Chapter 275-The Manga Pariah's Guide to Self-Salvation
"Ye Zheng, have you truly made up your mind?"
Marcy had been silent for a long time. Her residual consciousness lingered within [Mother of All Things] like a stubborn ghost, refusing to move on out of sheer unwillingness.
She asked, though she already knew Ye Zheng's answer.
"You're young, brilliant, and powerful. This nation is already inching toward the vision you've designed for it, step by step. You have all the time in the world to guide your world steadily into its next era."
All she had to do was kill Aston XIV, and Ye Zheng would become this nation's true leader. She had more than enough cunning to usher in a new age of transformation. She would undoubtedly become the most luminous, towering figure this world had ever seen!
Marcy thought—this was the grand ambition she herself had never been able to fulfill. Ye Zheng was already infinitely close.
And yet, Ye Zheng had chosen to halt at the height of her momentum. She was about to insert an earth-shattering interlude, disrupting what should have been a smooth and glorious trajectory.
"Marcy, I made a promise to everyone that I would solve the Demonic Domain problem. And I promised Margaret that I would see her again."
The dark-haired, white-robed young woman leaned against the balcony railing, head bowed over a classified document in her hand. It was covered in names—nothing else.
Ye Zheng's expression seemed almost absent-minded. Something on the page appeared to amuse her, and she couldn't quite suppress a smile.
"Awakening the Demon Dragon won't necessarily solve the Demonic Domains, Ye Zheng. Even you don't know what the consequences will be, do you?"
Marcy's voice was stern.
"—No, you don't know what the Demon Dragon will bring. But you certainly know the crushing pressure you yourself will face."
The Pope whom the people trusted and admired most, destroying an entire district to awaken the legendary world-ending Demon Dragon—Marcy couldn't bear to imagine how devastating that scene would be, how chaotic the aftermath.
Ye Zheng's enemies had tried every conceivable means to smear and defame her, scrutinizing her under a magnifying glass for the slightest flaw—all in vain.
Now Ye Zheng was about to hand-craft a scandal devastating enough to end her own career!
"Marcy, you know my style. Slow and steady progress is a perfectly fine approach, but... I was never destined for a peaceful path."
Ye Zheng's tone sounded helpless, even regretful, yet the face reflected in the glass window wore a faint smile of barely concealed eagerness.
She understood Marcy's good intentions. What she was about to do was indeed perilous in the extreme—both for her personal safety and for her papacy.
Ye Zheng would refine her plans in response to risk, but she never abandoned a goal because of it.
She could not build her ideal world while ignoring the threat of the Demonic Domains. Or rather, the future she envisioned had no room for these frequent visitors from another world.
Rather than endure an interminable, never-ending ache, better to fight tooth and nail in one desperate gamble and be rid of the pain for good.
Besides, Ye Zheng was fairly confident in her chances.
"Ye Zheng." A trace of sorrow crept into Marcy's voice. "You're the person who gives me the most hope. I don't want anything to happen to you."
"In the five hundred years before your birth, and the five hundred years after, this nation will never see a second Ye Zheng..."
Marcy's wistful words echoed in her mind. Ye Zheng smiled in spite of herself.
The paper document in her hand suddenly went soft and damp, curling into a ball in her palm before dissolving into water that trickled through her fingers and evaporated.
"The world doesn't need a second Ye Zheng, nor should one ever appear."
"After me, there will be an endless stream of girls who take up my cause and carry on my ideals. That is enough."
"Marcy, it's the same way you see me—you don't regret that there's no second Marcy."
The gentle words settled into silence. Birdsong rang out crisply in the still air.
Ye Zheng gazed at the dense, towering trees. A sigh, faint as a breeze, brushed past her ear.
"...I'll look forward to it with you—that vibrant future."
Marcy's whisper dissolved into the wind.
Ye Zheng's gaze drifted to the distance. The upper district's buildings rose and fell in elegant, staggered tiers—ancient and refined.
A flicker of regret crossed her dark eyes. If they all came crashing down at her feet, it would certainly be quite a spectacle.
But on second thought, those exquisite buildings were innocent. She only needed to clear out the vermin inside.
Marcy's earlier concerns were not unfounded. Although Ye Zheng had stayed behind the scenes—the surface work of excavating Dragon Bones belonging to Percy and his group—the moment the Demon Dragon descended, the people's trust in her would inevitably waver. And certain people wouldn't let that opportunity slip by.
Since ascending to the papal throne, she'd swept out plenty of incompetent and disloyal individuals, using her papal authority to strip them of their positions. But the behemoths behind them couldn't be eradicated overnight—much like that Bai Yi fellow.
They could no longer tolerate her "reckless behavior." Perfect—she needed them to contribute to the Demon Dragon's revival as well.
Ye Zheng stared at the tree outside the balcony. It had grown tall and lush. Wen De had repeatedly suggested cutting it down—it was too close to Ye Zheng's quarters, providing excellent cover for threats.
There was no reason to sacrifice an innocent, thriving life for her safety. Ye Zheng always brushed the matter aside.
Now, expressionless, Ye Zheng extended her hand toward the tree. Her dark eyes glinted cold against the overly brilliant light. From a distance, the tree seemed to shiver, its leaves trembling.
Her right hand closed in a phantom grip in midair. Threads of water, so fine as to be nearly invisible, coiled around the branches. In mere moments, tender green shoots sprouted from both sides of the limbs.
A gust of wind sent the old leaves fluttering down in a cascade.
Ye Zheng seemed pleased with the fresh growth on the branches. She admired it for a while before leisurely taking her leave.
After she left, the tree swayed gently once, then went still.
Ye Zheng entered her chambers and turned her head slightly, as if on instinct. The light divided her face into halves of brightness and shadow. She lowered her eyes, hiding a flash of derision.
—They were truly hopeless. She'd had no choice but to "accidentally" let slip a few things, giving them time to prepare. Otherwise they'd never muster the nerve to launch their siege.
Once they staked everything on an assault, she'd have a perfectly legitimate reason to evacuate the East District's civilians.
She felt sorry about destroying the East District. She could only minimize the damage—but her resolve would not waver in the slightest.
[Mother of All Things] held dominion over creation and death. Birth and death were but a cyclical flow of energy.
She would unleash a flood to scour every inch of the East District's soil, unearthing every trace of Margaret. The shattered remains would find rebirth in the cataclysm of destruction!
And they—they would become the fuel.
—Once the Demon Dragon revived, they would inevitably exploit it to cause trouble and pile more headaches on her.
In that case, she'd simply make sure they never had the chance to cause trouble again.
Ye Zheng pondered as she walked slowly into the depths of the palace.
As for the story's original protagonist, Percy—Ye Zheng had a feeling he would definitely get in her way.
She'd allowed him to act freely all along because he seemed to serve as an anchor linking the two worlds, and Ye Zheng still needed to communicate with the other world.
"But the true anchor... seems to be someone else entirely."
Ye Zheng stopped before a wall and took down the golden sword hanging there.
She drew the blade and studied it closely—this replica she'd forged to match the Holy Sword depicted in the manga.
In the photos Lin Zhixing had sent her, the Creator's model weapon rack had one empty slot. The missing sword was probably similar in length and size.
Ye Zheng found it rather amusing. Her sword was an imitation—yet the so-called real Holy Sword in the other world was nothing more than a prop replica.
Author's Note:
Still have to catch the early train to Hangzhou tomorrow. Vaguely wishing for death...
Comments
Post a Comment