The Supreme Emperor Reborn as the Broken Servant

The stars fell like droplets of burning gold, piercing through a sky choked with crimson smoke. Lucas knelt on the fractured marble of the Celestial Palace, his hands slick with the warm, glowing blood of his empress.

"Don't leave me, Chloe!" he roared, his voice shaking the foundations of the cosmos as he held her fading form close. He desperately pressed his hand against her fatal wound, trying to hold her fracturing divine essence together.

"You must survive," she whispered, her lips pale as her divine light began to fracture into thousands of scattered sparks. Her hand gently brushed his cheek before falling limp against the shattered floor, her breathing stopping entirely.

"I will wait for you... in the dust," her final words lingered in the quiet air like a fading echo. Lucas choked on his own breath, the agonizing weight of her passing tearing through his mind.

"I swear by my eternal soul!" Lucas choked out, tears of blood carving paths down his face. "I will tear down the heavens, find you in the lower realms, and butcher every single traitor who caused this!"

Suddenly, a cold blade tore through his back, twisting violently until it shattered his spine and pierced his immortal heart. "Your reign ends here, Emperor," a familiar, mocking voice sneered from behind him as darkness finally swallowed his vision.

***

Lucas shot upright in his small, cramped bed, his chest heaving violently as he gasped for air in the dim room. The phantom smell of ozone and burning blood lingered in his nose, so heavy and thick that it made him want to vomit.

"An emperor? A celestial war? Bullshit," Lucas muttered, rubbing his throbbing temples as he forced the ridiculous, recurring nightmare away. If he was some supreme cosmic god, why did his knees ache every single morning from driving for twelve hours straight?

Why did he have to swallow his pride daily, acting as a lowly dog for the arrogant, billionaire Sterling family just to buy medicine? The sharp, irritating ring of his cracked smartphone shattered the morning silence, vibrating violently against the wooden nightstand.

He snapped it up quickly, seeing the name flashing on the screen and instantly bracing his mind for the inevitable onslaught of verbal abuse. "Where the hell is the wine, you useless trash?" Sterling Blair’s sharp voice shrieked through the speaker, piercing his ears.

"I already picked it up from the secure vault, Blair," Lucas replied, forcing his voice to remain steady and calm. "I am on my way to the banquet hall right now."

"Don't call me by my name, you pathetic servant!" she snapped coldly. "You are just a live-in dog our family brought in out of pity. The only reason you have a fiancée title is because my grandfather was senile enough to make that stupid promise."

"Bring the Romanée-Conti to the top floor of the Grand Imperial Hotel within ten minutes, or I will personally cut your sister’s funding." The line went dead before he could answer, leaving him staring at the blank screen with a tight, suffocating knot in his chest.

Lucas gripped the steering wheel of the delivery van tightly, his knuckles turning stark white as he took a deep breath. He had no memories of any past life, only the reality of a harsh world where money dictated who lived and who died.

Ten years ago, his late savior had passed away, leaving behind a fragile, sick daughter named Maya who needed constant medical care. To keep her alive, Lucas had signed a harsh, humiliating live-in contract with the Sterling family, accepting their relentless mockery.

He endured the kicks, the insults, and the public shame because the elderly patriarch, Elder Su, was the only one who treated him like a human. The old man truly cared for him, shielding him from the worst of the family's cruelty whenever he was around.

"Just a little longer, Maya," Lucas whispered to himself, looking at a small photo of his smiling sister taped to the dashboard. "Brother will make sure you get better, no matter what it takes."

He accelerated through the heavy rain, navigating the neon-lit streets of Oakhaven until the towering skyscraper of the hotel loomed ahead. The Grand Imperial banquet hall was a sea of glittering diamonds, expensive suits, and the soft clinking of crystal glasses.

Lucas walked through the heavy gilded doors, carrying the wooden wine crate under the disdainful stares of the wealthy guests. "Look who finally decided to show up," a young man sneered, swirling a glass of champagne as Lucas walked past.

"The Sterling family's resident stray dog." "I heard he actually cleans the tires with his bare hands if Young Master Richard asks him to," another laughed loudly. Lucas kept his head straight, refusing to look at them as he walked directly toward the main VIP table at the front.

