Chapter 233

 The flintlock pistol, engraved with gilded reliefs, was Margaret's hunting gun. Until this day, it had been used for one purpose alone: killing the prey.

Her concentration reached its absolute peak. Taking aim at her target, squeezing the trigger, the gunpowder igniting, the shot roaring from the barrel, and the cry of pain from the prey five meters away... Every step unfolded before Margaret's eyes with crystalline clarity, as slow and distinct as droplets of water falling onto stone.

Only when that figure crumpled with a muffled groan did Margaret feel as though she'd finally broken through the surface of the water. She drew in a ragged breath, only then realizing what she'd done.

It had all happened in the blink of an eye. Vincent hadn't even had the chance to question Margaret's betrayal before he collapsed, coughing up blood.

He slumped beside the stone altar, one hand still wrapped around the sword resting upon it, refusing to release it even as the blade carved deeper into his palm.

Ye Zheng stepped forward, drew a slender dagger, and drove its point toward the man's heart.

The young emperor's lips parted. The color had drained completely from his face. At last, he cast aside the carefully maintained façade of frailty, exposing the unmistakable signs of a body on the verge of collapse. Ye Zheng read the shape of his lips. Again and again, he was mouthing a single name: "Margaret."

An inexplicable surge of revulsion welled up within Ye Zheng. She pressed the dagger forward. Just as its tip touched Vincent's chest and a bloom of crimson spread across the fabric, her hand abruptly froze.

The dagger's point pierced the emperor's ornate ceremonial robes. At that very instant, she faintly caught the sound of something giving way with a soft, crystalline crack.

She met Vincent's gaze. Those dull golden eyes reminded her of the dead Sykes. The difference was that this time, staring into those golden irises brought her no relief whatsoever. Instead, her heart pounded with growing unease.

A thought struck Ye Zheng without warning. Her gaze dropped to the blood soaking through the man's chest and abdomen. At some point, unnoticed by anyone, the blood spilling from his wounds had turned gold!

Vincent seemed to notice it as well. He brushed a hand across the wound, lifted it before his eyes, and watched color flood back into his face. Then he threw back his head and laughed.

"The divine blood I didn't have time to retrieve, you've released for me with your own hands."

"Truly, I owe you my thanks, unknown little girl."

He spoke through clenched teeth as he braced himself against the stone altar and slowly rose to his feet. Slipping a hand into his robes, he withdrew a half-shattered glass vial. Nestled inside was a single crystalline droplet of golden liquid.

The divine blood, the sacrificial offering, and the divine sword. At last, all three had been brought together.

Ye Zheng stared at that all-too-familiar drop of golden divine blood. The light in her eyes dimmed in an instant. Regret surged through her trembling heart. She'd overlooked the divine blood. She should've secured both the divine blood and the divine sword before anything else...

No. The tip of her knife had happened to pierce the tiny glass vial, releasing the divine blood. Such an improbable coincidence felt far less like bad luck and far more like fate itself forcing events toward their inevitable conclusion.

“Ye Zheng!”

Margaret's urgent cry rang out from behind her.

Ye Zheng turned. Loose strands of hair fell across her vision.

Through that blurred veil, she saw a violent wind surge through the sealed cellar. One candle after another guttered out and shattered. Yet the underground chamber didn't descend into darkness. Instead, an incandescent white radiance blazed so fiercely it seemed on the verge of erupting!

Blinding white light engulfed Ye Zheng from every direction. She couldn't open her eyes, nor did she have a moment to think.

Acting on instinct alone, she spun around with her eyes tightly shut. The plain, unremarkable knife rose high once again before plunging down with merciless force!

“Aaaah—!”

A scream tore through the boundless sea of white light.

If her deduction was correct, Vincent himself probably hadn't known the exact ritual required to summon a god. He'd merely clumsily replicated the legend passed down from his ancestor. Moments earlier, in his unconscious actions, he'd offered his own blood to the divine blood and the divine sword, and through nothing more than sheer chance had established contact with something from another world.

There might still be a chance to sever that connection.

She struck again and again. The agonized screams never stopped. Though her eyes remained closed, Ye Zheng felt warm blood splatter across her face. Her hands never hesitated for even an instant. Every stab was utterly ruthless.

