Tyrant? No, I am the Villain
Chapter 38: Brutal, absolute and tyrannical

Chapter 38: Brutal, absolute and tyrannical

Celine felt it, the true paralyzing fear as standing before her was Estefan Angeras, it wasn’t just a man she faced but rather a force that radiated death or at least that’s what it felt like to her. The aura was oppressive, suffocating and it was aimed directly at her.

She stood frozen as her breath caught in her throat. For the first time in years she was speechless not because she didn’t have something to say, but because she feared that even a single misplaced word might result in her death.

Estefan, who remained unfazed, calmly returned to his seat, his tone icy and unbothered. "Your uncle’s offer." He began, relaxing on the couch, "I reject it."

He paused deliberately before continuing, "To be honest, I should be the one offering to make you my dog, considering how absurd that deal was. But I won’t judge. After all, criminals like you have always lacked shame."

He then gestured casually toward the coffee on the teapoy. "Drink so you can calm down before you drop dead from stress."

He didn’t bother to hide the mockery in his voice since he had won utterly in this conversation they were having and he wanted her to feel it.

Celine turned silently, walking away without a word. Her pride was shattered and her tongue, once her most dangerous weapon, now felt like a noose she had nearly hung herself with.

As she approached the grand exit of the palace, Estefan threw one last dagger behind her. "Careful not to trip on your own tongue. It’s longer than your usefulness."

He leaned back, interlocking his hands behind his head as he stared up at the palace ceiling. "I really did expect something more worthwhile. Maybe even some real information in exchange for peace... but it seems they still don’t understand their place."

At his side, Galliard stepped forward, still reeling from the tension left in the room. "My lord, shall we expect more guests today?"

Estefan shook his head. "No. That’ll be the last of them."

Then, he narrowed his eyes. "But do summon Frejlurd. Tell him to come here as soon as possible."

"As you wish." Galliard replied and swiftly departed for the communication room. The City Guard fortress would soon receive the summons.

Estefan picked up the newspaper and unfolded it with casual ease. "Looks like Father is having quite the busy day." He muttered. Politics, political maneuverings and palace intrigue are all printed plainly across the pages.

The Angeras family ruled the duchy uncontested as they were the only aristocratic household in the entire territory and Estefan stood as the sole noble outside of the Duke himself, holding the rank of Baron.

He sipped his coffee, reading leisurely while Celine’s carriage stormed out of the palace gates.

"Return to the mansion!" She barked at the coachman, visibly furious. Her hands clenched at the sides of her thighs. The carriage jolted forward and her pride was injured, but for now, all she could do was retreat and report back to her uncle.

Meanwhile, Estefan set down the newspaper and whispered under his breath, "Keep an eye on her."

No servant acknowledged his words, but he knew his bloodhounds, those hidden eyes and blades loyal only to him, had heard as if it was an order for them. Celine Zorthar was marked now and her movements would be watched closely.

Hours had passed.

Frejlurd, the new Commander of the City Guard, arrived at the palace in haste. He entered Estefan’s study, where the Baron sat hunched over a wide desk cluttered with official documents and sealed letters.

Without hesitation, Frejlurd dropped to one knee. "My lord. I was told you summoned me."

Estefan didn’t immediately respond. His eyes stayed on the paper he was reading, flicking from line to line with measured calm.

Frejlurd remained kneeling in silence, waiting. Sweat formed on his brow as it was not from physical exertion, but from the anxiety of not knowing why he’d been called.

Finally, Estefan broke the silence. "How is life as the Commander?" He asked, still not looking up.

"It has been... fine." Frejlurd replied, head still lowered. "I have secured my position. I have purged the remaining loyalists to the old command. Those who refused to bend their knees to you are gone."

"Good." Estefan muttered, eyes still fixed on the documents. "But tell me this, have you expanded your control over the city? Or is it still the pathetic patch of land you and your regiment held before?"

Frejlurd hesitated. "My lord... the areas outside our direct control are vast. Our numbers aren’t enough to take more ground and hold it. If we expand too fast, we risk losing everything we conquered."

Estefan didn’t answer immediately. He flipped through another page. "Have you begun recruiting?" He asked flatly.

"I have." Frejlurd said, "But the people... well they don’t like us much. The City Guard’s reputation is terrible. No one wants to join a force seen as corrupt and ineffective and they are afraid of joining us if it means fighting criminals they have lived under for years due to fear."

Estefan sighed heavily. He folded the paper, set it down, and rubbed his temple. "So... the people hate their protectors... and fear the monsters."

He looked up, meeting Frejlurd’s head for the first time. "It’s not their fault." Estefan said, "It’s yours."

Frejlurd flinched, his hands tightening into fists. "My lord, I-"

Estefan raised a hand. "Not you alone. The entire City Guard which is a rotting corpse of lawmen who chose silence while this city bled."

Frejlurd nodded solemnly, almost relieved. He had lived long under the shadow of the previous commander who always blamed him for every mistake, punished for every flaw. But Estefan wasn’t doing that.

"You have to fix it." Estefan ordered. "Rebuild the force. Turn it into something worth fearing for those criminals and worth trusting for the citizens who need saviours."

"I will, my lord." Frejlurd said quickly, "But I will need time."

"Time is a luxury we do not have." Estefan stood. "I don’t want to spend the next decade dragging this city out of the gutter. I want it fixed. Now if possible, I will not simply pressure you but rather I will offer you a way."

He walked to the desk and picked up a file before returning to Frejlurd. "Take this."

Frejlurd stood and accepted the folder. He opened it, eyes widening slightly.

"This is..." He began.

"A tax record." Estefan confirmed. "A list of businesses within our territory, I mean your territory, the one that you still have some control over... the businesses that haven’t paid taxes in months. Many of them are connected to criminals. Some directly are under Zorthar or Lutis operations."

"I see." Frejlurd said, still scanning the document. "Should I send a notice? Demand payment?"

Estefan’s eyes locked onto his. "No."

Frejlurd looked up to him while being confused with that response.

"I want you to kill them." Estefan ordered.

Frejlurd blinked. "My lord...?"

Estefan turned and looked out the window. "Not just scare them or just threaten them but rather wipe them out. Kill the owners and burn the operations. Take their businesses and hand them to people who will obey our laws. We take control by fire and steel, not negotiations."

Frejlurd was stunned. His hands trembled slightly. This wasn’t governance but this was war. But Estefan’s voice was calm and in that moment, Frejlurd understood that the City will have a new style of governance, one which is brutal, absolute and tyrannical.

[To be Continued]