Elder Sterling sat in a large, ornate chair, his face wrinkled but bright with joy as he celebrated his eightieth birthday. Sterling Blair stood right beside him, dressed in a stunning crimson gown, her arm casually linked with a handsome man in a tailored tuxedo.

That man was Young Master Richard, the ruthless heir to the city's largest rival pharmaceutical syndicate. "Grandfather, the wine has arrived," Blair said, her voice instantly changing into a sweet, affectionate tone as she smiled at the old man.

"Ah, Lucas, my boy!" Elder Sterling beamed, gesturing for him to come closer. "You always find the best vintages for this old skeleton." "Thank you, Elder Su. Happy birthday," Lucas said softly, carefully opening the wooden crate and pulling out the dusty, ancient bottle.

"Let me pour it for you, Grandfather," Blair offered quickly, taking the bottle from Lucas’s hands with an unusual eagerness. She poured the dark, rich liquid into a beautiful, custom-carved crystal goblet that sat directly in front of the old man.

"To your health and long life!" Young Master Richard raised his own glass, his eyes gleaming with a strange, dark intensity. Elder Sterling chuckled warmly, picking up the heavy goblet and taking a deep, appreciative gulp of the vintage wine.

"Splendid! Truly splendid!" the old man coughed, but his smile suddenly froze as his eyes widened in sheer horror. A sharp gasp escaped his lips, and he dropped the crystal goblet, letting it shatter against the marble floor.

"Grandfather?" Blair gasped, stepping back as the old man suddenly clutched his throat, his face turning a horrific shade of purple. Elder Sterling fell forward onto the table, convulsive tremors racking his fragile body as thick, black blood erupted from his mouth.

The entire banquet hall fell into absolute, dead silence before erupting into a wave of panicked screams and shouting. "Poison! The wine is poisoned! It’s him!" Blair shrieked at the top of her lungs, pointing a trembling, manic finger directly at Lucas.

"Lucas poisoned my grandfather! He wanted to steal the family inheritance because we refuse to marry him!" The surrounding high-society guests gasped in horror, instantly backing away from Lucas as if he were a rabid beast standing in their midst.

"Are you insane?" Lucas roared, his voice cutting through the panic like a thunderclap as his blood ran cold with shock. "I didn't do this! The bottle was sealed when I brought it! I certainly have no reason to harm the only man who loved me!"

"Shut up, you murderous trash!" Young Master Richard stepped forward, his expression full of righteous, theatrical fury. "The evidence is right here! You brought the wine from the vault, you poured it, and now Elder Sterling is dying because of your pathetic greed!"

"I didn't pour it, Blair did!" Lucas shouted fiercely, refusing to be their silent scapegoat. He lunged forward before anyone could react, snatching the nearly full bottle of Romanée-Conti right off the table.

"If you think the wine is poisoned, I will prove my absolute innocence!" Lucas declared, throwing his head back and downing a massive, burning gulp of the dark liquid right in front of the stunned crowd.

The banquet hall held its collective breath, eyes wide as everyone waited for the lowly driver to collapse, convulse, and spew black blood just like the patriarch. But five seconds passed, then ten, and Lucas stood perfectly still, breathing heavily but remaining completely unharmed.

"See? The wine is completely pure!" Lucas shouted, his voice echoing off the walls as he slammed the bottle down. "I am perfectly fine! The poison wasn't in the bottle!"

Sterling Blair stepped forward, a cold, venomous smirk twisting her beautiful features as she let out a loud, mocking round of slow applause. "Of course you're perfectly fine, you pathetic, useless trash," Blair sneered, her voice dripping with calculated malice as she addressed the room.

"You knew the wine inside the bottle was clean because you didn't poison the wine itself!" Blair announced loudly, pointing an aggressive finger at him. "You poisoned Grandfather’s glass with an untraceable toxin before the banquet even began!"

Lucas opened his mouth, desperate to argue that he had only just arrived at the venue minutes ago and couldn't possibly have touched the table setup. But before he could even voice his defense, the crowd's aggressive murmurs completely drowned out his breath.

