Seraphina looked incredulously at Helen, while Flalle, after a brief pause, inquired softly, "And what if I were to affirm your supposition?"
"I... from my perspective, I support your decision."
The Empress is the sole possible threat to Ansel; should this nace be eliminated, Ansel would attain true and complete freedom. No longer would she need to exhaust her wits in devising a weapon potent enough to slay a deity, nor would Ansel have to forsake his ideals under duress.
Yet...
A thought surfaced in Helen's mind.
But is this truly what Father desires?
She recalled Ansel's gaze upon Flalle, pondered the recent events, and questioned once more—Is witnessing Mr. Flalle slay the Empress truly Father's wish?
Is such an apocalyptic war, capable of toppling continents, genuinely Father's aspiration?
"Yet... from Father's perspective."
Helen looked earnestly into Flalle's eyes and declared, "Mr. Flalle, you might think presumptuous, but I believe... Father would not wish for you to commit such an act."
"And if not so," Flalle inquired with interest, "how would you propose to extricate Ansel from his current peril?"
—Both divine beings are short on ti, and all fifth-stage beings await the fall of the current deities in mutual combat, to then conspire in extinguishing the unascended divine progeny, severing the divine lineage.
On top of this, the Empress might covet Ansel, and Evora regards him as a formidable foe, with irreconcilable differences.
In such circumstances, what can be done to resolve Ansel's predicant?
Helen could not conceive a solution; she could only respond with feeble hope: "There will always… be a… way."
"'There will always be a way' can be a cowardly evasion in the mouths of so, but in the mouths of others... it signifies unyielding perseverance."
Flalle smiled, "I believe you belong to the latter, little Helen. I acknowledge your conviction, but..."
"But why would I truly engage in a deadly struggle with Ephesande?"
The man laughed heartily, "Rest assured, such an event is impossible. Do not fret over this matter. Resolving the troubles my child cannot is my duty."
He responded with a booming voice, his handso visage alight with confident exuberance, betraying no hint of a mind plunged into madness.
Whenever it concerns Ansel, Flalle always exhibits such lucidity:
"Is this not a father's duty?"
Elsewhere, Ansel entered the fourth-floor floral chamber, where his mother Annelisa was delicately arranging a bouquet amidst a vibrant array of flowers. The mont Ansel stepped into the chamber, she turned her head, exclaiming with joy:
"Ans, what brings you here... Oh my!"
Madam Hydral, eager to embrace her son, stumbled over a vase, nearly falling. Ansel, observing the scattered vase and flowers, sighed in resignation and approached Annelisa to help tidy the ss.
"Father says he wishes to take you aboard the Nostrom for a while," Ansel murmured, "He sent to bid you farewell."
"What farewell... it sounds as though I shan't return," Annelisa remarked with slight displeasure, "l really has a way with words... Well, you know how he detests loneliness, why else would he enjoy Lawrence's company? I'll just stay with him for a bit, and once l has finished with his secretive project, I'll be back."
She glanced at her son's handso profile and suddenly chuckled, reaching out to pinch his cheek, "If you grow lonely, you can always co to find aboard the Nostrom."
"...There's no need for that."
Annelisa, uncharacteristically not indulging in her whims, replied with a gentler tone, "That's good then. Even in my absence, you won't feel lonely, Ans."
Ansel paused in his arrangent of the flowers.
"Mother," he emphasized slightly, "You just ntioned that father has a way with words ."
"Hahaha, I rely think that little Seraphina and little Helen... and many more will gather around you in the future. I'm not speaking ill, you know."
Madam Hydral snorted and lifted her chin proudly, "I am extrely averse to death and pain! In the past, l would ask to adventure, but unless it was absolutely safe, I wouldn't budge. How could anything happen?"
She looked at Ansel, who remained silent, blinked her eyes, and softened her tone slightly.
"So, Ans, you surely won't be lonely in the future, right?"
"…Perhaps."
"No, don't say 'perhaps', that won't do!" Annelisa stared at him intently.
Ansel was silent for a mont, then sighed helplessly, "When I feel lonely, I will co to you. Is that satisfactory?"
