Chapter 238-The Manga Pariah's Guide to Self-Salvation
After Heath's words fell, the palace sank into deathly silence. The Emperor's gaze lingered on the girl for a long while, his fingers rubbing the ring of power on his hand, his golden eyes inscrutable.
"You may leave."
After a pause, the Emperor spoke slowly.
Heath rose from the floor, forcing her trembling knees to hold. She buried every trace of fear, her face a picture of pure, incredulous elation—as though she had just witnessed a divine miracle. Upon receiving the Emperor's command, she said nothing more and withdrew from the room with impeccable deference.
The door clicked softly shut. The guard stationed outside glanced at the departing princess's back, saw nothing noteworthy, and paid her no further attention.
Heath maintained her composed demeanor until she reached her own chambers. She dismissed her handmaidens, and the moment she was alone, her knees finally gave out. She crumpled to the floor with a thud, eyes wide, staring at her disheveled reflection in the vanity mirror across the room.
Why had the mirror reflected that person's face? Why had her father suddenly turned murderous toward her?
Heath recalled an ancient, obscure legend that circulated within the Imperial Palace: the great Aston XIV, unwilling to depart, had lingered in the palace for centuries. His ghost would claim anyone who lost their devotion.
But the palace Aston XIV had once inhabited was still under restoration. Even if his ghost truly existed, it was unlikely to drift over to this temporary residence…
Heath slowly stood. She gazed at the golden-haired, blue-eyed girl in the mirror, and in a flash recalled the succession of golden-haired, golden-eyed monarchs stretching back from Aston XIV—along with the odd attitude her father occasionally showed toward Sykes, Roy, and the others.
He had lavished every resource on Sykes, bestowing upon him the renown and honors befitting a Crown Prince, yet never taught him proper conduct. His reprimands and disappointments were only skin-deep.
Less like scrutinizing a child, more like sculpting an ornate vessel—measuring a garment for fit.
Heath shuddered.
She felt cold. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the curtains billowing, and she rushed to shut every window, then sealed every door tight.
If her suspicion was right… her father—no, Aston XIV—would he really let her off this easily?
It felt as if a sword dangled over her head, ready to fall at any moment. No matter how sealed-off this room was, Heath couldn't feel even a shred of safety.
"Calm down, calm down…"
The Emperor had set aside his killing intent and let her leave. At least he wouldn't move against her immediately. Now, she had two paths before her:
One: take her secret and defect to Ye Zheng. Given Ye Zheng's character and their shared history, Ye Zheng would certainly protect her.
Two: seize this opportunity to earn the Emperor's absolute trust.
The first was the safest path, but it meant abandoning everything she had painstakingly built. Beyond Aston XIV's secret, her value to Ye Zheng was limited—she might even become a burden.
—Come to think of it, given Ye Zheng's recent moves, she might already know secrets no fewer than Heath's own.
Heath exhaled deeply. The moment she instinctively dismissed the first option, her heart had already made its choice.
—Seize this opportunity to earn absolute trust.
That was the only way. Her goal had never been mere survival.
But earning the Emperor's trust would be far from simple. Acting alone wouldn't suffice. Heath chewed on her fingernail—she had to demonstrate greater value and loyalty.
Before she knew it, the fear had faded, replaced by a thrilling rush that shot straight to the top of her head. If she could unravel the Emperor's secret, she might actually reach that lofty position.
*
One week later, repairs to the upper district's Empire Central Station were largely complete. Some trains resumed service, while others—the express lines whose underground Demonic Domains had been destroyed—were permanently decommissioned, consigned to history.
Crowned and scepter in hand, the Pope conducted a grand blessing ceremony at Empire Central Station. The assembled dignitaries wore expressions of piety as they prayed together to the God of Hope for protection.
"…We pray that peace and stability be granted to this nation, that justice and fairness may prevail, far from fear, far from hatred…"
Her gentle voice drifted like the softest lullaby, carried by the machinery to every corner of the Empire, soothing the people's anxious hearts.
