Volume 2

Chapter 64 : The Stage Fully Set

On the boundless azure ocean, Ivora, clad in a lavish flame-colored gown, stood with arms crossed, expressionlessly gazing below.

“The Lost Sea…”

She murmured softly: “Will you be the key to that damned old woman’s final struggle?”

The calm sea surface rippled, and beneath the clear blue water, eerie, massive shadows slowly swam, like a gaping maw from the abyss swallowing the pure, clear world, bringing only the deepest, darkest terror.

“Hah… cowering from the land after being burned, relying on parasites to siphon power—pathetic trash daring to threaten me?”

Her stunning face bore a savage smile, incongruous with her beauty, her words laced with a scorching heat that could burn all:

“Come.”

Ivora, one hand behind her back, pointed to the sky, disdainfully glaring at the shadows below.

The space above her twisted violently and at the edges of that distortion, the blood-flame of pure Flame-Feasting power burned fiercely, as if she had carved an unstable, independent space from the world itself with her fire!

Space was a vital aid to transcendents—teleportation arrays, indispensable storage spaces—its convenience universally acknowledged.

Due to the Empress’s pressure, transcendents avoided developing lethal spells or abilities, and functional elements like space were rarely studied for destructive purposes.

But that didn’t mean its destruction wasn’t terrifying.

The collapse of unstable space could be described in one word—annihilation.

The volatile Ivora was adept at crafting such a small bomb.

Warned by the Callers of the Deep, she retaliated without hesitation, dismissing them entirely.

She sneered, confronting the shadows beneath the sea, knowing the real beast lurked deeper, but even if it surfaced, she felt no fear.

Yet the massive shadows showed no retreat.

Ripples on the sea turned to waves and in clear skies without storm, the all-embracing ocean roared under the divine species’ command.

As a terrifying clash seemed imminent, Ivora’s brows lifted, her gaze turning west, toward the Imperial Capital.

“…What’s that mean? What’s my wretched sister planning now?”

Muttering to herself, her brows furrowed, then she glanced at the shadows below, scowling: “Lucky you, mongrel.”

"——No way."

The woman suddenly raised a brazen and ferocious smile, her wild laughter echoing as the massive, distorted space above her head was flung downward.

In an instant, her figure vanished from the ocean's surface.

An hour later, the three bustling port cities of Eastern Port, closest to the Lost Sea, were simultaneously ravaged by ferocious assaults from the sea clan.

The three grand dukes stationed at Eastern Port intervened together to suppress the attack, but the losses were still immense.

This, of course, was something the Grand Princess, who had returned to the Imperial Capital in a flash, would not know—or, even if she did, she wouldn’t care.

In the brightly lit grand hall, Ivora, who had instantly returned from the Lost Sea to her throne, propped her cheek with one hand and looked expressionlessly at the female attendant below.

"You just said, what does Sulun want to do?"

"She contacted Babel Tower and the Ether Academy, planning to trade for a… highly malleable data system from Babel Tower. The Ether Academy would then modify it, intending to apply it openly to the training of transcendents."

A spark of flame flared in Ivora’s eyes.

She first let out a low chuckle, then couldn’t help but burst into loud laughter.

"Heh heh heh… Hahaha! Sulun, Sulun, should I say you’re bold beyond measure, or utterly foolish?"

Ivora was locked in a struggle with Ephithand with the mindset of ruling the Empire.

Though, as time passed, she would inevitably care less and less about the Empire itself, for now, she genuinely desired to rule it in a "normal" way.

Loyal vassals, devoted nobles, adoring citizens, and a land ripe for conquest—every time she thought of these, Ivora’s blood would surge with excitement.

This was one of the greatest purposes of the Empire’s existence: to anchor the humanity of the Flame-Feasting Royalty with the irresistible allure of supreme power.

Of course, when it came to caring, Ivora didn’t truly care about the Empire’s citizens.

At this stage, the only thing she truly cared about was transcendents.

