Volume 3

Chapter 25 : Sun and Sun

Anselm and Marina stood at the edge of the streets in the lower district of Strife Fortress.

Beyond lay the bottom of the mine pit—so deep it could not be seen through—where sewage and garbage had accumulated.

The commission had been completed smoothly.

Anselm did not care whether the boy wanted to return or not; he simply knocked him unconscious and brought him back to Strife Fortress, back to this place he would rather become someone else’s plaything than return to.

The young Hydra looked at Marina, who stood there blankly staring into the depths of the mine pit, as if gazing into an endless abyss, and spoke softly: “You still have many things you don’t understand, Ganlei.”

The absurdity Marina had glimpsed in this small slice of the world was merely one corner of it.

The structure of society was incomparably complex.

To determine the full picture of the entire world based on a single event and a handful of people was obviously unreasonable—not every mortal was that boy from this commission, nor was every transcendent an evil person ruling Strife Fortress.

The girl naturally knew this, yet she could not maintain any optimistic mindset.

Because no matter what the outward appearance was, the fundamental difference between the transcendent and the ordinary would never change or waver.

That was the ultimate injustice, towering above social contradictions, above all struggle, oppression, and darkness.

And the social phenomena that evolved upon that injustice were another matter entirely—vast and complex, like the underground root system of a towering giant tree, intertwined and difficult to unravel.

Trying to see the true nature of things from the events of just these few days was clearly too naïve.

Anselm had never expected Marina to be able to sort out her thoughts at this moment.

“Mr. Anselm.”

Marina’s voice remained very soft, tinged with a dazed quality.

She even forgot to address Anselm as Faust—or perhaps it was that, at this moment, she truly needed help and something to rely on.

Anselm did not do anything extra. He merely responded lightly and waited for Marina’s answer.

How could the young Hydra fail to perceive Marina’s state and feelings?

As early as in Chishuang Territory, for the purpose of taming Hitana, Anselm had conveniently trained Marina to the point of unwavering devotion.

At that time, he had not placed particularly high expectations on this girl.

But as time passed, Marina gradually revealed the shadow of that Lady Violet.

Her exacting demands of herself and her relentless pursuit of self-improvement caused Anselm to revise his view somewhat.

More importantly, throughout that process, her reliance on Anselm had scarcely deepened—something exceedingly rare.

He had once believed Marina would be able to maintain herself well, but as time went on… she still seemed to be sliding little by little toward an abyss from which there was no return, and that was not something Anselm wished to see.

Books were not things that could be understood simply by reading them.

Knowledge was not something that could be comprehended merely by acquiring it.

Even though Anselm had spent an extremely long time screening and recording precious knowledge from that world, that did not mean his subordinates were people who could fully integrate and apply it.

In this era, which by comparison was undeniably “backward,” finding geniuses capable of understanding, analyzing, and turning that knowledge into their own was no easier than turning ordinary people into transcendent beings.

Marina possessed that talent and ability. Anselm did not wish for her to fall into that most worthless state.

Looking back now… it was likely still because of Hitana.

Marina’s closeness to him had clearly exceeded a normal superior–subordinate relationship, and her growing reliance on him had been unavoidable.

It could not be called regret, but Anselm did feel a degree of regret—his actions toward Marina back then had been somewhat too heavy-handed.

Had he left some room, she would probably be more focused on self-improvement now.

Because she received only a calm response, Marina remained silent for a very long time.

She withdrew her gaze from the pitch-black depths of the mine shaft and let it fall upon Anselm’s profile.

“Mr. Anselm, what can I do for you?”

Once, the boy who had grown up under Elnilisa and Flamel Hydra’s gentleness and expectations had carried a fantasy of changing the Empire.

He possessed knowledge from another world—a world more advanced in social systems and moral thought.

At that time, Anselm brimmed with confidence; he believed in his own ability and was filled with hope for the future.

Even after Elnilisa fell to fate’s extremely vicious schemes, Anselm still retained some thoughts of changing the Empire.

