Chapter 206-The Manga Pariah's Guide to Self-Salvation
"Your Holiness, everything is ready."
An elderly nun pushed open the door and spoke softly behind Ye Zheng.
A white dove flew across the azure sky. Ye Zheng closed the window. The old nun stepped forward to adjust the layered collar of her vestments. Before the gates of the Papal Palace, a solemn and magnificent ceremonial carriage stood ready, with hundreds of attendants already in position.
The tall ceremonial carriage was drawn by several white steeds. Wen De, dressed in a sash-adorned uniform, was waiting beside the carriage. Upon seeing Ye Zheng emerge, she immediately mobilized the personnel to line up and prepare for departure.
Today, Ye Zheng still wore her signature white robe with a red shoulder cape, carrying an understated sword at her side. Only the crown atop her head could be called resplendent—yet it didn't seem out of place. Her clean, sharp attire made her appear tall and statuesque, while the majestic crown accentuated her dignified beauty. When she appeared amid the crowd's escort, nearly everyone present instinctively bowed their heads to her.
Wen De bowed in greeting, then took Ye Zheng's hand and helped her onto the ceremonial carriage. Standing atop the tall carriage, Ye Zheng lowered her gaze and took in the sight of the Knights bustling around her.
The Pope's birthday did not belong to herself or her family—it belonged to the entire Empire as a church event, with a longstanding tradition of prayer and blessing. Today, Ye Zheng as Pope would process from the Papal Palace all the way to the plaza before the Imperial Palace. Dozens of clergy would display the statue of the God of Hope and treasured holy relics during the procession. Hundreds of Sei Curia Knights would line up to maintain order. Along the route, throngs of believers and citizens would cheer in celebration, catching a glimpse of the Pope's splendor.
The carriage swayed. The procession began.
When the sound of hooves and steady, uniform footsteps rang out, the citizens who had been waiting along the streets erupted like ignited fireworks. The moment the white horses and the Pope's figure appeared on the street, the solid pavement of the upper district seemed ready to be lifted by the cheering.
Standing on the carriage, Ye Zheng nodded slightly, waving to the people. She met pair after pair of eyes—young, clear, aged—and cast a gentle gaze upon them, more dazzling than the light refracted from the crown atop her head.
Various voices intertwined. Ye Zheng couldn't actually hear the people's words clearly, but she could feel the trust and admiration within them, and she smiled sincerely.
Today was cloudless for miles. Looking up at that figure on high, it was as if she were the only sun in the sky.
Percy and his teammates stood at the very back of the crowd. He had no desire to participate in this fervent event—he just wanted to find a way to sneak into the Imperial Palace as quickly as possible. Yet a single unconscious glance outward, and his eyes were inevitably seared by that radiant figure.
"Hey, hey! We need to get moving."
Roy lowered his voice, nudging Percy with his elbow.
Only then did Percy snap back to his senses. He shifted his body backward, withdrawing from the excited crowd.
"This is probably the last time she'll bask in glory. The impostor is destined to be pulled from her pedestal... as long as our operation today goes smoothly."
Hearing Roy's words, Percy frowned. "Telling everyone the truth about the Divine Sword isn't meant to destroy Ye Zheng. This is the God of Hope's Divine Sword—it likely serves a critical purpose. We can't keep it hidden."
Roy nodded perfunctorily. Regardless of their purpose, once the truth about the Divine Sword was exposed, it would be tantamount to destroying Ye Zheng anyway.
Honestly, he rather admired her. Her audacity was truly astonishing—to tell such an enormous lie and then accept people's adoration without batting an eye. Unfortunately, spend too long in the gutter and you'll eventually capsize. The Divine Sword, the mission, and the true hero were destined to return to their rightful places.
Roy bit his lip until it turned white. Soon, his mission would be over too.
He would return to his glorious identity—the identity that had always rightfully belonged to him.
Roy glanced imperceptibly at Percy. Even after the truth was revealed, Percy wouldn't blame him, would he? After all, they had never been his enemies—they had only been secretly helping him all along.
