Chapter 245-The Manga Pariah's Guide to Self-Salvation

"Stop!"

"Fall back—fall back!"

The colossal shadow crept over them. The guards atop the South District wall realized the danger too late, shoving each other aside as they stampeded toward the stairs.

Sierra watched the scene from on high and burst into laughter. Over a hundred black dragons swarmed around the white skeleton like a titanic vessel diving toward the wall!

Ye Zheng had told her and Lucy to look after the Dragon-Bodied Humans—to keep their existence hidden. But why should she and they have to skulk in the shadows?

If the world didn't want them—then the world could die!

At breakneck speed, her heart felt weightless. The wind roared in her ears alongside her own exhilarated cry. Those perpetually sullen red eyes now shimmered with pure, childlike joy, widening with excitement.

In the next instant, Sierra glimpsed a figure standing guard at the gate in the wall. Her grin stretched wider—until she made out who it was, and her lips twisted into a sour frown.

With all this rain, she'd half-expected Ye Zheng to show up.

Instead it was that cockroach again—the one who just wouldn't die!

Percy stood before the wall, sword in hand. Behind him came the chaotic sounds of footsteps and shouts, only steeling his resolve to stop Sierra.

The golden sword gleaming in his hand seemed to be the sole point of light between heaven and earth.

The machines mounted on the wall dutifully Projected the scene to the entire Empire. Someone cried out the warrior's name; many more held their breath, waiting for the decisive moment.

Rain drummed like war drums. Dragons roared. Before the oncoming black tidal wave, Percy's hand had fused with the golden blade. He shut his eyes in absolute focus and swung with every ounce of strength—a single, world-shaking strike!

An invisible shockwave tore the earth open, splitting it into a bottomless chasm. The unstoppable sword-wind cleaved toward the sky-blotting black mass.

The approaching leviathan bellowed in fury—the blast nearly deafened Percy. Before he could see what had happened, the violent rush of air hurled him backward into the gate.

Sharp pain lanced through his back. His vision went black. Bracing himself on his hands, Percy forced himself upright.

Then it hit him—the wall was still standing. Had he actually stopped Sierra?

Dust billowed outside. Through the yellow haze, nothing was visible.

It took a while for the dust to settle. When it did, Percy finally saw what lay before him. His blue eyes trembled; he stared, stunned—

The terrifying, enormous skull was jammed into the gateway, half-buried in the earth, yet still as tall as the wall itself. Behind it stretched an unbroken chain of white vertebrae, rising higher toward the rear—as though the thing had plunged uncontrollably from the sky and nose-dived into the ground.

Percy walked slowly out from under the wall. He looked around. Sierra was gone. The dragons that had borne the skeleton had flown away.

Even the rain had softened, like a drifting veil of white gauze—the kind a sword could slice through with ease.

He had truly stopped Sierra with the Divine Sword!

Percy broke into a genuine smile, still catching his breath. He didn't know where Sierra and her dragons had gone, but the wall stood, and the skeleton remained. For Sierra, who clearly drew tremendous power from it, this was a devastating blow.

He approached the white remains and glanced back, noticing that every Projector on the wall had crashed to the ground. No surprise there—even the ancient, solid wall was still shuddering, shedding dust and stone chips.

But when his gaze drifted upward, he saw more machines still perched on the wall, apparently still faithfully broadcasting everything to the Empire's citizens.

The euphoria of victory dulled his suspicions. He bent to pick up the Divine Sword, knocked loose during the impact—and froze, eyes locked on the cracked earth.

Beneath the massive white skeleton, a great fissure split the ground. It might have been caused by the Divine Sword, or deepened by the colossal impact. The land looked like a battered warrior scarred to the bone.

And in that fissure, he saw white bone that did not belong to the soil.

Percy looked up. The rain he hated had stopped at some point. Soft sunlight filtered through the lattice of bones overhead and dappled the ground. Yet Percy felt no warmth—only a chill more bone-deep than facing the dragon swarm, cold enough to make him shudder.

He turned. His gaze fixed on the brand-new machines still mounted on the wall. And all at once, Percy understood what Ye Zheng was doing—and finally confirmed the terrifying suspicion lodged in the back of his mind.

"No… that's impossible!"

The yellow dust cleared. Far away in the Imperial Palace, those watching the scene stood rigid as statues. The quickest minds had already guessed the staggering truth—but one look at the Emperor, who had risen in fury, and they kept silent.

"Summon my attendants—order every Projection in the nation shut down immediately!"

The servants in the hall didn't react at first. The Emperor had to shout again before Heath, standing behind him, acknowledged the order and hurried out of the banquet hall.