But with the rupture with Mingfuluo, and upon realizing that fate itself was anticipating the arrival of change, Anselm buried that dream completely.

Whatever his enemies sought to achieve—whatever it was—became something he was determined to stop.

Only when Mingfuluo wagered her life to break that inner obstruction did Anselm begin to gradually retrieve some… things he had long since discarded.

Marina realized this was a test Anselm was giving her, but at the same time she understood more clearly that Anselm wanted to make some kind of change.

In this chaotic world, atop this ultimate injustice, he wanted to make a change that should not be able to exist.

There was no doubt she was right—but—

But this should not have been her answer.

Anselm sighed softly in his heart.

It should not have been what can I do for you, but rather… what can be done for this.

Even so, Anselm did not choose to remind Marina again.

He had already given enough reminders.

If a smart person like Marina still had no reaction to this, then it was no longer a matter of understanding—it was willful sinking.

Willful sinking…

Could the cruel essence of this world still fail to stir, within her as a mortal and the greatest victim, even a trace of unwillingness?

Why was it that even at this moment—when facing this distortion and sickness head-on—when fear was so overwhelming, she was still thinking about what she could do for him?

Had she never possessed thoughts of her own?

What exactly was she pursuing?

With such thoughts, Anselm gazed at the girl’s haggard face. As a mortal, she had yet to escape that terror and dread.

Even in sorrow or despair, she continued to think of Anselm—of what strength she could offer him.

It was a loyalty that moved the heart.

Anselm acknowledged that loyalty, and even more hoped… that it would be nothing more than loyalty.

“What you can do for me…”

Anselm spoke softly, burying all his thoughts deep within. His sea-blue eyes remained filled with a depth Marina could not fathom.

Under Marina’s tense and expectant gaze, Anselm smiled. “Just do everything you can in all matters.”

Those somewhat vague words caused Marina to pause briefly, but she still nodded firmly and replied, “I will, Mr. Faust.”

So… was this Mr. Anselm’s purpose?

To rule the West Kingdom as an adventurer, and while searching for Ivora Flame, attempt to change the current state of the West Kingdom?

Marina also understood that not every place in the West Kingdom could be like Strife Fortress.

She was willing to believe that transcendent beings who selflessly gave for commoners truly existed—after all, the person closest to her was precisely such a naïve and foolish girl.

But the world’s evaluation of her had already reflected the truest reality.

Saving and giving for commoners… was naïve and foolish.

Changing the status quo between transcendent beings and ordinary people…

How exactly did Mr. Anselm intend to accomplish that?

Marina had formed a new line of thought. The cruel truth of the world made her uneasy and afraid, yet she calmed down quickly.

Because Anselm was by her side, filling her with faith and strength.

No matter how terrible the world was, Mr. Anselm… would still try to change it.

Change… Mr. Anselm had not been like this before.

Back in Chishuang Territory, Anselm had never hidden his cold methods from Marina, and had even proactively explained many things to her.

At that time, Marina had already sensed that Anselm was bearing something she could not understand—something extremely heavy.

She had long wanted to probe the ultimate purpose behind Anselm’s actions and plans, but the vast fog and flawless web were never something a small village girl could see through.

And Anselm himself, to Marina… was an even more mysterious and boundless ocean.

Even so, within the fog, Marina had sketched out fragments of Anselm’s true inner nature—he did not commit evil out of pure cruelty or malice, but under the pressure of something unknown.

Only now, that pressure seemed to have faded… or perhaps not faded. It might still be influencing Mr. Anselm, but he was no longer suppressing himself so tightly.

Thinking of this, Marina’s gaze lowered slightly as she followed Anselm.

Having also emerged from the savage snowy wilderness, Marina did not possess Hitana’s absolute notions of good and evil.

She was smarter than Hitana, and therefore more delicate and sensitive.

Even as a child, good and evil to Marina had been merely words without practical meaning.

