Crownless Reincarnation: New World? Nah I'd win-Chapter 254: Puppets of Royal Family [2]

The king, Queen and the Crown prince.

They all knelt right in front of Akamir with their eyes staring at the ground.

Akamir sat on the head table with his eyes on them.

He had one hand under his chin while the other tapped slowly on the armrest.

’....hmmm, they look better now.’

He thought as he glanced to his side where Slayri looked at her family with pity.

He was well aware of their outcome no matter how hard they tried to change it.

"The king—."

Akamir stopped because he had forgotten the name of the king.

In the first place he never bothered to remember his name.

Akamir turned to look at the princess as he asked. "....What’s his name?"

"Dael, Lorein and Prince Torin."

Sylari replied to him though she was sure he wouldn’t bother to remember them.

Akamir turned to look at the king.

"Dael." He said. "Since when did your bloodline start this business of selling people?"

The king’s eyes widened, but he remained silent, his hands trembling slightly against the marble table.

"Answer me," Akamir said, voice low and measured. "I won’t ask twice."

Queen Lorein’s lips quivered. "It... it has always been tradition," she stammered. "Our ancestors... we... we trade for the prosperity of Aure—"

Akamir’s crimson eyes sharpened, slicing through her excuses like a blade.

"Tradition?" he repeated, almost amused. "You sell your people and call it tradition?"

The crown prince Torin’s jaw tightened, anger flickering across his features. "You... you have no right—"

Akamir raised a finger, and Torin froze mid-word, the invisible weight of telekinesis pressing against him.

"I said, answer," Akamir said, calm, deliberate. "Not argue."

The king swallowed hard. "It... it was for the kingdom’s wealth. So Aure could thrive. So our people—"

Akamir shook his head slowly. "So your people starve while your coffers fill. You call that thriving?"

Sylari’s gaze flicked between Akamir and her family. Fear mingled with something else—a quiet, bitter satisfaction.

"Princess," Akamir said softly,

"your family taught you to be cunning, but you’ve never been part of their cruelty. You see it, and yet you choose to defy them. Why?"

Sylari’s fingers tightened on the folds of her dress.

"Because... that’s all I’ve ever known," she admitted, voice small. "Because I don’t want to be part of their sick pleasure."

Akamir leaned back, tilting his head slightly. "And yet, here you are." he spoke. "When your daughter can change so why can’t you?"

The king and queen shifted uneasily under Akamir’s gaze.

They had been used to commanding fear, but now their fear was different—more personal, more intimate.

Akamir remained silent as he kept on staring at the family.

"How much is within the kingdom’s wealth?" He asked again.

"How much have you earned from selling people?"

The king swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming along his brow.

"It... it’s difficult to say precisely... millions... tens of millions, perhaps more," he admitted, voice wavering.

Akamir’s crimson eyes didn’t leave him. "Perhaps more?"

The queen Lorein trembled, trying to regain composure.

"We... we manage the resources of Aure carefully... it is for the good of the kingdom," she said, her tone defensive.

Akamir tilted his head, tapping the armrest slowly. "Careful? You call starving your people careful?"

Torin finally broke his silence, rage dripping from his words. "You... you come here thinking you can lecture us? You—"

"Man, I hate middle aged men whining like a child."

Akamir said before he raised his finger.

"Wait, wait! Hey—!"

An invisible force began twisting the prince’s both hands until—.

Crack!!!

Both his hands were broken.

Akamir let out a sigh as he closed the prince’s mouth before he could scream.

He then looked at the king who was staring at his son.

"Torin!" he cried out, finally getting out of his trance state.

Akamir didn’t flinch. His crimson gaze never left Dael.

"Control your emotions, King," he said coldly.

"You’ve profited off far worse suffering. Don’t pretend you suddenly discovered compassion because it’s your son."

Queen Lorein covered her mouth, tears streaming freely.

She wanted to speak but fear locked her throat.

The sound of Torin’s broken breathing filled the chamber.

He stared at Akamir with hate, but his body sagged against the weight pinning him down.

"Anyway, onto the next question." Akamir said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"The weapons... How many of them did you import?"

Dael froze at the question, his lips pressed tight.