Annelisa just wanted this answer, wanting her increasingly independent son to rely on her, and Ansel was well aware of this.
But this ti, he heard his mother say,
"No, that's not it, Ansel."
Annelisa cradled Ansel's cheeks, her golden hair shimring from her temples.
"What I want to hear is that you will never be lonely, whether I am there or not."
Ansel and his mother looked at each other for a while, then he suddenly removed her hands, calmly responding, "Why are you suddenly discussing such a serious topic with ? Has sothing grave occurred?"
This question stunned Annelisa for a mont, then quickly cleared her eyes, "Nothing serious has happened... Wait! What do you an, Ans! Just because I'm discussing a serious topic, does it an sothing terrible has happened? I am going to be angry now!"
Ansel, composed, adjusted the vase for Annelisa, "I've said my greetings, so I'll be leaving now, Mother."
"You—go on, go on, stop bothering ."
Madam Hydral huffily sat back amidst the flowers, arms crossed, not looking at Ansel as he prepared to leave the floral chamber.
But as Ansel was about to step out and close the door, Annelisa suddenly turned her head, her smile warm and radiant,
"Ans! When you and l have ti, let's go see the flowers together again, shall we?"
"…"
Ansel paused, not responding, and simply closed the door.
But as he tilted his head and saw through the door crack his mother's accommodating and tender expression at the last mont, he still bowed his head and softly replied through the crack,
"Alright, Mother."
"Promise, okay!" Annelisa peered through the crack, waving vigorously.
"Promise, Mother."
The young Hydral closed the door and walked away.
This frequently traversed corridor, in his eyes at this mont, inexplicably stretched out to an imasurable length.
His father had acquired the final material, and Helen's taming had also reached its conclusion.
Ansel of Hydral walked on, passing through a warm patch of sunlight, then abruptly paused at a concealed juncture untouched by the sun's rays.
For below the suspended walkway, he saw Seraphina and Helen sitting side by side, seemingly in deep discussion.
Fate, success, and failure.
In the predetermined future he had witnessed, and in the unknown future he was about to face, the most critical turning point was imminent.
Ansel had long been waiting, fully prepared, and... resolved.
The young Hydral withdrew his gaze, not lingering in the sunlight but decisively crossing the boundary between light and dark, stepping into the boundless shadows.
"...So, I plan to first comfort Ansel like this, hey... hey! Are you even listening to ? I'm being so generous, sharing with you—"
A flushed Seraphina was chattering into Helen's ear, while the latter, looking up thoughtfully, retracted her gaze and turned to Seraphina after a mont of contemplation:
"No, this matter... you should handle it yourself, Miss Seraphina."
"What, what?"
"In the matter of pleasing Father, you possess abilities far surpassing mine—do not misunderstand, I am not belittling your worth... The ability to provide Father with complete emotional solace and relaxation is sothing I also wish to have."
"It's just that..."
Helen looked at her hands and whispered softly, "It's just that, this really isn't suitable for ."
Would Mr. Flalle truly choose to kill the Empress? What exactly is he researching? And what connection does that have with the "period of growing apart over the past six years" ntioned by Mr. Flalle?
Helen did not know the answers to these questions, but fortunately, she had ample ti.
There were at least two to three years, if not longer, before the Empress and Flalle would completely lose control and self-destruct. During this ti, if all her attention could be focused on the weapon capable of slaying a deity... perhaps, many dire outcos could be avoided.
With a thought, a faint group of Nidhoggur, barely visible as a small cluster of dark spots, flew out from her dim bracelet. The mysterious assassin had taken the majority of the Nidhoggur, but as if to mock her, left behind a few that were no longer of any use.
And before that, there were other threats, or... Father's test for .
Helen allowed the tiny cluster of Nidhoggur to linger on her fingertips, whispering softly in her heart:
I will surely gain Father's approval, beco his pact head, contribute my strength to him, I must—
...Wait.
The petite scholar suddenly sensed sothing odd about this remnant cluster of Nidhoggur.
They were still sowhat beyond her control and were arranging themselves into...
A sequence of codes?
*
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