The Scum Emperor's Redemption System

Chapter 30 Beautiful Female Knight

Wait, hold up—who was this stunningly beautiful female knight? How had Argider missed her? Then again, she'd been a little preoccupied with, you know, miserable royal training, but wow. Gyat damn.

The woman glanced down at Argider, and oh boy, was she tall—easily towering over her, maybe even over Esmeralda! And before she could process that, Argider felt herself swept off her feet, a strong arm looping around her waist as the knight effortlessly scooped her up, carrying her like some fairytale princess.

Argider's cheeks flushed, and she looked up at her mysterious, very tall rescuer. With a firm but surprisingly gentle tone, the knight said, "Allow me to return the favor."

And then, they were off. Carried at a near-superhuman speed through the battlefield, Argider felt the ground practically disappear beneath them. The knight moved with such speed and strength, it was like being whisked away by the wind itself—graceful, quick, and wow.

"She's... really handsome," Argider muttered, half in awe, half in a daze.

Around them, soldiers stopped in their tracks, watching as the knight charged ahead. Her strikes against the beasts were swift and precise, each blow infused with a level of power that left the enemy staggering, even though she seemed to rely more on raw strength than any overt magic.

She moved like a force of nature, and Argider could only hang on, marveling at this knight who clearly needed no enchantments to get the job done.

The bearded man infront was clearly angry. He marched forward, and Argider yelped, hanging on tighter to the woman. "W-Wait, he's coming!"

"Don't worry, your Imperial Majesty," she reassured as she went head on to the man.

Uzak and Denzelle supported her from behind, killing the remaining beasts. Then afterwards, the three of them went againt the man.

Uh oh. Trouble with a capital T. The bearded man ahead did not look pleased. His eyes blazed, his footsteps thundered, and Argider yelped, clinging tighter to her knightly savior.

"W-Wait, he's coming!" she stammered, fully prepared to watch this hulking menace flatten the both of them.

The knight didn't so much as blink, merely giving Argider a calm smile. "Don't worry, Your Imperial Majesty," she said, her tone so composed it was practically a lullaby.

Then she spun around—still holding Argider—and marched straight toward the fuming mountain of muscle.

What the fuck? Wait! Argider thought. This was no time for serene confidence! She could practically feel the man's rage rolling toward them like a rogue wave. It was a level of fury that could singe eyebrows at ten paces.

Just as Argider was about to shriek something very un-regal, Uzak and Denzelle charged forward from behind, dispatching the last of the snarling beasts with brutal efficiency, clearing the way to the real showdown. Now it was the three of them against one, granted, very large, man.

The knight shifted her grip, readying Argider like a small, nervous potato in her arms. She leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, "Hang tight, Your Majesty. We're about to make him wish he'd stayed in bed this morning."

Argider blinked, gripping the knight's armor as if her life depended on it—which, come to think of it, it probably did. And with her unlikely trio of defenders now flanking her, Argider felt an unfamiliar surge of courage—well, at least enough to not faint immediately.

— [You're Losing Consciousness!]

As Argider's vision faded to black, she toppled like a sack of royal potatoes, the ground making an uncomfortably solid impression against her back. Soldiers scrambled around her in a flurry of alarm, voices rising in panicked yelps as their emperor succumbed, quite ungracefully, to exhaustion.

All that action had clearly taken its toll, and while she hadn't lifted a weapon herself, even observing the whole ordeal had drained her—spiritually, emotionally, and apparently, physically. And, really, wasn't an unconscious emperor's nap well-earned?

So, naturally, she found herself drifting into another one of those wildly dramatic dreams, the ones filled with foreboding shadows, haunting visions of bloodlines lost, and maternal nightmares she'd sooner battle a hundred brutes than admit to.

In the swirling depths of her imagination, Argider floundered, haunted by flickers of fear she barely even admitted to herself.

Then, something strange and almost laughably gentle cut through the storm—a soothing caress, soft and tender, brushing away the darkness as if it were a pesky piece of lint. The comfort of the touch was almost otherworldly.

"Your Imperial Majesty, are you alright?" The voice was low and calm, threading through the dream. When Argider's eyes fluttered open, the last thing she expected was to find herself under a modest tent canopy, staring up at the very real, very close face of none other than Fialova.

Argider jolted, her face turning a bright crimson. This woman really has no concept of personal space, does she? she thought with a stab of indignation. She was supposed to be an emperor, after all—a proper emperor, who had wives, no less! Not that it was a romantic thing, she reminded herself hastily. It was entirely ceremonial, entirely respectable, and utterly lacking in tender, face-touching proximity.

"Y-Yes, I'm fine," she stammered, trying to sit up with as much dignity as one can after fainting. "What... what are you doing here?"

Fialova blinked at her, thoroughly unimpressed by the flustered reply. "You were whimpering in your sleep," she answered matter-of-factly.

"Just my usual nightmare..." the emperor admitted, feeling somewhat embarrassment for revealing such a tender side of her.

"If I might ask, how did you... do that? You know, give me magic?" Fialova asked, her tone calm but her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Argider cleared her throat, trying to conjure some imperial dignity. "Ah, well, it's this new magical attribute I've acquired. Apparently, it requires... uh, some kind of emotional connection."

Fialova raised an eyebrow, considering this. "Emotional connection? But we've never really had one, have we?"

Argider opened her mouth, then froze as the memory hit her like a lightning bolt—quite literally. She had felt something when she'd transferred the power. An electric jolt, a tingle in her skin... Her face flushed furiously as it dawned on her.

"Oh gods," she muttered, horrified. The "connection" had happened when she'd accidentally touched Fialova's... bosom. The memory sizzled embarrassingly through her brain, every mortifying detail bright and clear.

"Your Majesty?" Fialova prompted, her brow creasing. "Are you quite alright?"

"Yes, yes, I just—" Argider spluttered, her face red as her robes. "Just... realizing the power of a momentary... uh, lapse in judgment!"

Fialova tilted her head, clearly unbothered by whatever drama was unfolding in Argider's mind.