He sank back into his seat and flashed a composed smile at his guests, as though the outburst had never happened. But the eyes that met his now carried undisguised terror. They, too, had connected the dots.

If the swarm of black creatures evoked the demon dragon of five hundred years ago… then that colossal white skeleton that had suddenly appeared—even through the blurry Projection, its oppressive aura was unmistakable.

And those suspicious white bones at the base of the South District wall…

"Good morning, everyone."

"I am the Empire's Pope, the people's Saintess, the agent of the divine—Ye Zheng."

The Emperor, barely seated, shot to his feet again. He drew the sword at his side and scanned the room, causing old Archbishop Colonna beside him to topple from his chair with a wail.

"Ye Zheng? Ye Zheng!"

—"Today, I must seize this opportunity to puncture the Aston Royal Family's despicable lies and share a sorrowful truth with all of you."

"Where is she—where is she?!"

The servants, faced with the Emperor's brandished blade, dropped to their knees in a panic. One answered in a trembling voice, "The Pope—the Pope is in the Papal Palace, Your Majesty."

The golden-eyed man swept the room. Everyone was staring at him in abject horror, as if they hadn't heard any strange voice at all—as if he were a lunatic suffering auditory hallucinations!

Impossible. Ye Zheng's tone was clearly not directed at him. She had to be somewhere, bewitching his subjects—and taunting him through this eerie trick!

Vincent Aston was on the verge of losing his mind. His words tumbled out in disjointed fragments—"Ye Zheng is lying" one moment, "Go seize Ye Zheng" and "Stop Ye Zheng" the next. Not a soul in the room dared approach. They gaped at him, occasionally glancing at the Projection.

Before the Projection was forcibly cut, they saw a column of stern knights in white surround the fearsome white skeleton—the Holy Journey Knights Order, the Pope's force permanently stationed in the lower district.

At this sight, those invited to witness the Pope's downfall fell silent. Even if they couldn't piece together the full picture, years of instinct honed in the corridors of power told them one thing—

This was not the Pope's downfall. This was likely the end of the Aston Royal Family.

In a small cottage at the edge of the West District grasslands, a girl sat in silence before a radio, her eyes glazed.

"As you have seen, a white skeleton now rests before the South District wall of the lower district. Dragon-like creatures resembling the demon dragon carried it there—and set it down upon yet another set of remains."

"White bones lie deep beneath the earth—long, curving, and slender. They are the bones of wings."

The young woman's measured voice echoed through every street and alley. The giant Projections in the public squares had gone dark, but the humble radios amplified her words through their speakers. People's hearts clenched even tighter than when they had witnessed the dragon swarm. The square, holding thousands, fell so quiet that only the sound of breathing remained.

Some already sensed what was coming. Fists clenched. Eyes reddened.

"—They are the remains of the demon dragon."

"In other words, the true Dragon Bone."

In the East District of the lower district, Wen Xin sat alone in her study, quietly transcribing Ye Zheng's address. She removed her glasses without a word, her gaze boring into empty air. So this was the truth… How dare the people in the upper district deceive them like this!

Her hand trembled. The glasses slipped and hit the floor with a crack.

A splash—Lucy spun around. A water bucket had toppled over. Her mother stood frozen, then rushed to the radio and pressed her ear against it. Her cheeks, sagging from years of hard labor, quivered.

"Long before I became Pope, I had been investigating in secret. The demon dragon's skull is buried in the East District of the lower district. Its spine is buried in the West District."

"Just moments ago, I learned that its wings are buried in the South District."

In the deathly still banquet hall, the Emperor clutched his head and screamed "Lies!" One hand swept across the table in a frenzy, sending precious tableware crashing to the floor in a shower of shards.

Five hundred years ago, he had personally overseen every Dragon Bone burial. The bones in the South District were not buried there at all. Ye Zheng was fabricating evidence—deceiving his people!

"No Dragon Bone was ever buried in the upper district. It has enjoyed five hundred years of peace. Meanwhile, the lower district and the Middle District—lying atop Dragon Bone day after day—have suffered the threat of Demonic Domains year after year…"

"The Astons deceived us. Dragon Bone's power attracts Demonic Domains!"

The young woman's voice rang out in fierce condemnation: "The Aston Royal Family exploited us—forced us to bear the threat of Demonic Domains while they sat high upon their throne, reaping the resources those Domains produced!"

"…This is the truth about Dragon Bone. We have been blinded for hundreds of years."

