The Scum Emperor's Redemption System - Chapter 110

Chapter 110: Coward
Neron and Lanisya sat tangled in writhing vines, silenced by Elira’s chloro magic. Their muffled protests sounded like distant squeaks, and the sheer absurdity of the situation wasn’t lost on Argider. The room felt heavy with awkward tension. Traitors, secret half-siblings, sons she didn’t even know she had, and a palace falling apart—it was like fate had decided to hurl every plot twist possible at her all at once.

“Maybe I should just resign,” Argider muttered under her breath, leaning against the balcony railing.

Meanwhile, below, the palace guards were in full reprimand mode. Inspection teams roamed the corridors, barking orders at servants and scrutinizing everything from potted plants to decorative armor.

“Hey! You!” one guard shouted, pointing at a bewildered maid carrying a tray of tea. “Where were you during the commotion?”

The maid blinked. “I-I was in the kitchens, sir, making the tea… for you.”

The guard hesitated. “…Oh. Well, uh, carry on then. But don’t let it happen again!”

Another pair of guards interrogated a gardener trimming hedges near the palace entrance.

“Suspicious activity?” the guard demanded.

The gardener raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been trimming this same bush for an hour.”

“Well, don’t let your guard down! Intruders could be hiding anywhere.”

“…In a hedge?”

Argider, from her vantage point above, groaned. “These are the people protecting my palace?”

Elira smirked, leaning against the doorway. “Your palace is a joke.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Argider deadpanned.

The palace itself was a sprawling maze, segmented into wings for the empress and consorts. While some parts gleamed with opulence, others—the less favored consort quarters—were barely better than storage rooms. The imbalance mirrored Argider’s rule, messy and chaotic.

Her gaze turned to Elira, now freed from her earlier bindings. “So, you’re not worried I’ll lock you up?” Argider asked.

Elira crossed her arms. “Should I be?”

Argider squinted. “Half-sister of Esmeralda, huh? Explain.”

Elira’s face hardened. “I am.”

“And… what did my father-in-law do?” Argider pressed, the memory of Elira’s internal world still fresh in her mind.

Elira’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “You’re so innocent, aren’t you? Clueless about what the Sceptre Council’s been doing right under your nose.”

“What do you mean?”

Elira stepped closer, finger jabbing Argider’s chest. “Your Empire—your rule—is built on tyranny.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Argider defended.

“Exactly. You didn’t do anything,” Elira snapped. “That’s the problem. While you’ve been busy floundering and—well, you can’t do that anymore, can you?” Her gaze flicked downward with a knowing smirk.

Argider flushed. “L-Look, just get to the point…”

“Your stupid nobles,” Elira began, each word cutting like a blade, “have been running human trafficking rings, selling people like livestock, auctioning women, enslaving men, and working children to death in mines. All in the Downward District, where no one cares enough to look. And you, the almighty emperor, have done nothing.”

“Say that again?” Argider’s voice wavered, disbelief etched across her face.

“You heard me. While you play pretend emperor, your nobles are destroying lives. And guess who gets blamed for it? The people of the Downward District. The ‘uneducated swine,’ they call us.”

Human trafficking. Auctions. Child slavery. It felt like someone had poured ice water down Argider’s spine. She staggered back, clutching the balcony rail. “That can’t be…”

“It is,” Elira said coldly. “Even if you didn’t start it, you let it happen. You’re weak. A coward. You can’t even control the people supposedly under your rule.”

Elira looked utterly exasperated as she launched into another rant about the empire’s rotten core. Her words tumbled out like an avalanche—angry, bitter, and laced with frustration. It was hard to blame her, really. Who wouldn’t be stressed after witnessing such a toxic cesspool of power plays and corruption? She paced back and forth, her hands clenched into fists, before finally reaching out to steady herself on the desk. With a sigh, she gave up on standing and perched on its edge, her face buried in her hands.

And yet, she couldn’t help but wonder why she was even bothering. Argider? The so-called emperor? What could she possibly expect from someone like them? Elira’s gaze drifted toward them, sizing them up with a mix of pity and disdain.

Argider wasn’t exactly a figure of awe or inspiration. Weak—yes, that was the word. A puppet ruler, barely holding the strings of an empire spiraling out of control. A ruler once shackled by her own servitude, and now literally cursed. Pregnant, too, no less. It was almost laughable. No, it was laughable.

“This is the person ruling us?” Elira muttered under her breath, not even realizing she’d spoken aloud. She tilted her head, studying Argider like they were some kind of bizarre experiment. What could anyone possibly achieve in this state? A cursed, pregnant emperor waddling around the palace while their nobles ran amok and trampled over the people they were supposed to protect.