Yet at her core, she still retained the same simple kindness as Hitana—it simply lacked the blazing intensity of her younger sister.

If Anselm was willing to do good, if he no longer forged evil deeds under that unknown pressure, then Marina would genuinely feel happy for it.

—If Marina were merely a somewhat clever girl, if she were simply a girl who admired Anselm, then it would have ended there.

But Marina was Marina precisely because… she did not feel happy.

She felt worried—she even felt afraid.

For someone who had long been accustomed to committing evil, who never hesitated over cruelty, whose will and heart were cold as steel…

Was such liberation and change truly a good thing?

Stepping out from a pitch-black, frigid ghostly realm would only result in being scorched and wounded by the blazing sun.

Marina could not find an answer, but regardless, she would find a way to lend Anselm her strength.

“Ganlei, if you separate from me for these few days, will it affect you?”

The adventurer walking ahead asked with a light laugh.

“It won’t, Mr. Faust,” the frail adventurer behind him replied softly. “I’m not so fragile that leaving you would leave me panicked and helpless.”

“Then that’s for the best.”

Mr. Anselm—whether you choose to become the sun, or continue forward within the shadows, I will follow your footsteps.

I will become your strength.

***

Within a void Maze Realm, endless starlight flickered.

When adventurers stepped through a gate, it was nothing more than passing from the main plane into other plane-worlds within the Zero Point Labyrinth. In that process, the greatest danger lay solely in “traversal.”

The passage connecting two worlds… was in fact the endless Zero Point Labyrinth itself.

To become lost within it was equivalent to falling outside the world.

Setting aside whether one could ever find a way back, this “world beyond the world” was not a place any transcendent could survive.

When Flamel Hydra brought Hitana and the others into the Zero Point Labyrinth, even Miss Wolf—who had already grown considerably—could not directly perceive the Maze Realm’s existence.

Only divine species could cross this boundless world of endless light.

And within the countless eternal stars, a point of light flickered—different from the rest.

It was a flame on the verge of collapse, like a candle in the wind, yet it had never truly gone out.

“Ephithand… you bitch-born… wretch…”

No one could hear the voice within that flame.

If hatred and rage could take form, that voice would have been enough to raise a furious tide within the Maze Realm, one that even endless starlight could not conceal.

Still enduring the torment of Blood-flame, nearly no longer human in form, a certain Grand Princess muttered madly and indistinctly:

“Why aren’t you dead yet… why… aren’t you dead!!!”

Ivora Flame had long forgotten how long she had drifted within the Zero Point Labyrinth, wandering through different planes.

Varying flows of time overlapped with the unending eternal burning, destroying her flesh and eroding her mind.

Yet Ivora Flame had not died. She did not want to die, and even more, she could not die.

“I am… the Empress.”

Relying on this obsession alone to preserve the final trace of consciousness, the Grand Princess whispered within the Blood-flame.

“I am the Empire’s only Empress. I am eternal and undying. I will conquer the entire continent… I will make Hydra, make the Dragon King, make the Callers of the Deep… make all those self-righteous pieces of trash kneel and kowtow before me!”

“Hydra… Anselm…”

Within the Blood-flame, her eyes flared with dazzling, frenzied crimson.

Whether Ephithand’s final counterattack had been within Anselm’s calculations was no longer something Ivora Flame had the capacity to consider.

More precisely, she lacked the strength to distinguish right from wrong.

—She had completely accepted one truth: her current miserable state was inseparable from Anselm. This was that devil’s ultimate, malicious scheme.

“You must… pay the price!”

She forced out the last remnants of her strength and tore open a gate leading to an unknown world.

A sun fueled by hatred and rage fell into it, disappearing toward an unknown destination.

Ivora Flame had repeated this act countless times.

She did not know what she would encounter, nor where she would arrive—but she never gave up.

Infinite ambition, infinite desire still awaited fulfillment. How could she perish here?

She was the Empress.

She was… a god.

***

Tl note- The author has used emperor and empress words regardless of their gender.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep