For a long, suffocating silence, the Jade Empress lay motionless, her mind a turbulent sea of fractured thoughts.

Anohara’s words hung in the cool, enchanted air of the pavilion like a physical weight.

Something more valuable than my territory? The phrase echoed in the hollows of her chest, sparking a frantic, internal dialogue.

‘Is he talking about me? My body? My soul?’ she wondered, her breath coming in shallow hitches. ‘Does he intend to keep me as a trophy, a living testament to his triumph over the Jade Empire? Or is there some dark, esoteric ritual that requires the essence of a fallen Empress?’

The territory she had spent years cultivating, the hundred thousand worlds, the emerald trade routes, the trillions of loyal subjects, had been her pride, her very identity.

To hear it dismissed as secondary to some private interest was a blow to her ego that stung more than any physical pain. Finally, summoning the tattered remnants of her courage, she forced the question past her lips.

“What could possibly be more valuable than my territory? I rule the entire jade empire. I control the flow of magical essence across a dozen galaxies. What do you want, Anohara?”

Anohara let out a light, melodic chuckle that lacked any hint of the sinister edge she expected. It was the sound of a scholar discussing a fascinating discovery.

“That is a private matter, strictly speaking,” he said, leaning back in his high-backed chair and crossing one leg over the other. “But oh well. Since you aren’t going anywhere until I get it done, there is no point in maintaining the shroud. You deserve to know the price of your hubris.”

The Jade Empress caught the phrase ‘not going anywhere until he gets it done.’ A flicker of desperate hope ignited in her green eyes. ‘Until he gets it done? Does that mean there is a timeline? A finish line? Does he intend to release me once his goal is achieved, or is done merely a euphemism for my end?’

“The thing that is more valuable than your territory,” Anohara said, his voice dropping into a tone of chillingly casual appraisal, “are your eyes.”

He didn’t blink as he said it. His gaze remained locked onto hers with a clinical intensity.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. For a delirious, terrified second, her mind veered toward the romantic.

‘Is this a confession? Is he so captivated by my beauty that he has lost his reason?’ But the cold, analytical light in Anohara’s eyes quickly dispelled that delusion. This wasn’t the gaze of a lover; it was the gaze of a collector.

“Confusion suits you better than arrogance” Anohara said, noticing her silence. “What I mean is that your talent is more valuable than your territory. My singular goal in this life, the one I mentioned to my maids, is to forge a pair of eyes that surpass any other ocular talent in existence. I seek the Perfect Vision, the sight that can peer through the layers of the Void and the Real alike.”

As he spoke, Anohara’s aura began to pulse with a low, golden heat. The temperature in the room rose by several degrees, the air shimmering with the intensity of his ambition.

“Will you take them?” She whispered, her voice trembling. “Will you pluck them from my skull? Do you intend for me to spend the rest of this life in darkness, waiting for death just to see again through a respawn?”

Anohara sighed, a look of mild disappointment crossing his features.

“Empress Esmira… I think you take me for a common brute. If surgery was my intent, I would have finished this hours ago while you were unconscious. No, I am an architect, not a butcher. I intend to fuse your talent with mine.”

He leaned forward, his face inches from hers. “I have been fusing with other talents for a long time. Currently, my eyes have already successfully assimilated eight distinct S-Grade and SS-Grade talents.”

“I plan to continue this harvest until I achieve the Ultimate Eye, containing every visual law across the multiverse and even the forbidden truths beyond it. Your Jade Gaze of Bewitchment is a necessary component for the ninth layer.”

“Fusion?” Esmira gasped, her mind reeling at the impossibility of his words.

“That is… that is a myth. The only known way to fuse talents is through the Cauldron of the First Spark in the City of Gods, a specialized artifact guarded by the Gods. And even then, the success rate is abysmal. If the compatibility fails, both talents are incinerated. You would risk your own sight on such a gamble?”

She knew the risks. She had consulted with a Demigod from her own empire who had described the artifact in hushed, fearful tones.

To protect one’s talent during such a process, one had to surrender their talent to Demigod Mire for safekeeping, a price that many paid without any care.

“The City of Gods has its own ways,” Anohara said dismissively. “And I have my own way of fusing the talents.”

“And my name?” she asked, her voice cracking. “How do you know my true name? Even my ministers refer to me only as the Empress.”

“My eyes see the Description of any mortal,” Anohara answered, his tone bored. “Names are merely labels written on the soul. Yours is quite prominent. Now, shall we discuss the state of your empire? Or would you prefer to keep wallowing in your indignation?”

“How is the situation outside?” Esmira asked, her tone shifting to one of sharp irritation. “I can’t even access my system interface. It’s like you’ve severed my connection to the world.”

“Oh? You wish to check on your masterpiece?” Anohara laughed, a dry, hollow sound. “The campaign of misinformation you so carefully crafted against me and my family?”

