The Scum Emperor's Redemption System - Chapter 71
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Chapter 71: More Wives?!
The baby in the woman’s arms gurgled softly, oblivious to the drama unfolding. The entire chamber fell silent, save for the occasional creak of someone leaning forward to catch every detail of this bizarre twist.
“Wait, hold on,” Argider stammered, gesturing for the woman to stop crying for just a second. “Our baby? What are you… what do you mean ‘our’?”
The woman raised her tear-streaked face, her golden eyes shimmering with sorrow despite her disheveled state. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”
Somewhere, buried in the recesses of Argider’s memory, a faint connection sparked.
But before she could piece it together, murmurs swept through the chamber, the nobles exchanging glances and hushed whispers like a flock of scandal-hungry pigeons.
What the—?! What should I do? What should I do?! Argider’s thoughts spiraled as she darted frantic looks at the sea of stunned faces surrounding her. If only Alvator were here!
“You called?”
Argider nearly jumped out of her skin. Floating casually in the air was Alvator, in his smug little cat form, his tail flicking lazily like he had all the time in the world.
Ah, for fuck’s sake, she groaned internally. There it is again—him and his dramatic entrances.
‘Help me!’ she pleaded silently, glaring at him. ‘You said you would!’
“I did, didn’t I?” Alvator purred, his voice dripping with that infuriatingly smug tone. He lazily licked a paw, as if pondering the intricacies of the universe. Normally, he wasn’t supposed to interfere too much during trials, but let’s face it, Alvator wasn’t exactly known for playing by the rules. The system could shove it. Helping Argider was far more beneficial.
“You have to take her as a wife,” he said matter-of-factly.
‘Say what?!’ Argider’s internal scream could’ve shattered glass.
Not again. Not another wife. She could barely juggle the four she already had. Well, technically, she wasn’t really juggling them.
Faeralys had remained untouched so far, and Isolde was… somewhere. Doing something. She didn’t ask anymore. But still! Four was already pushing it. And she’d just had a wedding yesterday!
There’s got to be a way out of this, she thought, pinching the bridge of her nose as nobles stared at her expectantly, waiting for a decree.
“Why do I feel like you’re doing this on purpose?” she hissed at Alvator under her breath.
“Because I am,” he replied smugly, floating closer. “But hey, your trials, your choices. Isn’t this fun?”
Oh yes, Argider thought bitterly. So much fun.
Everyone was eagerly waiting for her response, even the other council members. They looked like they wanted to chop her off if they could, but couldn’t. She had to make a decision. Or maybe, she didn’t have to…
“I see…” She nodded. “Commander Uzak, please escort her to the servants of the palace and take care of her. I will discuss with her once this whole thing is over.”
He nodded and other knights came to take the woman away from the crowd. The others were somehow pleased by her considerate action, but it’d be a scandal nonetheless. I mean, everyone already knew who she was in the past. Why was this surprising at this point?
“Next,”
But then… somehow… just somehow… things took a turn for the absolutely unhinged.
“Your Imperial Majesty, please take care of our baby!”
Argider’s head snapped up as another woman stepped forward, clutching a child who, wait, was that a toddler? The kid was definitely walking, stumbling a little but managing just fine. Probably around three years old.
The new arrival was nothing like the disheveled woman from earlier. This one was a petite noblewoman with a dainty figure, her pink hair perfectly styled, and her lavender eyes sparkling like gemstones. She looked like she’d just strolled out of a fashion catalog, which only made the scene more surreal.
“W-Wha…?” Argider stammered, struggling to process this fresh madness.
The woman didn’t wait for clarification. She dropped to her knees and bowed so low her forehead hit the marble floor with an audible thunk.
“I’ve become a shame to my family!” she wailed, trembling dramatically.
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“H-Hey!” Argider shot up from her throne, flailing a hand in a futile attempt to halt this train wreck. “Take her too!” she barked to no one in particular, pointing at the adorable pink-haired woman like she was a package that needed relocating.
And just when she thought it couldn’t possibly escalate, it did.
More women poured into the chamber like water breaching a dam, each with a different sob story.
“It’s been so hard to raise our son! Please, support us!”
“Your Imperial Majesty, our daughter-”
“I didn’t want to come forward, but my family threw me out when they found out I was pregnant with our child!”
It wasn’t just nobles, either. Women from the Midward District, the Downward District, every walk of life imaginable, came flooding in. Each clutched a child, each with a tear-streaked face and a plea for help.
Argider felt her sanity slipping as the chamber devolved into chaos. This couldn’t be real. There was no way this was real. Was this the System’s doing? Was it some sort of grand cosmic prank? It all felt so meticulously absurd that it had to be orchestrated. Maybe she was still dreaming. Maybe this was a nightmare wrapped in another nightmare.
And what did she do? The only thing she could do. She waved them toward the servants one by one, muttering instructions to find them shelter, food, anything.
But deep down, she knew. This wasn’t a solution. It was a disaster. The trial was spiraling out of control, and so was her patience.
By the time the seemingly endless parade of pleas, demands, and downright absurdities had concluded, Argider dragged herself to the Privy Chamber of the Palace.
She had barely opened the door when a wave of silent scrutiny hit her like a battering ram.
There they were. All thirteen women, their eyes locked onto her, and—was that expectation? Even the children clung to their mothers.
Thirteen. Exactly thirteen women.
Thank every deity in existence it was only thirteen. She swallowed hard, the thought rattling in her brain like a loose coin in a jar. She knew she’d bedded more than this over her storied escapades, but somehow, the System or fate, or sheer dumb luck had decided to cap it here.
Still, the reality of the situation hit her like a falling chandelier. The palace could barely handle her existing wives; now there was a small army to deal with. And all of them, all of them, required legal protections.
Concubinage wasn’t an option. It held no benefit for anyone involved, and Argider was nothing if not determined to be fair. If she was going to take responsibility, she’d do it right.
These women deserved equality, not hierarchy.
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