Supreme Dictator | An Ode to The Innocent

Chapter 2

Was it supposed to go everything as his mother saw?

Was he supposed to stay in place and get stomped into nothing?

Does he have to play the ignorant fool and a miserable bastard?

Play the part of a naive child not knowing about her lonely suicide because of his sole mistake of an existence?

Cale Henituse thinks that no, that should not be the case. He has intended to live the way he wants and not what some prophecy that she has apparently seen, Cale doesn't want to get dictated by a thing called Fate or whatever it was that tied him.

Cale likes to dictate his own prowess in his own life in a way that makes everything much easier. At first, taking lead and being in politics made him greasy and ill, having to be fake in front of the eyes of every person you meet. It's utterly exhausting.

However, he did the most excellent job a genius child could offer. But the responsibility that came within that knowledgeable brain is damaging.

It both disgusts him that these noble men have to have kids to do the work for them. Seriously, needing help from a child? Where did that bravery and intelligence go? So much big talk only for them to go away and cower in helpless tomfoolery.

"You really have the nerve, don't you?" Cale sneers, digging his nails all over the arm. A vassal was scratching his own, trying to get rid off the painful hold, only for him to worsen it by tugging it harshly.

Cale Henituse kneed his abdomen without any caution, making the vassal stumble in pain and let out a foul cough.

The redhead took this chance to swing his leg high up before slamming the hilt of his shoes on the man's back, a loud shriek emitted from that filthy mouth. "AH! I, I, I am-- so sor-euhk!"

"Aha~ now, come on. You've been talking," Cale stops for a moment. Giving the man a few moments to breathe before stomping his foot on the back of the vassal's head.

Cale couldn't stop a smile rising on his lips. "--lots of shit with me being in charge. You've been yapping like a dog, all day long whilst I was busy handling my share of work. Did you think I'd give you a free pass?"

Technically, the Henituse patriarch and countess did not actively support his authority, but inadvertently so. Oh well. Not like they had a choice or opinion about him anyway. What can two comatose adults do?

As long as he is in charge, he is the one who should they bow after. Not some random, dirty-looking airbag from the streets with no sense of brains and drugs.

"What's wrong? Can't talk now?" The redhead hums in giddiness, his foot grounds the back of the vassal.

The vassal chokes when the red-headed noble's leg moved and instead kicked from his throat. He could feel blood drop from his mouth at the strong impact of the head of his platforms, it spills on the floor poorly.

He stares wide-eyed, terrified and paralyzed - rooted in one place as he sees his teeth slowly showed itself from the pool of blood.

"Oi, you ought to talk when somebody asks you politely. Has your parents even let you learn basic communication?"

Cale scoffs and swiftly removed his leg, bored from having to scold all of these pieces of shits and having to do all the job for them.

"Hans!"

Almost as if it was his own will, the ginger-haired butler immediately appeared beside him and took care of the fainted man.

He was silent and emotionless, not like the stuttering and foolish dumb rabbit that is always fidgety around him. Cale liked this butler better. Now that he has molded it as how he wants it, he shall now leave his list of discarded subjects.

Cale continues on with a nonchalant glance, "Bring it to the office and heal him. Make sure his mouth stays shut."

Hans obediently responded with a bow: "I shall do as you say, Patriarch-nim."

Cale unambiguously smiles at the development, a dark shade befalls underneath his bands as he thought about making everyone his subjects and fulfill his objectives. It's only in due time before that son of a bitch thinks that he would be able to get everything.

Hideous tendrils seep out from his back before it completely disappears from the small twitch of his fingers. His smile widens and passed through the hallways with a confident strut.

Precise and laze-elegance.

Cale Henituse, like a fire, burning wild and fiercely moving in the most brightest way possible - bursting like the sparks of fireworks. Enigmatic and a charm.

Throughout his enjoyment of the hallways, the redhead observed everything before walking towards a specific place inside the Estate.

A golden door with a golden turtle emblem, the intricate designs are made of gold also - it shines the wealth. However, Cale clicks his tongue in distaste. Has he ever mentioned how dramatically extra his ancestors were? Ah, whatever.

Pushing the door open, he is met with a dark room. No light, no window. Just a miserable box of a room, yet it was enough for five king size bed to fit.

Cale's lips formed a small smile as the door closes with a slam and walked towards a candlelit part of the room. He took the handle and went to the centre before whispering words in another language. The darkness quickly vanished as the fire of the candle flew up and surrounded the ceiling in a circular setting.

There were two beds inlaid on his sides; the Henituse patriarch and Countess laid on those two coffin like beds.

Their expressions were peaceful, however there was a strange string connected by their fingers, a magic tube filled with blood below his feet. It was used as some sort of keeping them unconscious while also feeding them.

It was a hassle to create such a tool, Cale had to kill the maker before word got out. He can't have people immediately trying to escape now, can he? He also can't have his subjects immediately vying for his creations. Low life creature need to have their own.

In where he traps everyone in a cage, a word such as freedom feels light and plastic. Such thing was nonsense in a world like this, Cale loathes it. There was no such thing as infinite liberty, no matter what, it's always limited and trapped between walls. How can one seek freedom without its chain?

It's bullshit. Even a chained bird would rather die than get out of the cage.

"Bothersome. You are all so bothersome, it annoys me."

Cale scoffs and turned around, walking farther back as he opened another door inside and was welcomed with another coffin--however, it was made out of glass. A distinct body of a man was trapped inside.

Cale smiles gleefully at the sight of his beloved marionette, his creation and walked leisurely. His knuckles accompanied by sharp and silver accessories, or simply, defensive weaponry. He stretched the bones of his fingers, illusionary teeth gnashing on the base of his clothed palm before the shadow dispersed with a shrill.

Stopping at the front, the redhead giddily touches the top of the glass and hums a creepy tone that could rival a vengeful spirit's aura.

"Soon..." Rust eyes glow in the dark as he stares wide-eyed, inside his thoughts filled with venomous spite as his fingers tap slowly, creating a tune of leisure: "It'll be soon, my dear~"

A wide smile spreads on his lips as his eyes crinkle in a sadistic manner.

After everything goes according to plan, his creation will live and be the divine punishment solely created for their ignorant arrogance.

"Once I destroy the minds and hope of the people— and take the heart of that bastard, you'll be alive~"

"The world will meet its end for it did you dirty and unjustified."