Chapter 237

Inside the Papal Palace.

“Wende, is there still any discomfort in your body?”

Ye Zheng set the documents in her hands aside and asked in a gentle voice.

Wende bowed respectfully before replying, “Thank you for Your Holiness's concern. I have fully recovered. Please feel free to entrust me with any task.”

Ye Zheng's eyes softened into a faint smile. “I don't have anything pressing at the moment, Wende. Was there something you wanted to ask me?”

A helpless look crossed Wende's face. The two of them knew each other far too well; neither could hide what was on their mind from the other. In the end, she could only speak frankly. “While I was recovering, it seems quite a few things have happened…”

“Mm. I had people blow up the Imperial Central Station.”

Ye Zheng delivered the statement as casually as if she were commenting on the weather.

With the Imperial Central Station reduced to ruins, transportation throughout the Upper District had been thrown into severe disarray. Only a small number of people could afford the costly high-speed trains that ran to the Lower District. For the most part, the station had served travel between the various regions of the Upper District, along with routes to the Middle District, which was, in essence, the Upper District's own backyard.

Coming so soon after the turmoil at the imperial palace, the destruction of the Imperial Central Station convinced people that disaster was closing in. Panic and unease spread rapidly, especially among the nobles of the Upper District. Every incident drove home the same merciless truth: the Upper District was no impregnable sanctuary.

Naturally, the bounty on the scapegoat Sela soared once again. Unfortunately, no matter how high the reward climbed, not a single brave soul dared step forward.

“But without the Imperial Central Station, getting to the Lower District will become much more difficult for you. Besides, both the headquarters of the Order of Sacred Conduct and your mother are permanently based in the Lower District.”

“The ordinary rail lines will be repaired and back in service soon enough. A two-day journey isn't much of an inconvenience.”

Ye Zheng answered with the slightest lift of her brows. It was a price that had to be paid, and one she didn't regret.

Wende nodded. She didn't ask why Ye Zheng had chosen to do it. As long as everything remained within Ye Zheng's control, that was enough.

Just as Wende was about to leave, Ye Zheng suddenly called her back and placed a peculiar bone into her hands.

“This is... a human spinal bone?”

Though the mild-mannered knight wasn't especially versed in medicine, the nature of her duties had made her well acquainted with human anatomy. She studied the bone with a puzzled frown before looking back at Ye Zheng.

“Wende, I need you to take this and help me find something.”

“What is it?”

“The burial sites of the Demonic Dragon's remains. I want to locate every dragon bone.”

The young Papess spoke with quiet composure, yet beneath her calm voice lay an unmistakable edge of cold determination. Even the knight, usually so steady and dependable, couldn't hide the shock that crossed her face. This time, she truly couldn't stop herself from asking, “What are you planning?”

Ye Zheng smiled. Her plans would shake the very foundations of the world. Wende had only just recovered from grievous injuries, so it was better not to frighten her any more than necessary.

“You'll know when the time comes.”

Wende found herself at a loss for words. She noticed Ye Zheng blink once in quick succession. Beneath that composed and rational exterior, a fleeting spark of mischief flashed across her face, an expression Wende knew all too well. It was the unmistakable sign that Her Holiness the Papess was about to stir up a little “mischief.”

Her instincts told her that this time, it would be anything but a little “mischief.”

“Very well.” Wende smiled, a hint of helplessness in her expression. “I'll look forward to the surprise you have in store for me.”

The moment Wende departed, the faint smile on Ye Zheng's face disappeared without a trace. She lowered her gaze to the sheet of paper resting on her desk. Untidy handwriting sprawled across the page, each scattered note bearing the marks of thoughts that had leapt from one conclusion to the next.

Ever since returning from five hundred years in the past, Ye Zheng had turned Aston XIV's motives over in her mind again and again. Although she'd uncovered most of the truth, several crucial pieces still lay hidden behind a veil of uncertainty.

It wasn't until Lin Zhixing revealed one vital clue that everything suddenly fell into place. At last, Ye Zheng understood the logic behind Aston XIV's every move, and with it, what she had to do next.

