Chapter 295-The Manga Pariah's Guide to Self-Salvation
Ye Zheng slept for five hours. Before dawn, she woke from a dream, sat by the window, and watched the sun rise in silence as gentle light inched across her face.
A day and a half had passed since the Demon Dragon's advent, and she had received no response from that man.
A flicker of puzzlement crossed Ye Zheng's eyes. He feared the Demon Dragon so greatly that he would use any means to keep her in check. He shouldn't have stayed silent this long.
"Marcy, based on what you know of him, what would he do once he learned the news?"
Marcy's voice drifted up from deep within her mind. "He would extend goodwill, feign weakness—anything to stall you—until he found the right moment to kill you."
"Exactly. And he still has a heavy-hitting trump card. It's not as though he has no way of keeping me in check."
Ye Zheng propped her chin on both hands and sank into brief thought.
In the latest manga preview, she had seen this continent almost entirely shrouded in white domes of light. No district could escape the Demonic Domains' invasion—a vision indistinguishable from the end of the world.
That man held the switch to the apocalypse. One press, and he could drag this land into hell.
He knew the devastation would be catastrophic and irreversible, so he wouldn't use it lightly—unless he was cornered with no way out.
Ye Zheng heard steady footsteps outside her door. She opened it to find Wen De standing there, expression grave.
"Everything is ready, Your Holiness."
Ye Zheng glanced at the time, let out a small "Oh!" of surprise, shut the door, and ducked back inside to tidy up. She changed into a more formal shirt and black trousers, pulled on black gauntlets, picked up the long sword resting in the corner, and fastened it at her waist.
Her attire was sharp yet understated—not a single ostentatious symbol of power anywhere on her person. But her authority no longer needed outward trappings.
Certain members of the local Sei Curia had secretly colluded with the aristocrat army, tacitly endorsing the assault while waiting for her defeat. But Ye Zheng had been prepared all along. Dealing with them required no large-scale mobilization of the Curia's forces—and it conveniently gave her a legitimate pretext for a post-battle reckoning.
Earlier, under the guise of establishing the New Diocese, Ye Zheng had dispatched her own people to serve as new bishops across the land. Though this had dealt a blow to the entrenched local powers, it hadn't been enough to dismantle them entirely in so short a time.
This time, the aristocrat army's assault had handed her the evidence on a silver platter. She graciously accepted—and had prepared a generous gift in return.
The day before yesterday, the blood of over a thousand had flowed through the East District. Yesterday, one local Curia after another followed suit—the holiest of cathedrals permeated by the lingering stench of blood.
Wen De fell half a step behind, briefing Ye Zheng as they walked. "The central Sei Curia's forces are already waiting at the rendezvous point. The other lower-district contingents have assembled..."
Ye Zheng gave a slight nod, her stride cutting and brisk, tinged with an almost imperceptible urgency.
She had not given herself the luxury of time to recuperate. Striking now might not be the most opportune moment, but Ye Zheng believed that the instant she made her move would become the best moment—an unprecedented, unrepeatable one!
Any hesitation was a crack in the armor. Any deliberation was a variable. The moment she'd made up her mind, only one road remained—and there was no turning back.
Conveniently, she had never once intended to turn back.
The two strode quickly through the base. Ye Zheng halted before a door, her calm dark eyes closing, then slowly reopening with an even fiercer resolve.
She pushed the door open and stepped onto the elevated platform. Below, thousands of eyes locked onto her in an instant; every murmur died away.
Besides the sea of people, two bulky machines were trained on the stage. Qin Lu was making final adjustments.
Ye Zheng didn't speak at once. She couldn't help but lower her head and let out a quiet laugh. Today might be the last time she addressed the entire Empire as Pope.
"People of the God of Hope!"
The young woman stood on the platform and raised her voice. Clear and resonant, it carried over the resolute soldiers, beyond the city walls, and rang across the nation.
*
Far away in the upper district, the Emperor rushed to the room housing the Projector. Even after receiving the news, he still clung to hope—Ye Zheng couldn't have reacted this quickly after getting his letter. Perhaps it was just the Pope delivering a speech to calm the public.
News of the Demon Dragon's return had spread across the Empire, sending every district into panic. Ye Zheng, the culprit, should be held accountable.
As this nation's ruler, he had done everything in his power to fulfill his duty as its guardian. He had no desire to destroy the world—Ye Zheng had simply forced him to surrender the initiative!
Whether this world survived or perished rested entirely on Ye Zheng's decision. She was clever enough to make the right choice.
The man waited with taut anticipation, but the message from his guards stopped him in his tracks.
"Your Majesty, Princess Heath requests an audience!"
The Emperor's face contorted for an instant. He bared his teeth in a chilling smile. How dare she come back? He didn't have time to deal with her right now—and she had the audacity to show up on his doorstep?
The order "Seize her" hadn't left his lips before the guard's next words cut him off.
"She is at the other palace and hopes you will come to her in person... Oh, and she said she's brought you a gift."
"A person called Percy."
The middle-aged man's pupils trembled. Fury surged, and for a moment he couldn't tell whether he was enraged that the Percy he'd so painstakingly cultivated was pathetic enough to be leveraged by Heath, or that Heath had dared to use Percy against him.
He quickly realized that Heath knew far too much. She very likely understood what Percy meant to him.
Even if the Demonic Domains truly reduced this world to ashes, he could survive by inhabiting Percy's body. Percy was a unique form of life. When the time came, he might even be able to escape this world altogether!
Percy was his true escape route!
The man's soul felt as though it had been cleaved in two. One half wanted to seize Percy back immediately; the other told him the more urgent matter lay in the opposite direction.
His lips twisted open and shut. His hand rose and fell. In the end, without a word, he bolted toward his original destination, his furious silhouette trailing an air of dishevelment.
He practically threw himself into the study. The Projector was already running.
"People of the God of Hope!"
The Projector and the Radio hummed simultaneously, their slightly distorted voices overlapping one after the other like an inescapable nightmare.
Meanwhile, the announcement of the Pope's address had been issued less than two hours ago, yet crowds had already packed the streets around every public Projector. Households with the means had brought out their Radios; in alleyways and on street corners, people gathered around Radios broadcasting at full volume.
Once again, hearts wavered and darkness pressed close. The prophecy of the world's end hung like a sword above every head—perhaps it had already fallen, and no one knew when it would pierce them.
Gripped by that dread, the only solace people could find was in the savior the prophecy foretold—Ye Zheng!
She was the Saintess who symbolized hope, the Agent of the God of Hope, the most righteous and virtuous Pope in all of history!
She had swept aside the veil that had blinded them all, leading them out of the Royal Family's and the aristocrats' age-old web of lies. She was justice. She was hope!
The people of the Empire held their breath and waited, yearning.
"People of the God of Hope."
After the first ringing call, that naturally gentle voice repeated the words softly, tinged with a dreamlike distortion.
"—Please allow me to address you this way one last time."
The prophesied savior let fall a third line, like a sigh.
Before anyone could fully grasp what those words meant, a premonitory shiver crawled up their spines—scalps tingling, bodies trembling.
Author's Note:
Still not feeling well today. I'll try to write more tomorrow.
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