The Scum Emperor's Redemption System

"Mom!" Argider hurtled toward her mother, arms flung wide. She collided into Meloris with a fervent hug that was as uncharacteristic as it was bone-crushing.

For a fleeting moment, warmth and sentimentality bloomed. Then, Argider froze. Her arms went slack, and she stumbled back, her face blazing red.

This was unfamiliar territory. Public displays of affection? Between them? Absolutely not. Their relationship had always been a rickety bridge—strained but steadfast, creaking under the weight of both love and grudging reliance.

Meloris blinked, swaying slightly, her strength almost entirely spent. A faint smile tugged at her lips, though her sunken eyes betrayed her exhaustion. "Argider?" she rasped, her voice thin. "Why do you… look so different?" She coughed, the sound rattling in her chest. "Is that really you?"

Could it be her son? The same one who rarely, if ever, displayed competence beyond accidental success? Was he finally proving himself capable?

"Yeah, it's me!" Argider said, dropping to her knees in front of Meloris, her enthusiasm bubbling over. "Who else would go through all this trouble just for you?"

Meloris tilted her head, her brows furrowing. She studied Argider carefully, her motherly instincts pinging with suspicion. Something was off. Something was very off. "No," she said, her voice sharpening despite her weariness. "Are you… an imposter?"

"What?! No, Mom!" Argider groaned, throwing her hands in the air. "It's me! Look, I got killed—don't ask—and then resurrected as a woman. It's a long story, okay? Fialova can vouch for me." She gestured toward Fialova, who had been quietly observing the spectacle like a long-suffering babysitter.

Fialova nodded with solemn authority. "It's true, my lady. Since your disappearance, much has occurred. His—or rather, Her—Imperial Majesty was assassinated and returned to life… transformed. This is indeed Argider."

Meloris stared, her mind attempting to connect the absurd dots of this story. Her son—now her daughter? She hadn't given birth to a girl, and she certainly wasn't in the mood to rewrite history. Still, the explanation sat before her like an unruly cat demanding to be acknowledged.

"No," Meloris said again, shaking her head slowly. "No. This is too much. I'm not convinced." Her frown deepened, and she squinted harder, as if glaring at the situation would force it to make sense.

Argider sighed dramatically, slapping a hand over her face. "Fine! You want proof? Here it is: I'm sorry, okay? It was me who stole Adriana's panties when we were kids. They didn't get lost—I took them. Happy now?"

The silence that followed could've written an epic poem.

Meloris' jaw dropped. Fialova blinked so hard you'd think she'd caught an eyelash in her eye.

The audacity. The absolute audacity of this woman.

Oh.

So it really was Argider.

"Dear gods," Meloris muttered, weakly shaking her head. "It is you." She let out a long, suffering sigh that carried the weight of someone realizing their child might just be the universe's cruelest prank. If she could slap her own face, she would've done it twice.

"Don't look so disappointed!" Argider huffed indignantly, circling behind to untie her mother. "I literally crossed death and gender boundaries to get here and save you!"

Meloris, however, just closed her eyes. If she didn't see the chaos, maybe—just maybe—she could pretend it wasn't happening. But deep down, she knew the truth: this insufferable human being was hers. Son or daughter, nothing would change that.

"I'm not… I'm just surprised," Meloris said softly, her voice unsteady as she stared at Argider. "You're actually trying for once."

Argider sniffled, her hands still trembling as she worked the last knot loose. "H-How could I not? The thought of you being here… it's unbearable!" Her voice cracked as she finished untying her mother, blinking furiously to keep the tears from spilling over.

Meloris didn't wait. She pulled Argider into a fierce embrace, one that spoke of years of pent-up worry, guilt, and a love she rarely allowed herself to express. For a moment, Argider stiffened, her breath hitching. But then, warmth overtook her, and her shoulders sagged as she melted into her mother's arms. Her eyes burned, and she felt something unfamiliar—comfort.

"You're… not mad?" Argider's voice was barely above a whisper.

"I'm sorry," Meloris murmured, her hold tightening. "I'm not mad. I just… I thought you'd lost your way. I tried to help you find it, but I couldn't even find my own. I know I haven't been the best mother." Her voice wavered, and she rested her chin against Argider's shoulder, noticing the softness of her child's form. It struck her anew: Argider truly had become a woman.

Fialova stood nearby, her expression unreadable but her hands fidgeting awkwardly at her sides. Displays of affection like this were utterly foreign to her. Raised in a household where vulnerability was a luxury no one could afford, she found herself at a loss. And yet, a pang of envy twisted in her chest as she watched them. She saw Argider in a new light, one that unsettled and intrigued her.

Meloris finally pulled back, brushing a hand over her disheveled hair. "How did you even get in here?"

"Isolde," Argider answered, straightening. "She let me free you. She said you weren't supposed to be involved in this. And she warned me—there shouldn't be a war. Not yet. And honestly… I agree with her."

Meloris raised an eyebrow. "That girl. I'll never understand her. But I know she has a good heart. Though this sudden change is baffling..." She shook her head, already shifting gears. "No matter. It's time to leave."

They moved cautiously toward the tent's exit, the camp eerily quiet under the shroud of night. Most of the warriors were fast asleep, but two guards stood alert at the open fence gate ahead, their silhouettes lit by faint torchlight.

"Wait," Meloris said suddenly, her voice firm but hushed. "We're not leaving without freeing the slaves."

Without waiting for objections, she led them to a large wooden structure on the camp's outskirts. Its walls loomed ominously, and the faint sound of muffled breathing inside set Argider's teeth on edge. Meloris pushed the door open gently.

Argider's breath caught. The sight inside was devastating. Her people—tired, gaunt, and many barely clothed—huddled together in the dark. Their faces were drawn with exhaustion, but as the door creaked open, a glimmer of hope flickered in their hollow eyes.

Fialova held up a finger to her lips. "Shhh."

The three worked swiftly, untying the captives one by one. They moved quietly, their movements practiced but urgent. No words were exchanged—just the sound of rope snapping and whispered reassurances. When the last of the slaves was freed, they all rose silently, their chains clinking softly in the still air.

The group crept toward the exit, but as they stepped into the open, two warriors loomed in their path.

"Fucking Valtirium dogs!" one of them snarled, reaching for his weapon.

Fialova was already in motion. She lunged, slapping the blade aside with startling speed. The clang of metal on stone rang out like a bell, shattering the camp's stillness.

"WAKE UP!" one of the guards bellowed, his voice cutting through the night.

Around them, the camp stirred to life. Warriors stumbled out of their tents, weapons drawn and eyes bleary. Chaos erupted as the realization dawned—the slaves were escaping.

"Fucking dogs! How did they get loose?!"

"Get them!"

The enslaved began to scatter, some bolting for the woods while others huddled together in panic. Fialova unsheathed her sword, standing firm beside her mother and Argider.

Meloris raised her voice, sharp and commanding. "Protect the people! They're not going back into chains!"

The first warrior lunged, but Fialova intercepted him, her blade flashing as she parried his strike.

"And you!" Meloris snapped, her voice sharp and commanding as it cut through the chaos. "You're the Emperor, for god's sake! Protect your people!"

Argider flinched under the weight of her mother's scolding. "B-But Mom! I've been practicing, but I don't know if I can—"

"You can!" Meloris interrupted, her words brooking no argument.

Fialova nodded fiercely. "You must, Your Imperial Majesty. Fight like you mean it!"

Argider gulped, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum. She could see the warriors charging toward them, their footsteps a rising tide of doom. Her hand instinctively reached for the sword at her side, trembling as her fingers closed around the hilt. Was her training with Uzak worth anything? She didn't know. But what choice did she have?

"For fuck's sake!" one of the warriors bellowed as he approached. "I just wanted to sleep!"