Percy walked forward with a heavy heart, but inadvertently caught sight of a familiar figure. A flash of blazing golden hair appeared and then vanished into the streets and alleys.
"...Sykes?"
What was he doing here?
Percy was puzzled, but he had no energy to spare thinking about Sykes. He led his teammates away carefully.
On the outer perimeter of the crowd, a group of magistrates in black uniforms maintained order. They had to be careful to avoid them.
Atop the carriage, the strikingly beautiful Pope shifted her gaze, the curve of her lips unwavering.
Just as she had expected, Percy and Sykes had both entered the stage.
Ye Zheng's eyes grew even darker. She looked ahead—the grand ramparts of the Imperial Palace were already faintly visible.
The white horses pulled the carriage slowly forward. Amid the clamor, Ye Zheng glanced at the Knight riding the white horse at the very front. The Knight seemed to sense her gaze and turned her head slightly, revealing a small sliver of her cold, sharp jawline. She gave an almost imperceptible nod.
*
The crowd escorted the carriage as it slowly entered the Imperial Palace. The cheering along the streets faded, replaced by the magnificent, bustling palace. Many nobles and high-ranking clergy had already arrived, and the banquet hall was a sea of fine attire, clinking glasses, and flowing wine.
The star of the celebration did not go directly to the banquet hall. Ye Zheng stepped off the carriage and, guided by an attendant, found Shu Wan, who was busy at work.
Shu Wan was cross-checking the guest list and gifts with someone. When she saw Ye Zheng appear at the door, a "Zhengzheng" nearly slipped out, but realizing the occasion was wrong, she hastily corrected herself and called out "Your Holiness."
Ye Zheng couldn't help but find it amusing. She dismissed the others, leaving only mother and daughter in the room.
"If there's anything to be done, just let them handle it. There's no need to exhaust yourself."
Ye Zheng noticed the dark circles under her mother's eyes, her brow furrowing.
Shu Wan waved her hands repeatedly. "It's fine! This is your coming-of-age birthday. I wouldn't feel at ease leaving it to someone else."
Seeing Ye Zheng's frown, she patted her daughter's hand and said meaningfully, "Don't worry. Everything will go smoothly today. I'm supervising every step—there won't be any mistakes."
Ye Zheng's expression froze for a moment. She caught the implication behind Shu Wan's words, and her feelings became complicated.
Her mother was not part of her plan. She hadn't breathed a word to her, yet her mother had somehow understood and taken the initiative to act on her behalf, helping her oversee today's stage.
"Mm, I'm at ease. You don't need to worry either."
Ye Zheng lowered her head, pressing her forehead against her mother's. Gazing into her surprised eyes, she said softly, "No matter what happens today..."
"Trust me. Everything is under my control."
With that, Ye Zheng turned and left. Shu Wan, left standing in place, felt her pupils tremble as a powerful premonition quickened her heartbeat.
Leaving the room, Ye Zheng walked down an empty corridor when the golden-haired princess suddenly appeared at the far end.
"Heath?"
Heath lifted her skirt and hurried over, smiling shyly. "I came looking for you, Your Holiness."
She stressed the words "Your Holiness" heavily, carrying the kind of teasing familiarity between friends. Ye Zheng smiled at this and replied, "How did Her Highness the Princess know I was here?"
"They couldn't find you. I guessed you'd come to see Lady Shu, and sure enough, here you are."
"They?"
Heath's smile faded slightly. "It's Father. He'd like to see you."
Ye Zheng nodded without a hint of surprise. "I see. I was planning to greet him anyway."
After all, he was the master of this palace.
The two walked deeper into the palace. Heath couldn't help but ask curiously, "Why did you choose to hold it here?"
Heath truly couldn't figure it out. Ye Zheng was now the Pope. The Royal Family and the Sei Curia had always maintained a delicate balance of power and rivalry. The Grand Cathedral and the Papal Palace were both fine venues for a birthday celebration, yet Ye Zheng had chosen the Imperial Palace... it was truly baffling.
"Take a guess."
"I'd guess... perhaps you're sending some kind of signal to the Empire's people."