Naturally, in her conflict with Ephithand, she was constantly gathering transcendents who would obey her completely, expanding her influence and power base.

And Sulun’s actions… were undoubtedly an attempt to meddle in this domain.

Her attempt to snatch a piece of the pie brought Ivora more amusement than displeasure.

It was simply too laughable—like watching a three-year-old child waving a wooden sword in front of her, shouting about robbery.

But after the laughter, her expression gradually grew cold.

After all, that annoying little wretch had the backing of that old, undying thing. Who could say how far she might go?

And, more importantly… Sulun’s repeated provocations and offenses.

"Do you really think I’m afraid of that old thing?"

The searing breath escaping through her gritted teeth caused the hall’s temperature to spike instantly.

Ivora, her eyes faintly burning with flame, sneered, "It seems this time, I’ll have to make you feel real pain. Should I burn your face to ashes, or strip you bare and toss you into the plaza?"

As she mused, a harmlessly handsome face suddenly flashed in her mind.

[I don’t believe you don’t want to take revenge on your somewhat overstepping sister.]

"Anselm…"

The coldness on the woman’s face softened slightly, replaced by a thoughtful expression.

If it were him… he could not only make Sulun pay a price but also ensure that the old thing couldn’t find any leverage against her.

The cost, however, was that he would Uptake would be exploited—somewhere, somehow, without her even noticing…

"Hmph."

Ivora let out a soft hum, devoid of any harsh or cruel intent, instead carrying a hint of delight.

"Letting you taste a bit of sweetness now and then isn’t a bad idea… Use me as you will. Who knows, maybe I’ll even find your weakness in the process."

The thought instantly lifted Ivora’s spirits.

As for what Anselm’s plan was, how it would be executed, the likelihood of its success or what role she would play in it… Ivora didn’t consider or worry about such things at all.

Because the only male in this world she truly acknowledged would never disappoint her.

***

Back at Babel Tower, Mingfuluo confirmed with Anselm once more regarding the matters of the game.

"So, neither you nor I… will interfere or be responsible for managing this game’s operations?"

"Of course," Anselm said with a smile. "If Helen… ah, Mingfuluo now—if you, Mingfuluo, want to try handling the arrangements yourself, I wouldn’t mind."

"No, I won’t interfere… with something I have no ability to manage."

Mingfuluo replied calmly, "Managing and arranging a territory is far too distant for me."

Meddling in a field completely unknown to her would only bring disaster—Mingfuluo was well aware of this.

She knew nothing about how to maintain or operate a territory.

How could she be foolish enough to get involved?

Her concern was that Anselm might be trying to force the task of managing the territory onto her, which was why she asked.

She even found it strange that Anselm would think she’d want to interfere.

Was there really someone foolish enough to meddle in a completely unknown domain based solely on their own assumptions?

"Then… since the outcome will be judged based on the development of the two territories," Mingfuluo continued cautiously, "do I need to choose a side?"

Her cautious demeanor amused Anselm.

"We’re just playing a game, Miss Mingfuluo. Do I seem like someone who cares so much about winning or losing that I’d set rewards and punishments in advance?"

The young Hydra said leisurely, "Whether you choose a side or just watch their development, it doesn’t matter. The focus is on these two territories—what they’ll ultimately become. Victory or defeat is their matter."

No need to arrange or regulate, no need to take a stance, and no punishments involved…

Mingfuluo meticulously examined every detail of the game for any potential traps Anselm might have set.

She firmly believed he wouldn’t propose this game just for fun, much like how, in that "father-daughter game," he had delivered one shock after another in less than half a day.

At that thought, Mingfuluo immediately halted her thinking.

That nightmare, now lodged deep in her soul, could strike with its scythe at any moment, in any place—

[What exactly are you chasing?]

A bone-chilling cold spread from her soul to her body, causing her to tremble slightly as she forcibly suppressed the thought.

This game… Anselm might have hidden some other agenda, but from the rules, it posed no harm to the territories or their citizens.

