The Scum Emperor's Redemption System - Chapter 149

Chapter 149: Worthy of Trust
Esmeralda stood in the sprawling palace garden, a soft breeze carrying the faint scent of blooming roses and lavender. The vibrant greenery and brightly colored flowers seemed to mock her inner turmoil. For once, her usually confident demeanor faltered, her shoulders slumped and her brow furrowed. She traced her fingers along the edge of a marble fountain, staring at her reflection in the water.

“Who am I now?” she murmured, the words barely audible even to herself.

She had spent her entire life in the shadow of her father’s expectations. Every decision, every move she made was to please him, or at least to avoid his wrath. But now, with her allegiance shifting toward Argider, she felt untethered, adrift in an unfamiliar sea of emotions. It was freeing and terrifying all at once.

A rustle of footsteps behind her broke her reverie.

“Wow, brooding in a garden? You’re practically a tragic heroine,” Argider teased, flopping onto a stone bench nearby with all the grace of a particularly smug cat. “Let me guess, you’re contemplating the meaning of life? Or maybe you’re rehearsing your acceptance speech for ‘Most Dramatic Woman of the Year?'”

Esmeralda shot her a glare but lacked the energy for a proper retort. Instead, she sighed and looked back at the fountain. “What do you want?”

“To see how my favorite wife is doing,” Argider replied with a smirk, lacing her fingers behind her head. “And before you say anything, yes, I know you’ll deny being my favorite. But between you and me, the tsundere and the knight don’t brood half as beautifully.”

Esmeralda rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the faint twitch of a smile. “You’re insufferable.”

“I know,” Argider said, leaning forward with a cheeky grin. “But you love me for it.”

There was a beat of silence before Esmeralda spoke again, her voice softer, more vulnerable. “I’ve spent my whole life doing what my father wanted, being what he wanted me to be. Now that I’ve stepped away from that… I don’t even know who I am anymore. What if there’s nothing left? What if I’m just… empty?”

Argider’s expression softened, and she stood, walking over to lean casually against the fountain beside her. “Esme, you’re not empty. You’re just… under construction. Think of it like one of those old castles people restore—you’re knocking down the ugly, outdated parts to make room for something beautiful and new.”

Esmeralda gave her a skeptical look. “Did you just compare me to a crumbling castle?”

Argider shrugged. “Hey, I’m just saying. You’re lucky to have me as your emperor. I’m practically the patron saint of recovering narcissists. Trust me, you’re in good hands.”

Esmeralda let out a startled laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re welcome.”

Just as the moment settled into something resembling comfort, a sharp voice interrupted.

“Am I interrupting something?” Faeralys stood at the edge of the garden path, arms crossed and a scowl firmly in place. Her fiery hair seemed to catch the sunlight, glowing like an actual flame. Beside her, Fialova looked equally unimpressed, though her expression was more curious than annoyed.

“Just a private conversation,” Argider said breezily, waving a hand as if to shoo them away. “You know, the kind where you don’t barge in uninvited.”

“Private? With her?” Faeralys raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “What could she possibly have to say that’s worth listening to?”

Esmeralda bristled. “I’ll have you know I was having a very profound moment of self-reflection.”

“Profound? You?” Faeralys snorted. “That’s rich.”

Fialova stepped forward, her tone more measured. “What’s going on here? You’re both acting strange.”

Argider grinned, clearly enjoying the tension. “Don’t worry, we’re just bonding. You two jealous or something?”

“As if,” Faeralys snapped, her cheeks turning pink. “I couldn’t care less about your little heart-to-heart. I just don’t trust her.”

Esmeralda smirked. “Oh, don’t worry, I don’t trust you either.”

Fialova pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can we not do this right now?”

The bickering was interrupted when Esmeralda straightened, her eyes glinting with determination. “You know what? I’m done with all this petty nonsense. If you don’t trust me, fine. But I’m going to prove my loyalty. I’m going to master my magic and use it for Argider’s cause.”

The declaration was met with stunned silence before Faeralys recovered enough to scoff. “You? Master magic? Please, you can barely control a single spell without it turning into a disaster.”

“I seem to recall your fire magic singeing half the library last week,” Esmeralda shot back. “But sure, let’s pretend you’re the expert.”

Faeralys’s face turned a deep shade of red, and Fialova quickly stepped in to diffuse the situation. “If you’re serious about this, we should test your abilities. See where you stand.”

“Oh, I’m serious,” Esmeralda said, her tone challenging. “Let’s go. Right now.”

Argider clapped her hands, clearly delighted by the turn of events. “This is going to be good.”

They moved to the training ground, where Faeralys immediately suggested a mock duel. “If you’re going to prove yourself, you should fight Argider. Show us what you’re capable of.”

Argider’s eyes widened. “Whoa, hang on. Why do I have to be the target?”

“Because you’re the emperor,” Faeralys said matter-of-factly. “And because I want to see her knock you down a peg.”

Esmeralda smirked. “I’m game if you are.”

Argider groaned, throwing her hands up. “Fine. But if I get turned into a vine-covered piñata, I’m blaming all of you.”

