.

He looked at Aram and noticed that his sneering mask was beginning to show cracks after the strong answer of the dark demon knight.

The so-called young lord still clung to his arrogance, but his fingers twitched subtly in a telling sign of unease as he mulled over the demon knight’s words.

Ethan barely held back a smirk and pretended to be tense and fearful as the dark knight’s deep, rumbling voice continued again,

“Even now,” the dark knight said in a grave and warning-filled voice,

“the expression on this brat’s face is a lie. He is far more cunning and dangerous than you realize.”

The weight of those words seemed to shatter the silence for a breath.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. The knight’s bluntness was unexpected…

In response, the corner of Ethan’s mouth curled upwards into a slow and dangerous smirk as he decided that there was no need to pretend.

The time for games was over.

Dropping all facade, Ethan straightened to his full height, and his posture started radiating lethal confidence.

He turned toward Declan, the sneering red-haired demon who had once handed him the Black Dragon Saber like a ‘gift’.

His sharp and mocking voice rang out while carrying a venom that finally suited his age rather than the composed older mask he had worn before.

“Listen to me, you red-headed bastard,” Ethan said as each word he uttered held a dagger of contempt.

“Today, I will cut off that filthy head of yours with this very saber you so kindly gifted me.”

He lifted the Black Dragon Saber with a casual fluid motion and let its dark blade catch the sunset light ominously.

“And as for you…” he added as he pointed the curved edge of the blade towards the demon Aram.

The demon prince, who had been reeling from his knight’s rebuke and warning, flinched slightly as the first real crack in his smug, superior facade appeared.

“I’ll slice off your worthless head too and will play football with it,” Ethan finished off in a merciless tone.

The demon Aram’s face twisted, and emotions of rage, humiliation, and the dawning realization that this situation was slipping from his control flashed across his face.

The Black Dragon Saber pointed directly at Aram’s chest like a judge delivering a death sentence, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Aram’s red eyes widened, and a cocktail of fury and disbelief boiled in their depths.

His face, which was once polished with smug arrogance, now resembled a broken mask as it started crumbling at the edges.

Ethan saw it and pressed the attack as he went into full rage-bait mode with his smirk widening into a grin filled with savage glee.

“Don’t widen your eyes like a dead fish, you moron,” Ethan said, his voice cutting through the thickening tension like a whip.

“Since you dared to lay your filthy gaze on my women and vomited filth from that rotten mouth of yours, it is only natural that I fulfill my woman’s request.”

The words hit like hammer strikes.

He no longer cared to hide the truth of his bond with Virelle — why would he?

These enemies had already been sentenced in his heart.

As he finished speaking, Ethan’s body radiated a tangible pressure, thick and heavy, like the calm before a violent storm.

His gleeful expression that was so brazenly mocking was the final spark that ignited Aram’s simmering rage into a full-blown inferno.

The young demon’s furious red eyes pulsed with bloodthirsty intensity and the veins around them stood out like dark roots clawing through his skin.

His temples throbbed visibly and beat in sync with the furious rhythm of his heart while his hands clenched so tightly that the knuckles turned bone-white.

And yet, just when it seemed like he might explode in violent rage, Aram sucked in a deep and shuddering breath.

His shoulders rose and fell as he forcibly calmed himself, and his lips curled into a thin, mocking smile.

“You say,” he sneered in a low voice dripping with venom,

” ‘Your woman,’ huh…?”

His smile widened and became something almost grotesque as the meaning of Ethan’s earlier words slithered into his mind like a poisonous viper.

His crimson gaze sharpened and gleamed with triumphant malice as he shouted with a grin,

“Does this mean you have slept with the fiancée of the prince of the Empire of the Abyssal Dominion?”

The grin stretching across his face now screamed a singular, sickening triumph,

I have you. You are finished.