The alchemical devices and items provided wouldn’t be plundered by transcendents, the autonomy remained with the civilians and she wasn’t forced to make arrangements or invest in either side…

No issues.

Mingfuluo let out a soft breath and nodded.

"Alright, I have no further questions, Fa—Anselm, sir."

With Anselm’s assurance, this could perhaps serve as a good pilot.

Mingfuluo’s rejection of Ronggor and the other Erlin students wasn’t about their actions but their motives. If their sole purpose was to research scattered alchemical tools, they were doomed to change nothing.

What the Empire needed was transformation—massive transformation.

Without such resolve, it was weak, it was…

[…all an illusion!]

"!"

Mingfuluo’s body swayed violently, nearly stumbling backward.

A trace of… fear appeared on her usually impassive, delicate face.

What was that just now?

That voice… Was it real?

Was it… Anselm’s voice?

In that fleeting moment, a shadowy image of that youthful face flashed before her eyes.

Though startled and unable to see clearly, the anger on that face… was unmistakable.

Was it… a memory?

"Mingfuluo, what’s wrong?"

A concerned voice sounded in her ear, pulling her temporarily from her chaotic thoughts.

The young Hydra raised an eyebrow. "You look like you’ve seen something terrifying. What… Did those missing memories of yours return?"

His tone was casual, as if it were of no concern to him.

"…A little."

Mingfuluo clutched her forehead, murmuring with a complex expression, "I saw you, looking angry."

"Oh, that must’ve been when we had our falling out."

Anselm’s tone remained nonchalant.

"Because that was the only time I was ever angry with you."

"…" Mingfuluo fell silent, unable to respond.

Anselm’s sacrifice, the lost truth… These made it difficult for her to harbor any outright hostility toward him.

"Now, about the aid for these two territories…"

Anselm didn’t press her further on the topic, instead saying, "What do you want to provide them? There should be plenty of those civilian-oriented alchemical devices at Babel Tower that never got off the ground, right?"

Mingfuluo recalled the words Anselm had spoken during their conversation.

Food, clothing, shelter, transportation…

She wanted to try transforming all of these with transcendent powers, but she also knew that the more elements involved, the more complex and uncontrollable the situation would become.

She never forgot that Anselm must have made thorough preparations for this game.

Even if that weren’t the case, throwing too many alchemical devices into these territories and causing unforeseen chaos would be a loss outweighing the gains.

If these territories collapsed due to her mistakes, especially because of the new alchemical devices meant to bring transformation… Mingfuluo couldn’t imagine what she would become.

So, she had to mitigate that risk. It was best to… introduce only one type of alchemical item for now, to ensure control and stability.

The petite scholar calmly pondered.

If it’s just one type, it should be what the civilians need most…

Indeed, it could only be food.

"Regarding the soil enhancement potion…" Mingfuluo responded, "I can ask Hendrik about it. If it’s nearly complete, I’d like to confirm its effects and then introduce it to those two territories."

"Just that?" Anselm smiled, seemingly unsurprised by her choice.

"Just that."

"Alright, then that’s settled."

Anselm nodded lightly, as if he had no further plans and was ready to leave.

"Let me know when you’re ready. I’m really looking forward to this game."

The smile on his face only deepened Mingfuluo’s unease.

What was Anselm thinking?

What was he planning?

What could he possibly gain from this game?

Ronggor, that man, and them…

At that thought, Mingfuluo’s heart trembled.

And that matter—what exactly happened between that man and her grandfather?

Why, why would he, in a victim’s tone, say such things?

Why, having stolen her grandfather’s achievements and gained wealth and status at the Ether Academy, had he fallen to such a state?

Anselm said… he would help me. Why hasn’t he brought it up again?

At the same time, she overlooked—or rather, chose to overlook—something that could connect the three shocks from the father-daughter game.

Could Anselm’s talk of [a hollow pursuit]… be related to her grandfather as well?