【The manga author is dead.】

Lin Zhixing told her.

【More precisely, his body is dead. His brain has been preserved by the company and is still being used in experiments.】

【His body reached the limits of what it could endure, but the consciousness within his brain remains active. It's connected to your world and continues to exert influence over it.】

【Pei Xi's level of consciousness linkage with him runs exceptionally deep. Now that his brain has been devoted entirely to the experiment, that connection will only deepen further... Perhaps...】

"Perhaps they'll eventually become the same person."

Ye Zheng murmured.

She remembered how, long ago, the system would issue warnings whenever her character was on the verge of collapsing. Now she understood that those so-called plot restrictions and character settings had always been manifestations of the manga author's consciousness. One individual's will had simply been disguised as an inescapable destiny.

Curiously, the only "characters" who had ever received those warnings were herself and Pei Xi.

The system had once explained that the author's influence was limited. He could interfere with her rebellion and hold it back, yet he couldn't stop the butterfly effects she set into motion. That was why the changes in Lu Qi, Wu Shu, and the others had never triggered any warnings. The author's consciousness simply didn't possess enough spare capacity to control them.

Aside from herself, only Pei Xi had ever activated those warnings.

It was obvious that the author's consciousness exerted an extraordinarily profound influence over Pei Xi, one so overwhelming that it refused to let his thoughts or emotions stray from the path it had designed.

Yet later, those warnings stopped appearing for Pei Xi altogether.

Was it because Pei Xi and the author's consciousness had become increasingly intertwined, their resonance growing stronger with each passing day? Or was it because the author, shaken by her actions, could no longer cling so confidently to his hot-blooded shonen fantasies?

Most likely, it was both, Ye Zheng thought.

That reminded her of a term she'd once come across on the manga forums: "skin suit." Now that the manga author's physical body had died in the real world, his consciousness would inevitably become even more dependent on Pei Xi in this world. In a sense, Pei Xi had become the manga author's "skin suit."

The situation mirrored Aston XIV's exactly.

Vincent Aston from five hundred years ago was equivalent to the present-day Pei Xi, while the current emperor, the Aston XIV, was equivalent to the author from the manga world. Its consciousness had invaded this world and taken possession of Vincent's body.

Lin Zhixing had told her that killing the manga author would prevent the two worlds from merging. By that same logic, killing the original invader might be enough to sever the Aberrant Realms' invasion altogether!

The manga author's body was already dead, while his brain was hidden within a restricted area that even Lin Zhixing couldn't access. For Ye Zheng, that left only one objective: destroy the manga author's consciousness so that the brain sustaining it would finally die as well.

Killing a person's consciousness sounded like an abstract concept, yet to Ye Zheng the task had suddenly become remarkably straightforward. All she had to do was kill Pei Xi. The fragile soul concealed behind him might then collapse on its own.

On a sheet of paper covered in chaotic handwriting, Ye Zheng wrote down two names, her dark eyes unreadable.

PEI XI. ASTON.

Kill them, and bring this catastrophe to an end.

The former was shielded by the author's consciousness, while the latter was a monster capable of endlessly invading and possessing other people's bodies. Neither presented an obvious point of attack.

Ye Zheng glanced at the newly updated manga. She knew that Pei Xi and Aston XIV had already joined forces and were discussing how to kill her.

Pei Xi was still wavering out of fear, but the emperor appeared to have already settled on a plan. The last time she'd happened to see him summon Bai Muqing together with her father and elder brother, he had most likely already been plotting how to deal with her.

But Ye Zheng had a plan of her own.

She genuinely didn't know the emperor's weakness. Yet the more desperately someone feared something and struggled to resist it, the more readily that weakness revealed itself.

He had torn the Demonic Dragon's remains apart and buried them in remote corners far from the Upper District, all while secretly researching the dragon bones, yearning to claim the Demonic Dragon's power for himself.

Since he feared the Demonic Dragon's return, then she would make Margaret rise from beneath the earth, return to the human world, and stand once more beneath the light of day!

Ye Zheng's gaze darkened, a storm quietly gathering within her eyes.