When the prayer concluded, Ye Zheng stepped aside. The Emperor strode to the center of all eyes and delivered a rousing address to rally the nation.
"Dear citizens, the Empire has endured much of late, and as your King, I offer my deepest apologies for my shortcomings…"
"I believe all of this is merely the darkness before dawn. I will do everything in my power to ensure your safety and will not let any threat to the people's security and happiness go unpunished… Just as my glorious ancestors before me, I shall lead you through the darkness and into the light!"
Thunderous applause erupted. The middle-aged man descended the stage with a satisfied smile and walked straight toward Ye Zheng, who was about to leave.
"Your Holiness, a moment please."
Ye Zheng turned back. A flash of cold passed through her eyes before she curved her lips. The two stepped into an empty office.
"Have you given my previous proposal any thought?"
The Emperor asked, as if making casual conversation.
Ye Zheng regarded him with a look of apparent puzzlement.
"You see, the Empire needs us to stand united, just as we did today. That is the beautiful vision the people pray for most."
"The demon dragon's revival is imminent. Internal strife among humans will serve no purpose whatsoever—therefore, I will not expose your deception to the public."
Beneath the Emperor's coaxing tone lurked a vein of threat, his eyes glinting softly.
Ye Zheng met his gaze, her expression unchanged, a hint of amusement rippling through her eyes. "I agree. So I'll lift the bounty on Percy. Consider it a gift in return."
Hearing Ye Zheng's answer, the Emperor's composed expression faltered for an instant before smoothing over again.
Getting Ye Zheng to drop the bounty had been his objective. He had anticipated anger, a cold sneer, disdain—perhaps she'd even use his true identity to threaten him back. The one thing he hadn't expected was for Ye Zheng to see through his purpose immediately.
And agree so calmly.
As if Percy's existence—his threat—was utterly beneath her notice… How infuriating.
"Is there anything else? I should get back to my paperwork."
"No—wait." The Emperor hastened to speak.
Ye Zheng had thrown off his rhythm so completely he nearly forgot everything else.
"You seem entirely unbothered by Percy's existence. How reassuring. It appears you've already made your choice—the choice to stand together against the demon dragon catastrophe, for the Empire and its people."
At the mention of the demon dragon, Ye Zheng finally showed a flicker of interest. She asked, "I recall Your Majesty once mentioned that the demon dragon would descend upon a certain woman and thereby revive…"
"Mr. Aston, I wonder—do you already have a candidate in mind?"
Meeting Ye Zheng's quiet dark eyes, the Emperor's heart suddenly pounded.
"Until the demon dragon actually revives, I cannot say for certain who it will be."
"If you don't know, then how do you plan to prevent the revival?"
The two faced each other, gazes locked. The Emperor said slowly, "That is precisely why I need the Sei Curia's help. Neither of us wants to see the demon dragon's return."
Ye Zheng abruptly remarked, "I've heard that during the catastrophe five hundred years ago, what was truly more terrifying than the demon dragon were the Demonic Domains that appeared everywhere without warning. They devastated most of the Empire."
The middle-aged man's lip twitched. "That's correct. But you should know—the demon dragon and those Demonic Domains are closely linked. Once the demon dragon appears, Demonic Domains will descend in terrifying numbers."
Ye Zheng let out a barely perceptible laugh. Her amused eyes were like a fathomless dark sea stirred by gentle ripples. The Emperor didn't miss a single one of her minute expressions, and his heart sank further.
What was going on? During their conversation at the secondary palace not long ago, he had clearly been the one controlling the pace and direction. Only a short time had passed, and yet Ye Zheng had changed in ways he couldn't articulate.
Changes that agitated him—even unsettled him.
As if he were a naked lamb, laid bare by a single glance from her.