The weakness of people like Ronggor, Layden’s predicament, and her own confusion… all three were intricately tied to Erlin—or rather, Erlin’s death.

The answer…

She had to know the answer.

Having sided with Anselm and given up the chance to learn about Erlin’s death from Sulun, Mingfuluo’s desire to uncover the truth reignited, stronger than ever.

"…Anselm, sir."

Mingfuluo called out to him as he was about to leave.

She hesitated, then steeled herself and said in a low voice, "I previously… asked you about that man, and what happened with my grandfather."

"Hm? What about it?" Anselm tilted his head, looking at her with curiosity.

"I want to know… what price I’d have to pay for that."

Anselm studied her for a long moment before breaking into a delighted smile.

"We’ll talk about the price later, because it seems… you want more than that, don’t you?"

"…Yes."

Mingfuluo lowered her head, her cold, detached voice striving to sound humble.

"I want to know… the truth about my grandfather’s death."

The smile on the young Hydra’s face grew even wider.

"You once thought you couldn’t afford such a price, preferring to work with Sulun rather than come to me, didn’t you?"

"Now, have you changed your mind?"

"If it’s not the complete truth, but just clues for me to investigate, like Sulun offered?"

The humble Miss Doll lowered her gaze. "Would you… be willing to do that?"

"Sure," Anselm replied with a cheerful smile.

Mingfuluo froze, lifting her head to meet those mesmerizing, unfathomable sea-blue eyes.

He… just agreed?

In this matter, Anselm could have toyed with me, made things difficult, but why did he agree so easily?

"I can’t give you the clues right now because I haven’t looked into it yet. But…"

Anselm, who had taken a few steps away, suddenly turned back and approached Mingfuluo.

He reached out, gently stroking Miss Doll’s delicate cheek, his tone playful. "I can tell you the price first. You can decide if you’re willing to pay for it."

"…Please, tell me."

"When I call you Helen—"

Anselm leaned down, his face nearly touching hers, their warm breaths mingling.

"You must call me Father."

His teasing voice made Mingfuluo’s body stiffen slightly.

"Just…" Miss Doll hesitated, "Just that?"

"Helen."

"…Ah? I-I mean, Father."

Mingfuluo responded instinctively.

Each time she uttered those two words, a subtle, indescribable feeling welled up within her.

As if something had been stripped away… and something gained.

"Not a bad reaction." Anselm chuckled, patting Mingfuluo’s head.

"Good. Remember to pay this price at all times. The clues you want… I’ll give them to you soon enough."

"Dear Helen."

"Thank you… Father."

Mingfuluo, head bowed, felt a trace of daze.

Why?

Why, in this moment, did it feel like the only one she could rely on was this… "Father," born out of some perverse "amusement"?

***

As soon as Anselm stepped through the main door of Hydra Mansion, he saw Hitana rushing toward him warily, grabbing his arm.

"Anselm, Anselm," the girl fumed, "that woman took over your bedroom and kicked me out!"

"Ivora?" Anselm laughed, ruffling Hitana’s snow-white short hair.

"So? Did you fight her, or did you just leave?"

"I… I can’t beat her right now."

Hitana looked a bit sulky.

"It feels like she’d burn me to a crisp in one go. But… but I’ll definitely take her on one day!"

Miss Wolf raised her head confidently.

"I absolutely won’t let that woman lord over you, Anselm."

"I’ll look forward to that day, Hit." The young Hydra pinched Hitana’s cheek.

"Hehehe…"

Even after hearing that intimate nickname countless times since her birthday, Hitana still wriggled like a happy cat, giggling foolishly.

After a moment, she cleared her throat. "Well, I won’t disturb you then. You… you go talk to her."

"You could come along."

"Uh…"

Hitana seemed tempted but ultimately shook her head with difficulty.

"No, she came to you out of the blue, so it must be something important… I’m worried that if I hear it, it might not be good for you, Anselm. I’m off to train! Uncle Tyr is sparring with me today!"

