Chapter 276-The Manga Pariah's Guide to Self-Salvation
Imperial Palace. A middle-aged man in a deep crimson uniform stood alone atop a tall white tower, frowning as he gazed into the distance.
Too short. This rebuilt tower had too narrow a view, and the wind didn't even blow properly.
Once all these tiresome affairs were behind him, he would build a tower of unprecedented height—one from which he could look down upon every structure and soul in the upper district.
He lowered his gaze to survey the palace grounds and caught a flash of striking golden hair on a distant path. It looked somewhat like Heath.
There were no more than two people in the entire palace with hair of that pure gold.
Sykes had once been the most dazzling presence within these walls, but the Emperor had never found him an eyesore. Every achievement, every glory of Sykes's would ultimately belong to him—the boy was merely his puppet doll.
Even when a flicker of displeasure occasionally crossed his mind, he'd never truly held Sykes's transgressions against him.
Heath was well-behaved. Her words and conduct aligned perfectly with his wishes. And yet, inexplicably, he found her increasingly irritating of late.
The man's grip on the railing tightened without his noticing.
Probably because Heath had been dragging her feet on the Roy matter. This body was growing more feeble by the day. He desperately needed a fresher vessel, yet Heath couldn't even manage the simple task of bringing Roy back.
Every last one of them was staggeringly stupid—Heath, Percy, Roy, Bai Yi!
Had it never occurred to them that everything they were doing was gift-wrapping opportunities for Ye Zheng?
The Emperor was almost entirely certain now: Ye Zheng's goal was to resurrect the Demon Dragon!
He would not let her succeed. Since those fools had dug up the Dragon Bones, he had no choice but to hold his nose and help them guard the bones—keep them out of Ye Zheng's hands.
This was the last line of defense against Ye Zheng's resurrection of the Demon Dragon. It absolutely must not fall.
The middle-aged man clenched his jaw, his face deathly pale under the brutal sun.
Beyond that, he'd been covertly supporting Ye Zheng's opposition. Her sweeping, uncompromising reforms had drawn widespread fury. Plenty of people wanted her dead just as badly as he did.
Kill Ye Zheng and everyone could sleep soundly. Killing her was the best possible solution.
As for those self-important fools, once he'd dealt with these headaches, he'd settle scores with each one of them.
He had been in this world for five hundred years. Occasionally, he'd hoped an opponent thrilling enough to excite him would appear. But Ye Zheng's arrival had shifted something in his psyche.
...For the next five hundred years, at least, he'd rather endure the monotonous, uneventful life of an emperor than face any more of this nonsense.
The Emperor couldn't recall what world he'd come from—some mishap during his descent had likely wiped that memory. But it no longer mattered.
He was quite satisfied with his life here. The Hope Project he'd been nurturing for centuries was finally bearing fruit, with real promise of advancement. The appearances of Percy and Sykes had each been more ideal than the last—as if tailor-made for him.
Unfortunately, now was not the optimal time to become Percy.
Once Percy, under his covert guidance, killed Ye Zheng and returned to the upper district as a celebrated hero—that would be the perfect moment.
If necessary, he would personally go to the lower district to oversee the operation against Ye Zheng.
Exhilarated by the thought of the future, the Emperor lifted his head and tried to stare directly at the blazing sun. Before long, his eyes gave out and clamped shut.
He released the railing, turned, and retreated into the cool shade of the room. Indeed, he much preferred comfortable indoors.
Going to the lower district in person would be far too dangerous. As the empire's sovereign, he shouldn't act rashly or put himself at risk.
He wouldn't lose. Ye Zheng was about to face a force of elite ability users several times the size of her knights' order. Three archbishops within the Church had already secretly defected to the opposition. They'd resolved to stake their careers and lives on eliminating the heretic Ye Zheng.
Besieged from within and without—even if Ye Zheng survived, she'd be far too weakened to resurrect the Demon Dragon!
The man's lips curled. Even in the worst-case scenario—Ye Zheng seizing every surfaced Dragon Bone—she could never piece together Margaret's complete remains.
It was simply impossible.
The Emperor descended the tower. Heath was waiting outside, enduring the noon sun.
"Heath, there's no need to send anyone for Roy and Percy for the time being."
"Whatever they need—give them your full support."
Heath looked up, her rather ordinary features betraying a flicker of confusion. She seemed not to understand the Emperor's sudden change of heart.
The Emperor merely glanced at her. She flinched as though struck by his authority and quickly bowed her head in assent.
Only after the sound of the Emperor's departing footsteps had faded entirely did Heath raise her head, a smile she couldn't contain flickering in her eyes.
The lie she'd told Roy had actually come true?
With the Dragon Bones surfaced, the Emperor had no way of stuffing them back underground. He could only swallow his fury and cooperate with Percy's group.
Even if Roy met the Emperor someday, she wouldn't have to worry about being exposed.
Heath couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. Remembering she was still outdoors among passersby, she schooled her expression in the blink of an eye.