"Ye Zheng, it isn't that I have no candidate—Sierra. You should be quite familiar with her."
"I've heard of her exploits. Her connection to Dragon Bone is extraordinary. She even has companions in the West District who are nearly akin to the demon dragon."
"And… she harbors considerable hostility toward you. She runs amok under the banner of being a true follower of the God of Hope. The Sei Curia must find that quite troublesome."
"She is a headache indeed." Ye Zheng nodded.
"You want me to lead a campaign against Sierra?"
The Emperor smiled enigmatically. "We are merely trying to prevent an apocalyptic disaster, Ye Zheng. The people hold you in the highest esteem. I believe your ability to rally support on this matter far exceeds mine. And even if Sierra isn't the one, eliminating her benefits you as well."
"Think it over carefully. Should you decide to act, the Royal Family will provide its full support."
Ye Zheng appeared to fall into thought, as though silently wrestling with the decision, the crease between her brows deepening.
The Emperor watched in silence, considerably more at ease now—even feeling a surge of malicious satisfaction.
"I'll consider it. Please await my reply."
Ye Zheng answered, her tone subdued.
He watched Ye Zheng leave until her figure vanished completely. Standing alone in the empty room, the man could not suppress the smile tugging at his lips. The exaggerated grin on his handsome, dignified middle-aged face created a jarring, almost tearing dissonance.
How could Ye Zheng possibly refuse? No ruler would tolerate someone like Sierra running rampant in their domain. The louder The Disciples' name rang, the sooner it would threaten the Sei Curia's legitimacy.
She had killed even Sykes right under his nose without hesitation—because Sykes was "the demon dragon." What reason would she have not to kill Sierra, who both endangered the Empire and threatened her position?
Of course, his real target wasn't the insignificant bandit Sierra—it was Ye Zheng.
In his long life, Ye Zheng was troublesome, but hardly unique. She would soon meet her end at his hands.
*
Ye Zheng left the meeting room. Flanked by her knights, she strode forward.
Her pace quickened. White robes fluttered beneath the heavy red cape. At the front, where no one could see, Ye Zheng suddenly pressed a hand over her mouth, a tiny laugh escaping through her fingers.
She lowered her hand. The smile at the corner of her lips never faded, and her dark eyes grew deeper still.
How interesting—Aston XIV had actually devised such a scheme against her. A fitting ploy for a monster that had lived so long.
A campaign against Sierra, he said… The moment the message spread that "the demon dragon will revive through a woman's body," not a single woman would survive the ensuing purge.
First in the crosshairs would be Ye Zheng herself. The Emperor had likely already amassed plenty of evidence linking her to Dragon Bone and the Dragon-Bodied Humans. The Hope Project, which the Sei Curia had overseen for centuries, could easily be twisted into some sort of summoning ritual for the demon dragon.
Even though the Hope Project had long been scrapped under her intervention, once public hysteria erupted, not even the Pope could escape the fallout.
And if, at that moment, Percy stepped forward wielding the Divine Sword…
A chain of dominoes, toppling the idol that was Ye Zheng.
Aston XIV merely wanted to use her prestige to legitimize the narrative, then turn it against her—a vicious scheme to the core.
Too bad for him. He had played human for five hundred years, but in the end, he was not one.
He couldn't fathom why she wouldn't kill Sierra. He couldn't conceive of the empathy shared among women. As a woman herself, how could she possibly crusade under the banner of "women will bring disaster"?
Back in her chambers, Ye Zheng unfastened her cape, removed her crown, and kneaded her tired neck.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Not a trace of fatigue showed on her face—even her brows were alight with fighting spirit.
She penned a letter in swift strokes, then handed it to the attending nun with instructions to pass it to the courier knight—to be delivered to the Royal Family's temporary palace, addressed to the Emperor.
She accepted his proposal.
Only, nothing would proceed according to his rosy scenario.
When it came to killing with public opinion, she might just be more practiced than he was.
*
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