As Rin stepped out of the restaurant and walked into the shaded palace corridors, his expression was unreadable. But deep within, thoughts churned like a storm.
> "I'm sorry, Uncle… but I want chaos."
Aurex had made it clear: don't choose sides. Don't throw a spark onto dry leaves.
But Rin had already chosen.
He needed war. He needed death. He needed Tyrant Points.
And the only thing stopping him from igniting the blaze was his uncle's lingering presence in the capital.
So Rin waited.
He played the quiet loyalist, bided his time, and sharpened his ideas in silence. Only when he received confirmation that Aurex had returned to his southern dominion did he finally begin.
---
For the next month, Rin attached himself to a man he couldn't stand.
Prince Ryvaris.
The third son of the Emperor. The "forgotten" one. A man of flair, arrogance, and reckless pleasure.
But also… approachable.
Rin and Ryvaris spent the weeks attending sparring matches and underground fight tournaments. They entered the arena together, showing off their lineage. Their synergy on the battlefield caught attention. They even began to talk, eat, and mock each other like old friends.
Rin hated every second of it.
But Ryvaris was useful. He had an easy ego, a craving for novelty, and most importantly: a connection Rin could exploit.
One evening, after a particularly brutal fight club match, they sat watching the bloodied victor stagger across the sand.
"These fights are fun," Ryvaris grinned. "But they start to feel the same after a while."
Rin nodded. "Yes. That's the problem."
Ryvaris looked at him. "Problem?"
"They're missing something," Rin said, swirling his cup. "A spirit. A purpose. These fighters… they fight only to survive until tomorrow. So after a while, it all feels meaningless."
Ryvaris blinked. "Huh. That's deep. So what? You have a solution?"
Rin smirked. "I've been thinking about it ever since you told me about your uncle. The one from your mother's side."
"The warden?"
"Yes. The one who oversees all those prisons in the East."
Ryvaris shrugged. "What about him?"
"He's in charge of a lot of executions, isn't he?"
"Yeah. A ton. Why?"
Rin leaned in. "Do you know how many people get executed daily?"
"No idea."
"I looked it up. Roughly fifty."
Ryvaris blinked. "Only fifty? With tens of billions in the East?"
"Yes. Which means about 1,500 a month."
"…Okay? What are you planning?"
"I have a proposal," Rin said, his voice like silk. "What if we request,just once a month,for those 1,500 condemned criminals… to fight in a death tournament for our entertainment?"
Ryvaris's eyes began to glow.
"We promise the last survivor freedom, gold, a new life," Rin continued smoothly. "Let them fight with desperation. Real purpose. It'll make the matches thrilling."
Ryvaris was already nodding, his grin growing feral. "That's genius. Since they're already going to die, they might as well entertain us!"
"And after twelve months," Rin added, "we host the Grand Final. Twelve champions. One victor. And that one earns noble status. A new identity. A new life."
Ryvaris nearly jumped from his seat. "I can already see it! The cheers! The blood! The bets!"
He paused. "But… something like that would need the Emperor's approval. And killing thousands in public"
"That's why," Rin cut in, "we do it in private. Secret tournaments. Tickets sold only to noble families. We make it exclusive,luxurious. Blood and glory, only for those who can afford it."
Ryvaris stood, eyes shining like a child with a new toy. "This is it! This is exactly what the capital needs!"
Rin smiled, bowing his head slightly. "I knew you'd see the vision."
"I'll talk to my uncle immediately," Ryvaris said. "We'll start next month. This is going to be… legendary."