Esmira felt a hot flush of shame. Sitting here, imprisoned and powerless, in front of the very man she had tried to paint as a bloodthirsty tyrant made her feel like a petulant child. The mastermind was now a bird in a gilded cage.

“Your campaign has… evolved,” Anohara said. He reached into the air and slid a shimmering system panel toward her. With a flick of his wrist, he disabled his privacy filters, allowing her to see the global news forum through his system. “You can see for yourself how the Truth you created is faring in your absence.”

Esmira looked at the panel, expecting to see the thousands of fabricated posts about Imperial corruption and Anohara’s supposed cruelty. Instead, her heart sank as she read the trending headlines:

[THE EMPRESS’S SECRET MARRIAGE: Did the Jade Empress cut her livestream to answer a call from her hidden fiancé?]

[THE FLARE OF AN OLD WOUND: Healers suggest the Empress collapsed during the broadcast due to lingering injuries from her encounter with a Demigod Demon.]

[THE ROYAL HEIR: Rumors spread that the Jade Empress is secretly pregnant; the Emergency stop of the livestream was due to a sudden medical complication. It’s a boy!]

Anohara scrolled slowly, letting each headline burn into her retinas. The narrative Esmira had built, the image of the fierce revolutionary fighting a tyrant, was being replaced by a soap opera of domestic gossip.

Suddenly, one title caught her eye. It was simple, stark, and terrifying: [OUR EMPRESS IS CONFINED.]

Esmira’s heart leaped. ‘Finally,’ she thought. ‘Someone found the trail. Someone knows he took me.’ She frantically tried to gesture for Anohara to open the post, and he complied with a mocking smile.

[EMPRESS CONFINED BY HER OWN PARENTS: Sources claim the Empress’s elderly parents have locked her in the Royal Ancestral Hall for speaking out against King Anohara. Fearing retaliation, they are forcing her to abdicate in favor of her brother.]

Esmira’s spirit broke. “You… you’ve rewritten everything,” she whispered. “You think anyone will ever connect the dots? That anyone will realize I am being held here by you?”

“Why would they?” Anohara chuckled, leaning back. “In their eyes, I am a thing of the past. I haven’t even issued a formal protest against your live stream. I am merely waiting for your recovery, or pregnancy…. whatever you prefer.”

“How did you do it?” Esmira hissed, her green eyes shimmering with a mix of hatred and awe.

“My palace is a fortress. I have thousands of S-Grade mages and warriors standing guard at every door. My room is wreathed in anti-spatial magic. To infiltrate and kidnap me in the middle of a live broadcast without a single alarm being raised… it’s impossible. Unless you have bought my entire High Council.”

“I do have spies,” Anohara admitted. “They are the eyes and ears of my empire. But no, Esmira. No spy could have walked past your personal wards or carried you through a hundred thousand worlds without detection. As for how it was done… read the official statement from your own government.”

He opened a new window, pinned with the seal of the Jade Empire.

[OFFICIAL DECREE FROM THE OFFICE OF THE HEAD MINISTER: Mr. Embian announces that Her Imperial Majesty has entered a state of Deep Meditative Breakthrough. She has felt the threshold of the Demigod Realm and will remain in closed-door cultivation for the next 500 years. All state matters are transferred to the High Council.]

“Embian?” Esmira’s heart hammered against her ribs. The sense of betrayal was a physical coldness in her blood. “Why? Is he your puppet? Official news cannot be faked on that channel… that is the core authority of the Jade Empire!”

“He isn’t my spy, Esmira,” Anohara said, his eyes glowing with a terrifying amusement. “He is your loyal servant. He issued that decree because you told him to.”

“I never….I would never…”

“You were under my Mind Control at the time,” Anohara interrupted, his voice calm and unsettling. “After that I cut the live stream, and then I spoke through you. You looked Embian in the eye, gave him the order for the 500-year seclusion, and then sneaked away from your empire. You were a very cooperative guest.”

The reality of the situation shattered Esmira’s last remaining defenses. She had walked right into the trap, her own mouth delivering the words that would erase her from history.

“So… you controlled me during my own broadcast?” she whispered, shaking her head. “Our worlds are billions of light-years apart…. it should be impossible.”

“Distance is just another concept,” Anohara said, standing up. “My eyes can reach any place they can see. And at that moment, through the live stream, I was looking directly at you. Controlling the mind of a mortal through a digital link was, quite frankly, a piece of cake.”

He looked down at her, the golden light of the pavilion reflecting in his pupils. “You thought you were a weaver of shadows, Esmira. But you forgot that shadows only exist because there is a light to cast them. And in this world… I am the sun.”

Esmira lay back against the silk pillows, her mind finally going quiet. She was no longer an empress. she was a component. A resource.

And as she looked at Anohara’s retreating figure, she realized with a jolt of primal terror that she wasn’t just afraid of him. She was fascinated by his sheer, overwhelming power.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep