Chapter 377: Taste My Persuasion Arts (With a Stick in Hand)

Clap.

Without any warning, a flawless, silver-white, exquisitely crafted gauntlet landed on Fu Hua’s shoulder.

Her body instinctively attempted to break free, but no matter how much strength she exerted, she couldn’t move an inch.

There was no warning. Her Honkai energy was completely suppressed. Could this be the power of the Herrscher of Binding?

Fu Hua’s body stiffened, her movements freezing entirely. Slowly, with great difficulty, she turned her head. Following the line of the arm resting on her shoulder, her gaze led to a spatial tear behind her.

The power of the Herrscher of the Void?

“Correct. The power of the Herrscher of the Void.”

The voice, dripping with interest, seemed to read her thoughts. From within the pulsating, purple-red glow of the dark cavity came the continuation of the voice, light yet commanding.

Through the tear, an otherworldly landscape unfurled. Twisted crystalline structures resembling monstrous constructs stood tall in the void. Dense and oppressive imaginary energy, in lines and particle states, filled the space, like countless glimmering, sinister eyes glaring outward.

Silent. Deadly silent. Lifeless, except for—

Drip…

Selene’s silver-white hair cascaded down her back like a silken waterfall, as smooth as the finest satin. Her crimson eyes, both clear and profound, gleamed with golden, diamond-shaped irises as though they were works of art.

Her abundant vitality sharply contrasted with the desolation and void of the imaginary space behind her. She was like a radiant rainbow piercing through the darkness.

Her poised figure bore a face so perfect and symmetrical it could be mistaken for a crafted doll. It bore an uncanny resemblance to the late S-Rank Valkyrie of Schicksal, Cecilia.

This was Fu Hua’s first impression upon seeing her.

However, a person’s appearance reflects their heart.

With her mastery of Taixuan Sword Art, Fu Hua had a keen eye for reading people, a skill born from her profound understanding of this advanced martial art.

Taixuan Sword Art was Fu Hua’s signature technique, comprising the five essences of Heart, Form, Intent, Soul, and Spirit. It was an art honed to a razor’s edge, tailored for the channeling of internal energy.

Among these, Heart and Intent formed the core internal principles, while Form and Soul were the external sword techniques. Despite its name, mastering the fifth essence, Spirit, was necessary to fully unleash the true power of Taixuan Sword Art.

Its complete mastery not only elevated one’s strength to unparalleled heights but also subtly refined one’s mind, willpower, and presence.

“She is not Cecilia. And she is not like Cecilia either.”

This was Fu Hua’s deeper judgment after a mere few seconds of observation.

While Selene carried an approachable, amicable facade, the frostiness, dominance, and veiled brutality in her demeanor were unmistakable. They refused to be masked or dissolved.

Even if her appearance bore a striking resemblance to Cecilia’s, and even if Selene herself made deliberate efforts to mimic Cecilia’s warmth to project a kind, benevolent image, they were fundamentally different.

One acted with ulterior motives, driven by pragmatism. The other was genuinely kind-hearted.

Cecilia herself—Fu Hua had not only met her but fought alongside her. The Valkyrie’s gentle, warm demeanor had left an indelible impression.

But standing before this larger-than-life “Cecilia,” Fu Hua felt none of that soothing warmth. Instead, her muscles were taut, and her Heart, Form, Intent, Soul, and Spirit essences were instinctively heightened to their peak, ready for battle at any moment.

The palpable imaginary energy that surrounded Selene wasn’t just submissively orbiting her—it seemed to bow in reverence, fearful of her overwhelming presence.

Fu Hua knew: this wasn’t radiant light breaking through the darkness.

This was an existence darker than shadow, more horrifying than death, and far beyond the fear conjured by mere words.

The chilling, despairing aura emanating from Selene was the embodiment of what Fu Hua could only call the End itself.

Drip…

Selene’s heels clicked against the solid metal deck. She breathed in the fresh oxygen, felt the perfect humidity and temperature, and surveyed her surroundings with a look of interest.

The soft, muffled whispers of nearby Valkyries reached her ears. With her extraordinary hearing, Selene caught every word with ease.

“Schicksal’s renowned floating islands… Otto always did have impeccable taste.”

As the central island among the nine comprising Schicksal’s headquarters, Midgard boasted well-maintained natural landscapes—lush forests, chirping birds, and blooming flowers.

Being constructed high in the skies, the massive energy shields partially enveloping the artificial island served dual purposes: they not only protected against attacks but also retained oxygen, allowing the island’s environmental systems to sustain a livable habitat.

Even experimental hubs like Helheim or industrial R&D centers like Jotunheim—both densely packed with futuristic structures—had a surprising amount of green space.

For Selene, who had grown accustomed to the imposing imperial palace-style floating islands of her capital, this was a refreshingly unique experience.

Looking up, the weather was splendid. The sunrise—well, one had to ignore the menacing war behemoths in the sky—painted the heavens with resplendent and radiant hues.

“What do you think… Fu Hua, twelfth of the Thirteen Flame-Chasers, [Vicissitude]?” Selene’s tone carried a playful curiosity, yet her voice brooked no dissent.

“…” Fu Hua froze, her expression slightly strained. After a long sigh, she offered a wry smile, nodding as she admitted, “It seems nothing escapes you, Your Majesty Selene.”

By now, nearly ten seconds had passed since Selene’s emergence from the void. Leaning casually against a railing in the island’s greenery, she stood within arm’s reach of Fu Hua. Nearby imperial soldiers, previously relaxed, finally snapped to attention, rubbing their eyes in disbelief.

Since Selene’s command to Alex had not mentioned her arrival, the floating islands of Schicksal served as an informal rear-line rest zone for the Empire’s forces.

Alex’s strategy emphasized external vigilance but internal relaxation. On Midgard, the central hub, numerous Valkyrie units were being registered and integrated.

As a result, the Imperial Astartes, auxiliary forces, and conscripts stationed here adopted a more approachable demeanor, refraining from overt aggression or intimidation.

Except, of course, for the Empire’s Inquisitors, who continued their grim work of purging and executing collaborators. The rest of the military personnel behaved quite amicably.

That said, if an emergency arose, the entire garrison could switch to combat readiness in under three seconds. Resting didn’t mean disarmament; their power armor and weapons remained within arm’s reach.

Thud!

A conscript nearest to Selene instinctively dropped to his knees, bowing until his forehead touched the ground. His trembling voice reverberated as he cried, “Your Majesty!”

This exclamation sent ripples through the relaxed atmosphere, jolting everyone from their reverie.

“Ahhhh—!”

A few Astartes warriors perched on tanks, casually chatting and clinking glasses, froze in shock. One startled slip nearly sent them tumbling off their perch.

Startled, one warrior accidentally crushed his glass, shards scattering as they hastily donned their helmets, leapt from their vehicles, and prepared to salute.

“Your Majesty!”

Selene’s stealthy arrival had caught even the ever-alert Astartes off guard.

Without turning, Selene waved a dismissive hand, her voice resonating directly in the minds of the soldiers, saying: “No need for formalities. As you were. Carry on with your duties.”

Meanwhile, Alex and the other Astartes commanders, gathered around a holographic command table, heard the commotion. Preparing to rise, they paused upon receiving Selene’s directive, exchanged glances, shrugged, and resumed their work.

Despite the Empress’s reassurance, the floating island’s atmosphere grew palpably heavier. Although Selene had dismissed them, the soldiers couldn’t fully relax with their supreme commander present.

Many soldiers immediately formed disciplined lines, standing rigidly at attention.

Any noise or casual behavior now would be seen as reckless—even suicidal. This wasn’t mere nervousness; it was sheer dread of drawing unnecessary attention.

“Master Fu Hua, what’s happening here? And… is that truly Kiana’s sister?”

The astonished voice nearby was clear and crisp, its tone as lively as it was sincere.

“And you are…?”

“Heh, my name’s Li Sushang!”

The speaker, her twin ponytails swaying as she leaned on the railing beside Fu Hua, grinned mischievously.

Li Sushang clasped her hands together, propping her face up as she leaned closer to Selene. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she asked, “Hey, are you really Kiana’s sister? You feel more like her mo—”

Before she could finish, Selene, her expression subtly shifting to one of faint amusement, released Fu Hua’s shoulder and swiftly grabbed Li Sushang’s cheeks. Smiling sweetly, her voice rang out in an unsettlingly gentle tone: “Oh my, what an adorable child.”

“Mmfff—! Pain! Pain!”

As Li Sushang’s muffled cries filled the air, Selene pulled her closer, now using both hands to grip her face.

Seeing Fu Hua watching silently from the side, Selene smirked and quipped, “Is this your kid? Doesn’t seem like it—she looks more like your ancestor.”

Fu Hua’s expression darkened instantly, especially when she noticed Selene’s gaze briefly drop to a particular three-inch region below her collarbone.

Despite her irritation, Fu Hua chose silence. After all, her physique couldn’t be changed.

After thoroughly ruffling Li Sushang, Selene called over to Kiana with a playful tone: “Catch.”

And with that, she tossed the confused and dazed Li Sushang toward Kiana like a doll.

“Now then,” Selene said as she waved cheerily to Kiana, who stood with Theresa and Raiden Mei, “let’s talk about something serious.”

“Alright.” Fu Hua nodded curtly, her words sparse but her tone cooperative.

The two walked toward the edge of the floating island of Midgard. The soft sound of the ocean waves mingled with the steady hum of the island’s engines.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Selene asked abruptly.

Below them stretched the Mediterranean Sea, its azure waves rippling as seagulls soared above, occasionally skimming the water’s surface to create trails of white foam. In the gentle sunlight, the sea shimmered like a boundless field of diamonds.

“Mm,” Fu Hua responded with another short nod.

Selene studied her for a moment, then spoke softly but firmly: “If you don’t want it all destroyed, you’d best cooperate.”

“…” Fu Hua hesitated briefly, then finally replied in a low voice, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Selene said, her smile vanishing as she adopted a colder tone. “Let me be direct. If you can prove your worth, it will benefit this world, Schicksal, and the people here. Of course, you’re free to disbelieve me.”

“The world? This world?” Fu Hua latched onto the key phrase, her brows furrowing.

Selene didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she dropped the pretense of warmth, her voice as sharp and unyielding as tempered steel:

“This doesn’t include you. For Kiana’s sake, you’re one of us. But as for the remnants of the Thirteen Flame-Chasers—those ’insects’—tell me how many are still alive and where they’re hiding. Let’s cross-reference with the intel we extracted from Aponia.”

“…” Fu Hua lowered her head, staying silent.

Selene scoffed lightly. “The era of the previous civilization is over. This civilization’s fate should be decided by its own people, not by the corpses of those who died 50,000 years ago.”

“And unfortunately for you, Schicksal has already surrendered. Anti-Entropy will follow soon enough. This era’s humanity has chosen to submit to me.”

“I know how much you value your promises, but let me remind you: Kevin Kaslana tried to kill you. If not for Kiana, you’d already be dead. Your life belongs to her now—not to the Flame-Chasers. You have no ties to those remnants.”

Selene knew that Fu Hua was someone who often lacked decisiveness, frequently entrusting critical decisions to others she deemed wiser.

So, whether it was twisting facts or leveraging emotional manipulation, Selene pushed relentlessly. Using her acquired mastery of Aponia’s [Discipline], she subtly probed and distorted Fu Hua’s boundaries.

“I forbid you from taking your own life, injuring yourself, or starving yourself. If you try, I will raze the Far East to the ground. And when that happens, the bloodshed will be on your hands,” Selene declared with a mocking edge. “From the noble Phoenix who protected humanity to the sinner who doomed the world—how’s that for a legacy?”

Selene began to pace around Fu Hua like a predator circling its prey.

Good people are always easier to manipulate than those without scruples.

If a good person commits even a minor mistake, they are met with scorn and condemnation. But for the wicked, even a symbolic act of repentance is celebrated as redemption.

Selene understood this hypocrisy all too well.

She even found it amusing how, in her empire, a minor act of clemency—like commuting a hanging to a beheading—would be trumpeted by the propaganda department as proof of her benevolence. The fanfare painted her as a merciful saint, practically begging for deification.

Selene stopped pacing and stood face-to-face with Fu Hua, her gaze steady and unyielding.

“Stop it…”

Fu Hua raised her hand to cover her face, her shoulders trembling. She was well aware of Selene’s manipulative ploys. Yet, she had no choice. If she resisted and provoked Selene’s ire, it wouldn’t just be her life at stake but countless others as well.

She could not bear the weight of such guilt.

“And besides, Fu Hua,” Selene said, ceasing her pacing to fix her gaze on Fu Hua, “you wouldn’t want Kiana to be mistreated in the Empire, would you?”

Fu Hua flinched, her expression darkening.

“So, tell me,” Selene pressed, stepping closer and locking eyes with her. “What is your answer?”

Fu Hua’s hands clenched into trembling fists. Her expression alternated between anger, despair, and resignation. She was silent for what felt like an eternity, her inner turmoil palpable. Finally, her lips parted, and through gritted teeth, she forced out a single word:

“Fine.”

As she spoke, her shoulders sagged, and her once indomitable presence wilted, her spirit seemingly crushed.

“A wise decision,” Selene declared, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk. “Billions of lives will endure because of you. And I will ensure they know whom to thank. You…”

Her crimson eyes bore into Fu Hua’s weary gaze. “You will be their hero.”

“Hero?” Fu Hua echoed bitterly, a self-deprecating laugh escaping her lips. “A hero who caves under threat? A puppet at your whim? What kind of hero is that?”

Selene’s smile widened. “That depends on how you see it. To me, you’re a pawn. But to the people, you’ll be a savior. You will carry their hopes into battle. Their fate will be tied to yours.”

With a snap of her fingers, Selene conjured two crystalline goblets and a bottle of fine wine from the void. She filled both glasses herself, handing one to Fu Hua.

“Rarely do I indulge,” Selene remarked, “but this occasion warrants it. Your allegiance deserves a toast.”

Fu Hua’s brow twitched. This theatrical display brought to mind the arrogance of the Second Herrscher, Sirin, whose mastery of spatial manipulation mirrored Selene’s own—but where Sirin had been reckless and overconfident, Selene’s demeanor radiated calculated menace.

“Do I even have a choice?” Fu Hua muttered, raising the goblet to her lips. “I hope you honor your word.”

Clink.

Their glasses met, and Fu Hua downed her wine in one go, refusing to feign reluctance now that her choice was made.

Selene mirrored her gesture, drinking without pretense. Setting her goblet down, she addressed Fu Hua directly:

“As of now, I can confirm the deaths of Dr. Mei, Kevin Kaslana, Aponia, Eden, Elysia, and Sakura.”

Selene began listing the fates of the Flame-Chasers, her tone clinical.

“Dr. Mei succumbed to years of overwork, Honkai energy corruption, and overuse of the Key of Blankness. She died shortly after the war against the Herrscher of Finality.”

“Kevin and Aponia? Killed by me personally.”

“The Second, Elysia [Ego], chose to become the Thirteenth Herrscher during the twelfth major Honkai Eruption, sacrificing herself to unite the surviving Flame-Chasers against Finality. Kevin was the one who ended her life.”

“Eden [Gold], though she survived the war, chose not to enter stasis. Instead, she wandered the desolation left behind, giving one final performance for her era before taking her own life.”

“Sakura [Moment¹]… died even before the final battle, a tragedy indirectly caused by Aponia’s [Discipline].”

Selene’s voice softened momentarily, her crimson eyes glinting as she recounted the story.

“Awakening as the Twelfth Herrscher, her sister Rin was consumed by hatred and slaughtered by soldiers manipulated by Aponia’s powers. This tragic event transformed her into the Herrscher of Corruption, an autonomous, self-aware virus. Sakura, meanwhile, perished while searching for her already-lost sister.”

Selene conjured a translucent projection—a hauntingly serene image of Rin’s transformation and Sakura’s lifeless form.

“And the others?” Selene turned her gaze back to Fu Hua, her tone deceptively soft. “Let’s cross-check my knowledge with yours. Speak.”

Her smile was gentle, but her words carried an undertone of cold command.

Fu Hua hesitated, unsure whether Selene’s inquiry was genuine or merely another test.

Her silence stretched on.

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