The Villain’s Cheat Code: When a Gamer Becomes the Evil God’s Sidekick Chapter 459: How Can He Be More Ruthless Than Me

Viktor's words hit the hall like a thunderclap.

The nobles' eyes widened in shock, bodies frozen in place, faces drained of color.

What? The southern monster uprising was connected to Rippert?

Impossible. How could it be?

Rippert had only returned to the capital two weeks ago. How could the southern rift crisis involve him?

But Viktor's point was undeniable—the south did fall under Reiser jurisdiction.

And now, a catastrophic failure had occurred.

Poor Reiser governance, requiring Kravina intervention—this was indeed problematic.

Moreover, while this banquet bore the First Prince's na, Rippert was the actual financier.

Such convenient timing.

The capital's feast begins, and the southern front collapses?

Initially, no one harbored such suspicions. But Viktor's words cast everything in sinister light.

Still, they instinctively refused to believe it.

All eyes turned to Rippert, desperate for truth.

Countless gazes waited for the Reiser patriarch to provide satisfactory answers.

Rippert surveyed the room, eting each noble's stare.

He drew a deep breath, eyes opening slightly with a deflated, helpless smile.

Raising his head, those flowing golden eyes t Viktor's dark gaze once more:

"You're absolutely right. It was ."

Gasps echoed through the hall.

Shock and bewildernt crashed over them like waves.

Nobles retreated toward the walls, distancing themselves from Rippert by several ters.

Eyes wide, pupils trembling uncontrollably.

How could this be?

How could Rippert do such a thing?

Though Viktor's accusation had stirred suspicion, everyone instinctively rejected the possibility.

This matter was too grave—it concerned the entire empire's southern safety.

If monsters breached the lines, the southern region would face unimaginable catastrophe.

The empire's south was vast, densely populated.

Against the beast tide, those residents would be lambs for slaughter.

Within a single night, the entire south could beco a living hell.

And the Reiser family headquarters was also in the south.

Was Rippert planning to destroy his own ho?

They forgot to even ask why.

Nobles hunched against walls, hearts filled with endless confusion and bewildernt.

The First Prince heard clearest of all.

Trembling, he pressed against the wall for support, face etched with shock.

Staring at the unperturbed Rippert, Aubrey's eyes held nothing but questions and astonishnt.

"Uncle..."

"Tell this isn't true."

Rippert turned slowly, those ancient-well eyes still flowing with golden sand.

Noble radiance surrounded him as his gaze settled gently on the prince:

"Child, though I wish I could deny it, I'm sorry."

He smiled and continued:

"I've never been one to lie."

The First Prince swayed, legs trembling, finally collapsing against the wall.

The nobles finally grasped the situation's gravity, angrily confronting Rippert:

"Rippert! How dare you!"

"That's the empire's south! Do you know how many people live there?!"

"You're insane! A complete madman! Did you consider the consequences?"

But their words couldn't touch Rippert.

Cocotte yawned from her distant chair, chin propped, watching this farce with boredom:

"Human infighting."

"This one's truly despicable."

As forr councilor, Cocotte maintained high moral standards.

Even she, an elf, couldn't stomach his actions.

Lia observed calmly nearby.

Honestly, she'd never expected the Reiser head to admit everything so casually.

Despite the matter's severity, he acted as if playing an enormous joke.

Her gaze swept the hall—past spitting, cursing nobles and the prince's vacant stare and limp form.

Indeed, in their fury, they too hoped this was rely jest.

However...

When Gwen's stare fixed on Rippert, her calm expression turned ice-cold.

Hand on sword hilt, ready to draw.

In that mont, Lia understood.

Everything Rippert said was truth.

Why could Gwen reclaim her Knight Commander position? Largely because her justice had returned.

Before her, lies had nowhere to hide—like shadows pierced by sunlight.

As Rippert claid, he simply wasn't lying.

Then... his motive?

Lia pondered, thinking of one possibility.

But she didn't want to believe it.

Soon, the powerless prince slowly raised himself halfway.

Hand pressed to chest, voice trembling and broken:

"Uncle, why... why did you do this?"

"Because you're worthless now."

Silence.

Rippert's words struck like depth charges in boiling water.

Hands clasped behind his back, he watched their reactions calmly:

"Bluntly speaking, Your Highness, and everyone present—"

"Do you still think you have a chance?"

The nobles fell silent, feeling steel needles pierce their hearts.

Coldness crawled over their bodies.

They understood his aning—the throne's succession.

Everyone knew both princes' hopes had dimd.

The emperor's explicit naming, plus Kravina's support for the princess faction through elven diplomacy—

These factors had essentially predetermined the future heir.

Yet the nobles clung to desperate fantasy.

What if?

Rippert ruthlessly stripped away their illusions, laying cruel reality bare.

His words echoed through the hall like tearing festered wounds.

Blood dripped, piercing dry throats.

The First Prince weakened again, trembling.

"So..."

"So he engineered the rift breach, unleashing monsters against Godinlima."

Viktor explained calmly:

"If you care about the south, he'll help crush the beast tide."

"But dealing with rchants like this—consider the final price carefully."

Clap clap clap!

Rippert applauded, showing satisfied approval.

The First Prince stared in dazed shock, rooted like wood.

Rippert continued:

"If Your Highness doesn't care about southern affairs, that's fine too."

"Tiebo possesses advanced technology—we can absolutely stop those beasts."

He turned toward the prince, smiling:

"Don't forget, Your Highness. That dragon you brought back—our weapons solved that problem too."

Gasps.

Shocked gazes darted between prince and Rippert.

So the First Prince's achievents were...

Fabricated?

Supporting nobles gradually lowered their heads, sorrowful eyes filling with disappointnt and desolation.

Again, they didn't want to believe.

But seeing the prince's bowed head and clenched fists, they faced cruel truth.

Then their thoughts shifted, generating confusion.

Why ntion Tiebo's ability to stop the beast tide?

Wasn't he the one who released it?

Did he want to play savior?

No, that's not right...

So nobles had comrcial experience.

They suddenly looked up, eyes widening, staring at Rippert.

In their minds, an answer ford—

An incredibly dark possibility.

Rippert smiled faintly, eyes narrowing, mouth corners rising nearly to his ears.

"Correct. I won't support Godinlima. We'll wait quietly in Tiebo."

"Waiting for those displaced, fleeing residents. Waiting for monsters to hunt them toward their only escape."

Godinlima and Tiebo were close neighbors. In the southern border, beyond Tiebo lay only wasteland.

People's sole escape route led to Tiebo.

"Then we'll appear, using Tiebo's powerful weapons to save these refugees."

Nobles listening felt chill penetrate their spines.

Hands and feet went cold. Bodies trembled.

Yet Rippert simply spread his arms, leaning back with raised head.

Golden sand in his pupils spun rapidly, fanatical light bursting from his eyes:

"They'll be grateful. They'll worship ."

"But..."

Suddenly, Rippert stopped his frenzy, returning to calm.

He reopened his eyes, head tilted.

Like a machine, he gazed emotionlessly at the despairing nobles.

As if viewing a swarm of insects—too insignificant for notice.

Deep whispers rose like demonic murmurs, ghostly echoes filling this golden banquet hall.

Dark clouds writhed into worms, drilling into every ear:

"Rember—this is a paid service."

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