One warrior closed in on her, his blade already swinging downward in a powerful arc. Argider yelped, her legs freezing in place. Fear gripped her, as it always did, rooting her to the ground. Yet somewhere, buried deep within her, a spark of defiance flared.

She pulled her sword free at the last second and raised it to meet the blow.

Clank!

The clash of steel on steel rang in her ears. The force of the impact sent shocks through her arms, and her knees wobbled dangerously. She stumbled, nearly collapsing under the weight of his strength. But she held firm. Somehow, she held firm.

"I've got you, Your Imperial Majesty!"n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Fialova's voice was a battle cry as she launched herself into the fray. She leaped high into the air, her blade gleaming under the moonlight, and in one clean, practiced motion, she decapitated the attacking warrior.

Argider gasped. She wished she hadn't seen that.

Meloris turned away, her face pale, one hand flying to her mouth as though to keep her stomach from revolting.

Argider stared down at her trembling hands, her mind reeling. Did I just… defend myself? Her fingers ached from gripping the sword, but a strange sense of accomplishment warmed her chest. She glanced at her hands, calloused and growing rougher with time. Was this what it meant to fight? To hold her ground?

The moment was short-lived.

"Motherfucker!"

More warriors were rushing in. The thunder of their boots reverberated like a storm. Argider's grip tightened, but then—

Boom, boom, boom.

Heavy footsteps echoed across the battlefield, accompanied by the unmistakable clink of armor. From the road leading into the encampment, a massive flag emerged, its golden insignia gleaming in the torchlight.

It was the Imperial Knights.

The Empire's army had arrived.

Uzak, Tina, and Denzelle rode at the head of the formation, their armor streaked with blood.

"Give us back the Emperor—Her Imperial Majesty—and the Empress Dowager!" Uzak bellowed, his voice carrying across the camp.

The Peliotus warriors froze, their confidence cracking like glass.

"Fuck," one of them muttered. "Did they kill all of them?"

Denzelle smirked, leaning lazily in his saddle. He reached into a sack and pulled out a severed head, holding it aloft like a grotesque trophy. "Oh, they're dead all right. Care to join them?"

Even the Imperial soldiers flinched at the sight, though Denzelle looked far too pleased with himself. Efficient, he would call it. Sadistic, others might argue.

"Fine! Take them!" one of the warriors shouted, his voice a mix of frustration and fear. "They're useless anyway!"

The other Peliotus warriors grumbled, reluctantly stepping aside. Their pride screamed for vengeance, but their teachings were clear—when the odds were insurmountable, retreat was not cowardice but survival.

The enslaved ran toward the Imperial army, sobbing as they reached safety. Some clutched children in their arms, their small faces pale and gaunt. Meloris watched them with a bittersweet smile, her heart breaking for their suffering but swelling with relief.

But one warrior refused to stand down.

"Like hell I'll submit!" he roared, stepping forward. He was massive, towering over the others, his muscles rippling with raw power. "I'll prove myself to Lord Togra, the Tatu of the Peliotus, the almighty himself!"

He charged, his blade gleaming as it aimed straight for Meloris.

"Mother!" Argider's voice rang out.

Fialova cursed, her hand gripping her sword, but she was too far away. The Imperial knights surged forward, but they wouldn't make it in time.

"No!"

Argider moved.

The blade pierced her shoulder, its force slamming her back as though she'd been struck by a thunderbolt. She gasped, blood spilling from her lips as the pain exploded through her body. Flesh tore, bone cracked, and the world tilted as she fell to her knees.

Meloris froze, her soul leaving her body at the sight.

Fialova's expression darkened, her fury igniting like a storm. How dare he touch her Emperor? Her blade hummed with power, crackling with purple energy as she summoned every ounce of her strength.

With a feral cry, she lunged. Her sword slashed clean through the warrior, splitting him in two with brutal efficiency. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

The battlefield fell silent.

Fialova turned to Argider, who lay crumpled on the ground, her eyes fluttering shut as unconsciousness took her.

"Argider!" Fialova shouted, dropping to her knees beside her Emperor.