As a helpless, grief-stricken sigh followed her words, tears streamed down countless faces. In a Middle District square, a well-dressed middle-aged man wept openly, heedless of his dignity, and sank to the ground.

He had worked himself to the bone trying to claw his way into the upper district, grateful every day for the magnanimity of its elites in granting him a stable life—grateful they had deigned to spare a sliver of Dragon Bone to shield the Middle District, so they wouldn't suffer as miserably as the lower district.

He had penned article after article excoriating Wu Shu, condemning her for betraying her hometown's hopes, spurning the Royal Family's generosity—wishing he could have taken her place and brought Dragon Bone back…

And the truth was… the Royal Family had placed Dragon Bone in the outer districts from the very start to divert Demonic Domains away from themselves!

Watching the ignorant masses grovel and ingratiate themselves with the upper district's royals and elites, begging for Dragon Bone they already possessed—those people must have found it hilarious.

The vast majority of the upper district, equally blindsided by the revelation, sat in stunned silence.

Everywhere else, weeping, bitter laughter, and furious curses filled the air. People who had been listening to radios at home poured into the streets. Some trampled coins stamped with the Royal crest underfoot; others smashed every royal emblem in sight in a frenzy.

Inside a lower-district ability academy, students and teachers stared at each other in disbelief. They had just pledged to win next year's Ability Tournament and claim Dragon Bone.

"No—what the Pope says isn't necessarily the truth! All this talk about demon dragons and Dragon Bone—we haven't seen any of it with our own eyes!"

A young man shot to his feet, shouting at the entire class in defiance. "A relative of mine works as a guard in the upper district—he's specifically assigned to watch over Dragon Bone. He said it's pitch-black, like something only a demon would have…"

"Sit down and stop embarrassing yourself!"

His seatmate shoved him back into his chair and said through gritted teeth, "That's Ye Zheng we're talking about—the Saintess, the Pope, the true agent of the divine… The resources our class gets to enjoy? Those are all thanks to her advocacy…"

The girl didn't finish. It was under the encouragement of Ye Zheng and her knights that her parents had finally decided to send her to an ability academy.

Just as the entire Empire teetered on the brink of chaos, Ye Zheng's voice rose once more.

"I make this promise as Pope: the Sei Curia will recover all Dragon Bone. The recovered remains will be placed under the guard of the Holy Journey Knights Order, and residents in the surrounding areas will be evacuated."

Those sinking into despair slowly raised their heads. Trembling hands touched their ears, as if reaching for a bonfire in the dead of night.

"Beyond that, I make this promise in the name of Ye Zheng—I will banish every last Demonic Domain, so that no one need live in fear any longer. This age of darkness ends with us!"

The resolute, ringing voice reverberated through every corner of the Empire. People gradually stopped their frenzied destruction. Anger and bewilderment still marked their faces, yet their eyes slowly regained a glimmer of hope—even, without realizing it, brimming with tears.

This was the first time in five hundred years that anyone had made such a promise to this land—a promise to end the boundless catastrophe.

No one had ever dared. Who could possess such courage and conviction?

Wu Shu, leaning against the base of the South District wall, tossed a piece of white bone in her hand. She had just used it to lure those creatures in the right direction and had nearly been annihilated in the crossfire.

Ye Zheng's voice filled her ears—but this time it wasn't a private order. She was addressing the entire nation.

What a masterstroke. The Emperor had only thought as far as terrorizing the populace to stoke fear and hatred. Ye Zheng had seized the fear the Emperor had ignited and, at the moment when hearts were most vulnerable, detonated the explosive truth. When emotions and confidence hit rock bottom, Ye Zheng personally extended a hope that shook people to their core.

No one could refuse a hand that warm and strong.

Ye Zheng's voice still murmured in her ears. After the promise, her tone had softened—light as a lullaby.

"Divine Revelation, Volume Two: 'I shall endure undefeated through darkness and despair; I shall burn away the old and embrace the new.' May these words encourage us all."

"Believe that the divine loves the world."

"…And I love you."

The voice fell silent. The radio went still.

Countless people lingered before their radios, eyes moist, yet their hearts more resolute than ever—as though a force, unshakable and indestructible, had been poured back in.

In barely ten minutes, a tower had collapsed inside their hearts—and a new one had risen in its place.

Wu Shu, leaning against the wall, suddenly pressed a hand over her mouth. Her shoulders hitched—the same posture she usually wore when stifling laughter—but tears spilled unbidden down her face, wetting her hand.

How strange. Why was she crying? Not a single tear had fallen even when she saw her own father's scathing denunciation of her in the papers.

*

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