The situation grew more complex and dire by the day, yet her genuine smiles had been coming more and more frequently.
Even without the Emperor telling her, she could guess the specifics of the operation that required cooperation with Percy's group—it was obviously about dealing with Ye Zheng.
"Sigh..."
Heath let out a soft breath. Ye Zheng's crackdown on the upper district had been too aggressive. Their fury had temporarily overridden their innate cowardice and willingness to compromise.
But Heath wasn't particularly worried. Her steps were light and buoyant; she even wanted to spin in place to express her excitement.
—She had a chance to visit the lower district!
Heath had read many books and seen countless treasures. Her knowledge far surpassed her peers, but her actual life experience was pitifully thin.
She harbored ambitions of ruling this nation, yet to this day she had never once left the upper district.
She'd heard that an entire family's home in the lower district could be smaller than the bedroom in her chambers. Yet these impoverished people were always kind and hardworking—understanding a contentment that the upper district's aristocrats never could.
That kind of "happiness" was something Heath had never witnessed, could scarcely imagine. Her own chambers were too small; since childhood, she'd envied the fact that Sykes even had his own hunting grounds.
Anticipation mingled with unease. Some instinct told her that the upcoming trip to the lower district might exceed her wildest expectations.
*
"Roy, the East District is Ye Zheng's stronghold in the lower district. Do they really think they can take her on?"
"Not 'they'—'we.' Surely you're not that cowardly, Percy?"
On the outskirts of the East District, Percy deactivated the metallization on his arm and wiped the light sweat from his brow. He stood before Roy, wearing an expression of utter incomprehension.
"I should be asking you that, Roy. Since when are you this reckless?"
"Lately, you've seemed especially... agitated."
Roy was the type to throw cold water on the group when spirits ran high. He might grumble, but he was always swift and reliable in action—he'd bicker with Lucy at most, and no one ever took it seriously.
Percy chose his words carefully. "I understand where you're coming from, but I think our top priority should be protecting the Dragon Bones we already have, not staying in the East District to fight Ye Zheng..."
"Percy, this is the best chance we'll ever have to bring down Ye Zheng. Once she's out of the picture, we won't have to skulk around guarding the Dragon Bones."
Roy's gaze was deep and probing, carrying a sharpness that seemed to see through people.
"Are you afraid of Ye Zheng?"
"Ro—y!"
Percy seized his friend's shoulders. "I'm the one thinking clearly here. Roy, are you sure your motives aren't personal—"
A personal desire to leverage this campaign against Ye Zheng to win the Emperor's and the aristocrats' backing, vaulting himself to become the true imperial heir...
Percy didn't finish. The two stared at each other in silence for a moment before Percy, as the team's leader, spoke first to break the tension.
"Roy, as your friend, I want to see you on that throne too. This time, let me be the one to help you."
Friction and secrets aside, he and Roy stood on the same side. As for Ye Zheng... she might well stand against the entire world.
Hearing Roy use the word "cowardly" had stirred a distant memory—Ye Zheng, in her Zhaomei disguise, manipulating an ignorant version of him into abandoning his duty. Pathetically, he'd actually wavered.
If Ye Zheng was absolute justice, then what was he—chosen by Hope to stand on the opposite side?
Percy trudged forward, each step heavy, his heart more conflicted than ever.
How could his existence be meaningless? He possessed an extraordinarily rare dual ability, a background intimately connected to Hope, and the Holy Sword's acknowledgment...
Yet ever since Ye Zheng appeared, his destiny seemed to be veering off course, little by little.
Was it because Ye Zheng had used him—usurped his place as the Chosen One?
It shouldn't be this way. Under Ye Zheng's suppression and the shadow she cast, he'd struggled and fought and still come up empty-handed.
What was his true mission?
His mind was about to burst from the tangle of thoughts when his gaze suddenly froze. He remembered the apocalyptic prophecy that had terrified generation after generation—
In five hundred years, the Demon Dragon will return to the mortal world and destroy this nation.
And from an even more forgotten corner of memory: Yin Kong, the prophecy-type ability user from the Seminary who'd long since vanished, had once told him in a teasing tone:
"A friendly warning—stay far away from that Saintess. Her fate is terrifying. No one can stand beside a flood that can destroy heaven and earth..."
The flippant voice still rang in his ears. Percy snapped out of his reverie, throwing his head back and gasping for air like a drowning man finally breaking the surface.
Then a chill swept through his limbs, delayed but devastating.
The Demon Dragon couldn't just reappear out of nowhere. The person most likely to bring about the apocalyptic prophecy's doomsday vision—was Ye Zheng!
Percy gripped the sword at his side, tense. The thought was chilling, yet it brought him a strange sense of relief.
If stopping Ye Zheng was his mission, he would never back down again.
Just as every story's protagonist had a destined nemesis—he had met Ye Zheng. Only by surpassing her could he push his own story forward.
Author's Note:
Still have to catch the early train to Hangzhou tomorrow. Vaguely wishing for death...
Comments
Post a Comment