The truth was painfully obvious: Argider was a mess. And as far as Elira was concerned, they were no better than a figurehead—pathetic and powerless. It was almost cruel how fate had thrown the weight of the empire onto someone so ill-equipped to handle it. Almost.

Suddenly, Alvator materialized in the corner of Argider’s vision, leaning casually against the wall like he hadn’t just missed half the chaos. His voice was a low whisper, as if he was gossiping over tea.

“You know,” he began, “my advice? Keep her around. She’s an apothecary, has connections, knows the ins and outs of the underground. Plus, it’s a golden opportunity to bond with Kian. Poor kid’s probably exhausted from seeing his mother tied up in this mess—literally and figuratively.”

Argider bit her lip. He wasn’t wrong. Everything he said felt like salt in a wound. She already knew she was weak. Her mentor, Uzak, was gone. She was no longer the confident ruler she thought she could be. And worst of all, she’d discovered the harsh truth: she wasn’t just a bad emperor—she was the villain of this story. Or rather, her from another timeline was.

It was too much. The weight of the empire, the curse, her fractured relationships, the incessant scheming of the nobles—it all bore down on her like an avalanche. Tears welled up, and despite her best efforts, they spilled over.

Elira froze, clearly startled. Watching Argider cry was the last thing she expected, and the sight made her visibly uncomfortable.

“Ah, ignore me,” Argider stammered, hastily wiping her cheeks. “I shouldn’t cry. I’m a man.”

Elira’s brow furrowed. “You still think you’re a man?”

“Ah, right…” Argider glanced down at herself. Her current form was undeniable—she was a woman, and a pregnant one at that. But deep inside, she still felt like a man. It was a strange, suffocating discomfort she couldn’t explain.

Elira sighed, crossing her arms. “Look, I’m not exactly fond of seeing you like this.”

“I know.” Argider’s voice cracked. “I don’t deserve to cry. Probably because I’m a pregnant woman now. They say pregnancy makes you emotional, right?” she added awkwardly, as if trying to excuse her tears. She sniffled, then straightened up. “But listen—I have an offer. I’ll help you, and you’ll help me.”

Elira raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I know I’m weak…” Argider admitted, her voice low but determined. “So help me understand everything. In the end, I’ll let you and your friends stay. But you have to tell me everything—people, magic, all of it.”

Elira raised a brow, her arms still crossed tightly. “I’m not telling you anything about my organization. And I’ll need your help with my investigations. I want Gander dead.”

Argider stiffened at the name but nodded. The demand hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. There was no escaping it. This wasn’t just an alliance—it was a gamble. A dangerous one.

“Deal,” Argider finally said, forcing strength into her words.

At her word, the vines constricting Neron and Lanisya unwound, slithering to the ground with a rustle. Both stumbled forward, gasping for air and brushing off the remnants of greenery.

“You two,” Argider said, narrowing her eyes at the duo, “don’t make things worse.”

Neron shot her a glare, his voice hoarse. “Are you sure about working with her?”

Elira glanced at him, then back at Argider. Her voice was steady. “Yeah. She’s different. She’s always been notorious for defying the council.”

Argider let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of her head. “Haha… Notorious sounds… right, I guess. Good at making enemies, apparently.”

The tension began to ease, but Argider’s eyes fell to Kian, who was clutching Elira’s hand tightly. His small, worried face tugged at something inside her—something new and fiercely protective.

She knelt down, meeting his gaze, her tone soft. “I’ll protect your mama, okay?”

Kian’s wide eyes flickered with uncertainty before he nodded, clutching Elira’s hand tighter.

For now, the fragile peace held, but Argider couldn’t help but wonder how long it would last.

“Thank you…” Elira muttered, her voice softer than Argider had ever heard it.

Suddenly, a familiar chime echoed in Argider’s head, startling her.

— [QUEST COMPLETED: Establish a connection with Kian]

— [Personality Trait: Oppenness ▪︎ +10 EXP!]

— [Personality Trait: Extraversion ▪︎ +10 EXP!]

— [Personality Trait: Agreeableness ▪︎ +10 EXP!]

— [Personality Trait: Neuroticism ▪︎ -5 EXP!]

…

— [Connection Points +20]

— [Loyal Points +10]

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[Processing…]

Ding!

— [New Familial Status: Kian Quenvale]

— [Connection ▪︎ 20]

— [Trust ▪︎ 10]

— [Understanding ▪︎ 0]

— [Emotion▪︎ 100]