The duel started with Argider standing in the center of the training ground, looking far too relaxed for someone about to face an angry woman wielding unpredictable plant magic. Esmeralda took a deep breath, summoning her Chlora magic. Vines erupted from the ground, twisting and writhing like living creatures.

“See? Totally under control,” she said smugly.

One of the vines promptly slapped her in the face.

Argider burst out laughing, dodging another rogue vine. “Yep, totally got this.”

“Shut up!” Esmeralda growled, trying to redirect the magic. The vines obeyed—sort of—lunging toward Argider like a pack of overenthusiastic puppies.

Argider yelped, darting out of the way. “Okay, maybe tone it down a little! I’d like to survive this!”

Faeralys and Fialova watched from the sidelines, each with their own commentary.

“She’s hopeless,” Faeralys muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice.

“She’s improving,” Fialova countered. “Sort of.”

In the end, the chaos devolved into laughter and teasing, with Argider somehow managing to escape relatively unscathed. Esmeralda, though still rough around the edges, had taken her first step toward mastering her magic—and earning a begrudging measure of respect from her rivals.

The training ground buzzed with tension as the mock battle began. Argider and Esmeralda stood on one side, the latter rolling her shoulders and cracking her knuckles in exaggerated preparation. Across from them, Faeralys hovered a few feet off the ground, her fiery hair practically sparking with energy, while Fialova unsheathed her blade, the air around her crackling with faint arcs of lightning.

“Let’s make this quick,” Faeralys called out, her voice dripping with confidence. “I have better things to do than babysit a pair of amateurs.”

Esmeralda’s lips curled into a smirk. “Better things? Like brushing your feathers, flaming chicken?”

Faeralys’s eyes narrowed, and her hands lit up with flames. “Say that again, and I’ll roast you like a marshmallow.”

“Focus, Esme!” Argider said, waving her arms to grab attention. “We’re a team! Remember? Team ‘Don’t Die Horribly!'”

Before anyone could respond, Fialova launched herself forward, a streak of electrified speed. Esmeralda barely had time to react, thrusting her hand out and summoning vines from the ground. They shot up in tangled spirals, catching Fialova mid-dash and slowing her advance.

“Oh, look,” Faeralys jeered, watching her partner struggle against the vines. “Esmeralda’s actually aiming for once!”

“Don’t encourage her!” Fialova shouted, slicing through the vines with her blade, sparks flying as her lightning magic tore them apart.

“Are you even trying to hit them?” Faeralys barked, diving down to hurl a burst of fire toward Argider.

“Of course!” Argider dodged the fireball with a clumsy roll. “It’s called strategy, Faera! You wouldn’t understand.”

“Strategy?” Faeralys repeated, incredulous. “You’re running around like a headless chicken!”

“Better than a flaming one!” Esmeralda quipped, summoning another wave of vines.

Faeralys growled, launching a barrage of fireballs in retaliation. They collided with Esmeralda’s vines, creating an explosion of embers and green sparks. The chaos was so intense that Argider yelped, diving behind a nearby boulder for cover.

The battle raged on, with Esmeralda and Argider barely holding their ground. Fialova’s lightning strikes were relentless, and Faeralys’s fire magic seemed to incinerate every vine Esmeralda conjured. But something shifted when Argider, in her usual dramatic flair, tripped over her own feet and landed squarely in the path of a flaming projectile.

“Argider!” Esmeralda shouted, her instincts taking over. She raised her hands, and the air seemed to hum with energy. From the ground, a shimmering dome of vines and blossoms erupted, shielding Argider from the blast.

Everyone froze.

“What just happened?” Faeralys demanded, hovering mid-air.

“Did you mean to do that?” Fialova asked, her voice tinged with surprise.

Esmeralda stared at her hands, her expression equal parts awe and confusion. “I… I think so?”

Argider peeked out from behind the protective dome, her grin wide and mischievous. “Well, look at you, all heroic and shiny. Are you trying to steal my thunder, Esme?”

Esmeralda rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small, proud smile creeping onto her face.

The battle wound down after that, each participant panting and covered in sweat. Faeralys and Fialova exchanged grudging nods of acknowledgment, while Argider sprawled out on the grass, arms spread wide.

“I vote we call it a draw,” Argider said, her voice muffled as she stared up at the sky.

“A draw?” Faeralys scoffed. “I clearly had the upper hand.”

“In what world?” Fialova shot back, crossing her arms.

“Enough!” Esmeralda interrupted, surprising even herself with the authority in her tone. “We’re all still standing, aren’t we? Let’s just… call it even and move on.”

Faeralys grumbled something under her breath, but she didn’t argue. Fialova nodded in quiet agreement, her posture relaxing.

Argider, ever the opportunist, sat up with a grin. “Since we’ve all miraculously survived, I declare this moment worthy of celebration. Royal feast, anyone?”

Esmeralda groaned, but there was no mistaking the flicker of amusement in her eyes. Despite the chaos, the bickering, and the flying insults, there was a strange, tentative camaraderie forming between them all. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but it was a start.