"Oh?" Ye Zheng was somewhat surprised by Heath's answer and turned to look at her earnest expression.
Heath continued, "The prophesied day is approaching. At a time like this, unity among the Empire's leadership is what gives people confidence, isn't it?"
"Unity." Ye Zheng savored the word, then laughed enigmatically. "Let's hope so."
Imposing Knights stood guard before the palace doors. Heath didn't bother having someone announce them—she pushed the doors open for Ye Zheng herself.
The moment she stepped through the doors, Ye Zheng's gaze shifted subtly as she glanced at Heath.
Thinking carefully, Heath appeared to be the most powerless, least noticeable princess in the palace. Yet her presence always quietly permeated every corner. Had she found Ye Zheng on behalf of the Emperor's people, or had the Emperor sent Heath specifically from the start?
If it was the latter, it meant Heath held a certain degree of influence at the Emperor's side—she was no idle outsider.
Ye Zheng instantly withdrew her gaze. Before becoming the Saintess, she and Heath had always been classmates and friends. After becoming the Saintess, their relationship had grown somewhat distant, but Ye Zheng had always understood Heath.
Heath was quiet and shy, sometimes seeming overly introverted. But this introversion wasn't because Heath was a timid person. Ye Zheng occasionally felt that Heath simply carried too many things in her heart—so many that she didn't know where to begin, giving others the false impression of being reserved and meek.
In some ways, the two of them were actually quite alike.
The heavy doors closed with a muffled sound. Heath did not follow her in. Ye Zheng gathered her thoughts and looked toward the middle-aged man standing inside the hall.
The Emperor wore a very formal deep red ceremonial suit. His build was robust, and he looked far younger and healthier than most men his age. He seemed to have been admiring a painting on the wall. Hearing the movement, he slowly turned, revealing a pair of golden eyes.
"It's been a while... Your Holiness."
Ye Zheng stood in place with her hands behind her back, nodding slightly in courtesy.
"May the God of Hope be with you, Your Majesty."
The last time she had met with the Emperor was several months ago, after returning from the West District. He had summoned her, Percy, and Sykes simultaneously, announcing the verdict concerning her at the round table.
The Emperor said nothing more. Ye Zheng stepped forward and followed his gaze to the painting on the wall.
The painting depicted a handsome young man, rendered with extraordinary lifelikeness. Yet Ye Zheng didn't particularly care for it. At first glance, the young man's expression appeared gentle and modest, but his dark eyes concealed a ghostly desire, like a bottomless abyss.
"Is this painting the legendary Count Luan?"
The Emperor glanced at her with some surprise and said approvingly, "I didn't expect Your Holiness to have such a deep understanding of aesthetics as well."
"I merely happened to come across Count Luan's legend once and recognized it. It's hardly a deep understanding."
"Count Luan" was an ancient legend of the Empire. He was an old count who fanatically pursued youth and immortality. He burned all his descendants alive to summon a witch, thereby obtaining a young, handsome, and immortal body. But he feared mirrors, for mirrors would reflect his true appearance—aged and hideous.
The handsome man in the painting had his back to a mirror. The mirror reflected a small patch of the back of his head—shriveled and bald. That was how Ye Zheng had recognized the subject.
"Ah, the legend behind this painting fell out of fashion long ago. I didn't expect a young person to still know of it."
The Emperor sighed.
Ye Zheng had stumbled upon it in some random collection of stories. She parted her lips, about to say something, when a dull ache suddenly throbbed deep in her mind.
Marcy?
Ye Zheng's expression didn't change, but she called out the name questioningly in her mind.
Marcy had always resided within her consciousness, sleeping most of the time to conserve her strength, awakening to answer questions when Ye Zheng called upon her.
Ye Zheng called out again in her mind, but there was still no response.
"Your Holiness, it's about time. Shall we head out? All the guests are waiting for today's star."
The Emperor laughed heartily. Beneath his golden bangs, his golden eyes gazed at her with a smile. Ye Zheng returned his gaze, her dark eyes growing deeper.
"Let them wait a bit longer. You summoned me here—surely there's something else, isn't there?"
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