To stop herself from following, Hitana shouted this and scampered off.

Anselm shook his head with a suppressed smile, heading toward his bedroom with a relaxed air.

As he pushed open the door, a massive expanse of snowy white blocked his view.

"Oh, you’re back?"

Ivora, wearing only a sheer nightgown, yawned.

"I just took a nap on your bed."

"Occupying someone else’s bedroom without permission isn’t a good habit, Your Highness."

"What, did your little pup go crying to you?"

The Grand Princess crossed her arms, accentuating her full, spindle-shaped curves, and smiled seductively.

"Did she tell you how upset she was because, when I suddenly appeared in your bedroom, I caught her holding your clothes—"

The tall woman pressed her index and middle fingers together, making a hooking gesture.

"The access Father granted you to the mansion wasn’t for spying on my privacy."

Anselm ignored the dazzling sight before him and walked toward the sofa.

"If Your Highness doesn’t rein it in, I might consider revoking that access."

"…Trying to put me in my place right off the bat?"

Ivora wasn’t angry, merely raising an eyebrow. "You know why I’m here, don’t you?"

"At this hour, what else could it be?"

Anselm poured himself a glass of wine with a warm smile.

"So, what’s your decision?"

"Hmph… Fighting that old thing does require your help, after all."

Ivora strode over to sit across from Anselm, grabbing the bottle and crossing her long, stunning legs to pour herself a glass.

"Sulun plans to use your little doll’s data system to create… heh, a training system for transcendents? Big ambitions, small brains."

"I have ten thousand ways to crush her delusions, but… after thinking it over, you’re the best fit for the job."

Swirling her glass, Ivora propped her cheek with one hand, looking at Anselm.

"So, how do you plan to handle this?"

"Handle it?" Anselm chuckled.

"Dear Princess Ivora, as you said, it’s simple. But first, I need to confirm—what exactly do you want?"

"I want that damned little wretch of a sister to understand the consequences of repeatedly crossing me," Ivora answered without hesitation.

"And it can’t give that old thing any leverage to make a fuss."

"In short," Anselm sipped the shimmering wine, "you want Sulun to suffer without giving Her Majesty any grounds to punish you."

Ivora’s eyes gleamed, her body leaning forward slightly.

"Exactly… That’s it. Got any ideas?"

"Mm, it’s simple."

"I knew you’d never disappoint me, Anselm."

The woman leaned forward, pursing her lips in a kissing motion, leaving a glistening mark on Anselm’s lips.

"So, what’s the price, and what do I need to do?"

Ivora licked her lips eagerly.

"If Sulun’s downfall is miserable enough, I don’t mind throwing in some extra rewards."

"Sulun wants to use the data system, but at the end of the day, that system is entirely in Mingfuluo’s hands."

Anselm said leisurely, "In this regard, Mingfuluo has a lot of control."

"You want Mingfuluo to sabotage Sulun?" Ivora looked slightly surprised.

"She doesn’t seem like the type to willingly do something like that."

"Even the smartest people have weaknesses," the devil smiled. "I told you, didn’t I?"

"…You mean her grandfather? But she refused before—"

"That was then."

Anselm said meaningfully, "Things are different now."

Ivora studied Anselm for a moment before letting out a humored laugh.

"I don’t know what you’ve done this time… but it seems she has no chance of escaping. Hmph, whatever. Whether you want to add a few more dolls or pups to your collection is your freedom. In the end, none of them can compare to me."

With utmost confidence, the Grand Princess downed her wine, her face flushed.

"So, do I find a chance to approach your little doll, or do something else?"

"No rush, Ivora."

The venomous snake flicked its tail.

"In due time, she and I… will play an interesting game."

Sulun, Ivora, Babel Tower, the Ether Academy, you, me—

The actors are in place, dear Mingfuluo.

The truth you seek, the vision you chase… I’ll give them to you, one by one.

But whether you can handle them—that’s up to you.