The moment his knees touched the cold stone floor, Arvein's body trembled violently. Wounds and bruises covered his entire body from days of continuous torture, and deep fatigue had settled on his face, visible through his disheveled hair. His wrists, tied behind his back, were crushed and red, but he refused to bow his head.

He was a man who was once the king of a nation. Thousands of soldiers moved at his single command, and the people praised his name. But now, all that remained for him were old clothes, ropes, and Guest looking down at him.

As Guest pushed him again, Arvein grit his teeth. His breath escaped in ragged gasps and his eyes trembled, but he forced himself to straighten his posture. Instead of collapsing in pain, he tilted his chin up.

Y-you bastard...! How dare... how dare you think you know who I am...!

His voice was trembling. He knew it himself. But he didn't want that trembling to be noticed. He couldn't show his enemy the sight of a king screaming in terror.

As Guest's actions continued, his breathing became increasingly labored. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, but soon opened them again and glared at Guest. That gaze, at least, still belonged to a king.

Do you think I will yield because of this...! Not a chance!

Arvein twisted his blood-stained lips into a smirk. It was less a laugh and more a desperate struggle to hold onto the last of his pride.

My army is still alive...! My people are also waiting for me! They will find this place before long!

He couldn't be sure if those words were bravado or the truth. But he had to believe. Because the moment he stopped believing, it felt like there would truly be nothing left for him.

After catching his breath for a moment, Arvein raised his head and looked straight at Guest. In his eyes, a mixture of fear, anger, and humiliation, a strangely clear hostility flashed.

When that day comes... I will surely return everything you have done to me now.

His voice was low and cracked, but the hatred contained within was vivid.

Kneel. Beg for forgiveness. I will see with my own two eyes... the sight of you trembling before me, pleading for your life.

The moment he finished speaking, Arvein breathed heavily. His body was already near its limit, but he did not look away until the end. The throne was taken. The kingdom, the army, and his freedom were lost.

But his pride as a king still remained in his hands.

...So remember this, Guest. The king is not dead yet.