"She is entirely correct!" Young Master Richard chimed in with theatrical disgust, playing his role perfectly. "You deliberately drank from the bottle to perform this cheap trick and clear your name after trying to murder the patriarch!”

Lucas’s heart stopped completely as he looked around the room, his eyes wide with a sudden, suffocating horror. Not a single high-society guest expressed a shred of doubt; they all nodded in absolute agreement, instantly swallowing Blair’s calculated lie as the undeniable truth.

"What a ruthless monster!" a wealthy tycoon whispered in disgust. "To poison the old man's cup and then try to play the victim!" The collective, judging stares of the elite crowd pressed down on Lucas like a crushing physical weight.

Lucas felt his mind fracture, a profound, agonizing heartbreak ripping through his chest as the reality of her trap fully sank in. Every single word, every accusation, and even his own desperate attempt to prove his innocence had been perfectly calculated by his fiancée from the very start.

"You... you monster!" Lucas screamed, lunging forward with reckless desperation, trying to grab her by the lace collar to drag her dark confession out into the open light. "She did it! She poisoned her own—"

Before he could finish his sentence, two massive, heavily armed mercenaries intercepted him, slamming his fragile frame hard against the unyielding marble floor. The impact dazed him instantly, throwing his vision into a chaotic, spinning blur.

Their heavy tactical boots crashed directly into his ribs, driving the air completely out of his lungs in a sickening, painful burst. He gasped like a fish out of water, his fingers clawing uselessly at the cold stone beneath him.

"Break his legs so he can't run away from justice!" Young Master Richard ordered coldly, a casual wave of his hand signaling his elite security detail. Richard adjusted his silk necktie, his eyes completely devoid of any human empathy.

A brutal mercenary stepped forward, raising a heavy, solid steel pipe high into the air as the surrounding billionaires watched in silent approval. The metal glinted menacingly under the bright crystal chandeliers.

CRACK!

A sickening, wet crunch echoed sharply through the grand hall as the heavy metal pipe shattered Lucas’s left knee completely into jagged pieces. A white-hot flash of pure agony blinded him instantly, tearing his sanity apart.

Lucas threw his head back, an agonizing, blood-curdling scream ripping from his raw throat as his vision dissolved into tears of unadulterated pain. His body convulsed violently on the polished marble floor.

CRACK!

The second strike came immediately after, brutally smashing his right knee and reducing his remaining leg joints to a ruined, bloody mess of bone and torn flesh. The sheer shock of the trauma made his chest heave frantically.

He writhed helplessly in the expanding pool of his own blood, his fingernails cracking as he clawed desperately at the marble, leaving dark, crimson streaks behind him. The pain was an all-consuming fire.

"Someone call an ambulance for Grandfather!" Blair cried out theatrically, turning her back on the broken youth without a single shred of genuine remorse. She wiped an imaginary tear from her eye to maintain her high-society facade.

Richard’s thugs gripped Lucas tightly by his damp hair, ruthlessly dragging his limp, shattered body across the floor toward the massive floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows. His broken legs trailed uselessly behind him like dead weights.

"Let’s clean up this trash before the authorities arrive," Richard murmured, stepping up to the window ledge and looking down into his blurred, pain-filled vision with absolute disdain. Richard signaled the mercenaries to lift him up.

The heavy-set mercenaries swung Lucas’s broken body back and forth, building momentum as they stood right at the very edge of the fragile glass barrier. Lucas choked on his own blood, unable to even fight back.

CRASH!

The thick reinforced glass shattered into millions of glittering shards as Lucas was flung violently out into the dark, freezing night sky. The vacuum of the upper air caught him instantly, twisting his limp form.

The freezing, rain-slicked wind hit his pale face as he began his terrifying, rapid descent from the eighty-story heights of the luxury skyscraper. The glittering lights of Oakhaven spun wildly around his fading consciousness.

Through the roaring wind and the loud crack of thunder, Young Master Richard’s final, mocking words echoed down clearly from the broken window above. "Don't worry about your useless sister, Lucas! Her life support at the hospital ends exactly tonight!”