She had no idea how much time had passed before the young man's cries finally fell silent and the searing white light slowly began to recede.

Had she managed to stop it?

Her lashes quivered faintly as Ye Zheng slowly opened her eyes.

The young man pinned beneath her knife hovered on the brink of death, drenched in golden blood, like a deathly pale statue dusted with gold.

Ye Zheng brushed a hand against her damp cheek before lifting her head. In that instant, her pupils shrank to pinpoints.

Throughout the vast, shadowed cellar, countless enormous eyes floated in midair, every one of them fixed upon the tiny humans below with silent mockery.

Clang—

The small knife slipped powerless from her grasp and struck the floor. Ye Zheng's black eyes widened as she stared at those countless eyes from other worlds.

…No. They weren't eyes at all. They were more like windows into other worlds. Crowding each one were strange and impossible beings: black goats chanting in rhythmic syllables, bipedal rafflesia, humanoid creatures with grotesquely disordered faces, translucent ghosts...

They came from different worlds, yet in this moment every one of them gazed upon the same fragile world with perfect unity, radiating a greed and malice so overwhelming that it seemed capable of swallowing the entire space in the very next instant.

Ye Zheng hauled the dying man upright and, her face icy with fury, drove a punch into his face before demanding, “Vincent Aston, what exactly have you done?!”

Vincent's eyes were swollen nearly shut. Through the narrow slits of his eyelids, he stared at the countless eyes from other worlds. A fragile, terrified expression spread across his face as he frantically shook his head.

“I... I only... followed the method handed down by my ancestors... I don't know why it turned out like this...”

The young emperor was just as bewildered and helpless, trembling uncontrollably with fear. He could no longer feel the grievous wounds covering his body or the life steadily slipping away from him. He simply stared blankly at the malicious eyes suspended overhead, utterly lost.

What god? They were nothing more than otherworldly monsters gazing upon them with ravenous hunger!

Ye Zheng's fists tightened until her knuckles threatened to crack. What were they trying to do? She had no abilities now. She had no way to stop them...

Suddenly, Ye Zheng's gaze snapped toward a particular spot. Among the dense multitude of eyes, one pair met her own.

Within that floating eye from another world bloomed a crimson flower, its petals lush and radiant as though they had feasted on blood. It swayed gently, as if basking in quiet delight.

The Blood Flower.

The very Blood Flower that had once claimed the lives of her family.

“Ha…”

Ye Zheng let out a slow breath. A cold smile tugged at the corners of her lips. At last, she understood how the Aberrant Realms had come into being.

“Vincent Aston!”

Her furious cry cut through the air with icy fury. With a flick of her toe, she sent the small knife lying on the floor spinning back into the air. Catching it in one swift motion, she drove the blade straight toward the man's heart!

【Vincent Aston.】 

In his daze, the young emperor sprawled across the ground heard strange voices whispering beside his ear. Somehow, impossibly, he understood every word they spoke.

【Offer us your land, your people, your soul... and we will grant any wish you desire...】

The warmth drained steadily from his body. Beneath the watch of those countless eyes, Vincent felt a chill seep into his very bones.

A lifetime of humiliation and oppression. A life on the verge of ending. Margaret's betrayal. The countless gazes, so immense and dreadful that they left him unable to move. The more he thought, the stronger his resentment and unwillingness grew. His trembling hand reached out, desperately trying to grasp at a lifeline that simply didn't exist.

“I accept!”

The instant the blade pierced his heart, Vincent's eyes flew wide open as he sealed the pact.

High above, the countless eyes curved into smiles.

Ye Zheng let the knife slip from her hand. She staggered back two steps. Laughter in every pitch and register surged through the air, rattling her eardrums and smothering every coherent thought.

She'd failed. Vincent had sacrificed his entire nation to the countless worlds beyond.

Something snapped into place in her mind. She whirled around. At the far end of the cellar stood Margaret, her back to Ye Zheng as she faced an impossibly enormous eye. Within that eye dwelled a creature with the torso of a human and the body of a dragon.

As though she'd sensed Ye Zheng's gaze, Margaret turned. Her crimson hair fanned out around her. Her pale eyes met Ye Zheng's, carrying an emotion Ye Zheng couldn't name—something that resembled a smile, or perhaps the quiet resolve of someone who had finally reached their decision.