Reborn as the Psycho Villainess Who Ate Her Slave Beasts' Contracts

"Secondary artifact?"

"The necklace under his robes. I noticed it earlier. Probably another stored-magic item." Elara reached down and yanked a thin chain from around the Emperor’s neck. A small medallion dangled from it, faintly glowing.

She crushed it under her boot. The glow died.

"Problem solved."

Parmilda had managed to sit up, one hand pressed to her ribs. "Is he... dead?"

"Unconscious. Broken wrist. Lacerations. Minor cranial trauma." Elara rattled off the injuries like a medical report. "But alive. We need a physician who specializes in magical comas. Someone who can keep him in controlled suspended state while preventing any possibility of recovery or escape."

"I know someone," Parmilda said through gritted teeth. "Royal physician. Loyal to me, not him. She can induce a coma that’ll last years if necessary."

"Excellent. Summon her immediately." Elara looked at her administrators who’d been watching from the doorway. "Dimitri, Mira—secure all artifacts in this room. Everything magical gets catalogued and locked down. Gregor—bring medical supplies for First Consort. She has probable fractured ribs."

They moved instantly, well-trained and efficient.

Eleana finally lowered her sword, the adrenaline draining away and leaving her shaking. "We did it. We actually... we stopped him."

"Yes. Tactical victory achieved." Elara glanced at her. "Are you injured?"

"Bruised. Exhausted. Emotionally destroyed." Eleana laughed weakly. "But physically intact."