The legend of the Pagan Empire’s Second Prince

Chapter 25: Greed's Choice

POV: Duke Myint Myat Kyaw Saw

A deep, unshakable fear gripped Duke Myint Myat Kyaw Saw as he sat upon his gilded throne, his fingers trembling against the golden armrests.

The Second Prince stood before him, radiating an aura unlike anything he had ever witnessed.

It wasn't merely the power of an imperial prince.

It wasn't even the power of a Grandmaster of war.

No…

It was the presence of something beyond human, beyond mortality itself.

The nobles who had once stood confidently behind him were now pale with terror, their gazes locked on the young prince whose mere presence seemed to bend reality around him.

The Duke had spent decades accumulating power.

He had crushed rebellions.

He had stood against foreign invaders.

He had amassed a wealth rivaling the Royal Treasury.

And yet, at this moment, all of it—his army, his riches, his court—felt insignificant before the monstrosity that stood in his chamber.

No… This is no longer a mere prince.

This is something beyond reason… beyond logic… beyond human understanding.

His instincts screamed at him.

This prince would not just claim the throne.

He would destroy anyone who stood in his way.

Including me, my nephew, and my entire family.

The Duke's breath came shaky and uneven as he forced himself to sit up straighter. He had been a ruler for too long to openly show weakness.

But he knew.

The moment Prince Aung left this chamber alive, the Duke's reign would be over.

There was only one choice.

He had to kill him.

Now.

Or everything—his legacy, his power, his very life—would be lost.

And so, with one final, desperate command, he made his decision.

"Kill him! Kill the Second Prince! Kill his generals! Let no one leave this hall alive!"

His voice echoed like thunder across the chamber.

A split second later—

The entire hall erupted into chaos.

Jason barely flinched as the Duke's personal knights, generals, and magi surged forward, their weapons and spells ready to strike him down.

Hundreds of blades gleamed in the flickering chamber light.

Dozens of mages raised their staffs, charging devastating spells.

The Royal Army General stationed in Khachin Province drew his greatsword and bellowed:

"You filth born from a whore should have never existed! DIE!"

Jason froze.

For a brief moment, silence filled the chamber.

Then—

A murderous rage unlike anything he had ever felt exploded from within him.

A suffocating wave of divine energy surged outward, crushing the air itself.

The ground cracked.

The stone pillars trembled.

The walls groaned under an unseen pressure.

"You dare…" Jason's voice was like a whisper in the wind—calm, yet filled with the wrath of a thousand storms.

His golden eyes burned with pure, absolute fury.

And in that instant—

He moved.

The first knight never even saw the blade.

A flash of light—and his head was gone.

Blood sprayed across the marble floor as his body collapsed, lifeless.

The second knight tried to raise his sword.

Too slow.

Jason materialized before him, his blade slicing clean through his chest plate, splitting his body in two.

A mage released a firestorm spell.

Jason simply walked through it.

The flames parted around him like a sea bowing before its master.

He blinked forward.

One movement—and the mage's head was cleaved from his shoulders.

Another knight lunged at him with a spear.

Jason grabbed it mid-air, twisted it around, and impaled the knight through his throat with his own weapon.

A Royal Army General—one of the strongest men in the Empire—roared, swinging his massive greatsword at Jason.

It was a strike that could split a castle gate in half.

Jason caught it with one hand.

The General's eyes widened in horror.

Jason tightened his grip—

And shattered the sword into pieces with his bare hand.

Before the General could react, Jason's blade tore through his chest, bursting through his back.

"You insulted my mother." Jason's voice was cold and unfeeling.

He twisted the sword violently, tearing the man apart.

The General fell, blood pooling beneath him.

The entire hall turned into a slaughterhouse.

Every knight, every mage, every general—all cut down.

Jason never stopped moving.

His blade sang like a whispering wind—

Each stroke precise.

Each cut lethal.

Each movement faster than the eye could follow.

Within moments—

The chamber was covered in blood.

And no one was left standing.

Except him.

The Final ConfrontationJason stood before Duke Myint Myat Kyaw Saw, his sword still dripping with the blood of his men.

The Duke's face was pale.

His hands shook violently as he stared at the carnage before him.

The strongest knights and magi under his command—all dead.

One of the strongest General in the Royal Army—killed like an insect.

His guards, his court, his allies—slaughtered without effort.

The realization finally sank in.

There was no escaping this.

Jason was not human.

He was a force of nature.

And now, it was his turn to die.

Jason stepped forward.

The Duke fell to his knees, trembling.

His voice came out as a whimper.

"P-Please… spare me."

Jason tilted his head, watching the old man beg.

"Spare you?" he murmured.

His grip on his sword tightened.

"Did you spare the innocent people of this land?"

He slashed—

The Duke screamed as his right arm was severed.

"Did you spare the slaves you worked to death?"

Another slash—

His left leg was torn away.

"Did you spare those who could not pay your ridiculous taxes?"

Another limb gone.

The Duke shrieked in agony, his body collapsing onto the blood-soaked floor.

Jason knelt beside him, his golden eyes devoid of emotion.

Then, in a whisper only the Duke could hear—

"Did you ever spare anyone, Myint Myat Kyaw Saw?"

The Duke's final breath came out in a shudder.

And then—

Jason's sword fell one last time.

The Duke's head rolled across the chamber floor.

And the greediest person in the whole Empire was dead.

…

The chamber was silent.

Jason slowly walked towards the Duke's throne, stepping over the bodies of the fallen.

He reached it, standing before the golden seat of power.

Then, without hesitation—

He removed the Duke's lifeless body from the throne and tossed it aside.

And he sat upon it.

His gaze swept across the hall.

The nobles who remained alive knelt instantly.

His Generals knelt.

Even the Duke's most loyal ministers bent the knee, their faces drained of all color.

The entire Khachin Court knelt before him.

Jason exhaled, allowing his divine energy to fully unleash.

A golden aura engulfed the throne, radiating an overwhelming sense of absolute dominion.

And then—

He spoke.

"From this day forth, I shall take the throne."

His voice echoed like a divine decree.

"Those who disobey me will be erased down to their bloodline."

His golden gaze pierced through every soul in the chamber.

"Choose now."

"Loyalty… or death."

For a single heartbeat—

No one breathed.

Then, as one—

Every single noble, general, and official lowered their heads.

"All hail the Second Prince!"

"All hail the future Emperor!"

Jason closed his eyes.

It had begun.

(Continue…)