✧✧✧✧✧

Inside the dimly lit palace, the emperor rubbed his tired eyes and let out a quiet sigh. No matter how meticulously this body had been cared for, after twenty years of use it no longer responded as it once had.

Sykes's body had already been ruined. Pei Xi couldn't be touched for the time being. Roy was far too ordinary.

The middle-aged man closed his eyes and sat in silence for a long moment before pulling open a concealed compartment in his desk and taking out a mirror.

Reflected within it was the face of a young man. Its finely sculpted features carried a faint, almost imperceptible gloom, an expression utterly at odds with the face of the man seated outside the mirror.

This was the face that truly belonged to Aston XIV. The gleaming mirror was an artifact capable of reflecting the soul. No matter how many identities he'd assumed, his soul still recognized only one self: the most glorious and exalted Aston XIV.

A knock suddenly sounded at the door, requesting an audience. The emperor casually set the mirror aside.

Heath pushed the door open, approached the desk, lowered her gaze, and bowed her head as she quietly reported Pei Xi's recent movements.

"Oh, he's returned to the Lower District again."

The emperor's voice was laced with unmistakable disappointment and contempt.

"I invested such care... only to cultivate a child this cowardly. How utterly disappointing. He's not even your equal."

Heath kept the stiff smile fixed at the corners of her mouth and remained silent.

The girl's obedient, timid demeanor only made the emperor feel even more inexplicably irritated. He couldn't simply occupy another person's body at will. A certain connection had to exist first, and among humans, blood relations were by far the most convenient.

Yet every member of this generation was worthless, not a single one worthy of being chosen! That reckless fool Sykes had possessed such overwhelming strength, yet he'd still managed to lose to Ye Zheng. As for the others, they weren't even worth mentioning.

Heath carried out her duties with remarkable efficiency, but her strength was far too lacking, and a woman's body was undeniably inconvenient.

Noticing the deep furrow in her father's brow and the frustration clouding his face, Heath stepped forward and poured him a cup of tea herself. Her movements were practiced and graceful. Lowering her head, she presented the teacup to the middle-aged man with both hands.

"Please calm your anger, Father Emperor."

The emperor emptied it in a single swallow. Setting the teacup down with a heavy thud, he picked up a handkerchief to wipe the moisture from the corner of his mouth. Almost absentmindedly, he leaned forward and glanced at the mirror resting beside him.

His movements came to an abrupt halt.

The irritation on his face slowly gave way to a smile. His gaze shifted from the mirror to Heath, who still stood with her head lowered.

He noticed that her silent figure had become unnaturally rigid.

"What did you see, Heath? Tell Father."

His tone was almost affectionate, yet the golden depths of his eyes grew darker and darker.

He enjoyed looking into mirrors. Over the past five hundred years, he had executed countless people who had stumbled upon his secret. Many of them had posed no threat to him whatsoever. Some had even convinced themselves that they'd simply imagined what they'd seen. Even so, killing them brought him nothing but advantages and carried no risk, even if the person in question was his wife or one of his own children.

"Heath, tell me. What did you see?"

The emperor repeated the question with patient calm, his gaze lingering appreciatively on Heath's trembling shoulders, as though he were admiring a tiny bird that had unknowingly flown into a hopeless trap.

Suddenly, a soft thud broke the silence. The girl's legs seemed to give out beneath her. She dropped to her knees, then struck her forehead hard against the carpet.

“…Are you begging for mercy? Do you think Father would actually harm you?”

The emperor's golden eyes looked down upon the kneeling girl without the slightest trace of pity. When Heath remained silent, his interest in amusing himself at her expense quickly evaporated. He'd witnessed scenes this tedious hundreds of times before.

“The great Aston XIV, the hero who once rescued the empire from fire and ruin… Even the radiance of the God of Hope pales before Your magnificent achievements…”

“At such a perilous moment for the empire, to once again receive Your gracious favor… I am so overwhelmed that words fail me. Please forgive my discourtesy…”

Heath raised her head. Her eyes shone with flawless devotion and reverence.

The emperor's hand, which had been reaching toward the hidden compartment inside the desk, came to a halt. Slowly, he withdrew it.