His shoulders quivered as though the weight of the words themselves bore down heavier than stone.

Akamir’s crimson gaze narrowed.

"Don’t test me," he warned, his tone flat but edged.

Finally, the king spoke, his voice breaking.

"Hundreds... no, thousands. Enough to arm entire battalions." He trembled violently.

"They came through the Zagroth merchants, smuggled under grain shipments. We... we kept no official records."

Akamir leaned forward slightly, resting his chin against his hand.

"Thousands," he repeated, almost to himself. His finger drummed against the table. "You’re not a king. You’re just a greedy broker with a crown."

Lorein gasped softly, her body trembling. "It was... it was for Aure’s defense—"

Akamir let out a sigh. "Just die already."

With his words the Crown bloomed on his head illuminating the place with crimson light.

Sylari quickly turned around unable to watch the death of her family.

Akamir also placed a barrier around her to stop the voices.

He pointed at them. "Eat them."

Three mimickers crawled out of his shadow as they rushed towards them.

---

When it was all over three people knelt in front of Akamir.

The perfect copy of the previous royal family with a pool of blood under them.

Akamir kept on staring at them before he removed the barrier around Sylari.

The woman at last turned to look at her family that was her own now.

There was disparity in her eyes but she kept herself composed.

The mimickers knelt silently, their forms flawless imitations—same eyes, same trembling lips, same fearful posture.

But the stench of blood and the still-warm pools beneath them told the truth.

Her real family was gone.

"From this moment," he said, tapping the armrest lightly,

"these three will play the roles of king, queen, and prince. They will nod when I tell them to nod, speak when I tell them to speak, and bleed only if I decide it’s useful."

His gaze slid toward Sylari. "And you, princess... you’ll sit beside them. The world will see a family intact."

Sylari looked at him then nodded her head slightly.

Akamir nodded back. "In the next month, the family will slowly die due to various reasons."

He looked at the mimickers. "At last only you will be left and be crowned as the new queen."

Sylari didn’t say anything as she had already accepted her fate.

Akamir looked at her one last time. "Am I clear?"

Sylari’s nod was barely a breath.

Her face was a pale mask; the motion of acceptance looked practiced, almost automatic.

"Good," he said lightly. "You’ll learn quickly. People like consistency. Act like nothing changed and no one will dig deeper."

He stood, the crimson glow from the crown dimming as he straightened.

Akamir turned to walk away—."

"I need assurance." Sylari spoke making him stop in his place. "...I need something that will prove that you won’t kill me."

Akamir turned to look at her. "And why would I do that?"

"If not." She swallowed hard. "Then kill me and replace me like the others."

"You surprise me," he said softly. "Most beg to be spared. You ask to be bound."

Sylari held his gaze, though her throat worked to swallow her fear.

"Because mercy is not in you," she whispered. "But bargains are."

Akamir tilted his head, considering her words.

"Very well," he said at last, crimson light flickering faintly around his crown. "I will give you what you ask: assurance. What do you want?"

"I want..." she hesitated, steadying her breath,

"your word. Not a promise, not a game. Something binding. If I play my role, if I do as you say... I live."

"Is this the best you can do?" Akamir asked genuinely. "Why bother with such stupid—."

"Just give me your word." She spoke softly. "That’s all I ask."

Akamir narrowed his eyes as he looked at her.

’Something is fishy.’

He could tell that she was scheming something but he just couldn’t prove it yet.

Akamir turned to glance at Nayomi to see if she could tell him anything.

She looked at him as Nayomi noticed the questionable look on his face.

"I think she has some skill perhaps a bloodline ability.... A way to keep herself from dying." She spoke thoughtfully. "Well, it shouldn’t harm you in any way."

Akamir let out a sigh as he nodded his head.

"Fine." He said. "You have my words."

"Say it." She insisted.

"You have my words." Akamir repeated. "That no matter what happens I will not kill you as long as you help me and don’t betray me."

’..Hm?’

As soon as he said that Akamir felt like a binding contract around him.

’So it was really a skill, huh?’

He thought staring at the woman who let out a sigh of relief.

She nodded and bowed. "I will be in your care."

Akamir nodded back as he began to walk once again. ’....Time to form a rebellion now.’