Volu 2
Chapter 79 : The Only Color, Part Two
“Why are you here again? I didn’t agree to let you into my house!”
The angry voice from outside drew Mingfuluo’s attention, as well as that of the young girl at the desk, scribbling sothing, who turned her head.
“I’m just here to see my granddaughter. That’s my right as her grandfather.”
“You don’t deserve to be her grandfather. Leave, now!”
The escalating argunt made the chubby-cheeked girl lower her eyes and Miss Doll, observing it all, mirrored the sa reaction.
“Before that, don’t you think you should ask Arlo’s opinion?”
Hearing this, the little girl hesitated, then hopped off her chair, ran to the door and opened it, poking her small head out into the hallway, calling out in a tender voice:
“Grandpa…”
At the staircase at the hallway’s end, the two arguing figures turned to look.
The handso man looked pained, while the kindly old man smiled.
“Arlo, Grandpa’s here to take you to study. Want to co with ?”
Little Mingfuluo’s purple eyes sparkled briefly, but seeing her father’s darkened expression, the light faded silently.
Clutching the doorfra, she hesitated for a long ti before shaking her head.
The man and the old man’s expressions froze, then swapped almost instantly.
But Erlin, the old man, quickly regained his composure, smiling and nodding: “Then I’ll co see you next ti… Oh, I almost forgot the gift I bring every ti.”
He tapped his unremarkable cane, and a dodecahedron materialized before little Mingfuluo.
She carefully reached out to take it, then heard Erlin say: “This is a little toy I thought up these past couple days. It took so effort. Have fun with it, Arlo.”
Little Mingfuluo curiously toyed with the dodecahedron, discovering it could be twisted and reshaped.
Under her manipulations, it quickly beca an odd shape.
Trying to revert it, she found its internal structure was even more intricate, requiring ether to sort out.
The girl soon beca engrossed, her pretty purple eyes fixed on the toy, her small hands deftly twisting it.
She looked up happily, saying softly: “Thank you, Grandpa.”
The old man waved with a smile, turning to descend the stairs.
The man beside him made no move to see him off, instead hurrying to little Mingfuluo, crouching down and asking softly: “Arlo, why didn’t you want to… go study with your grandfather?”
The little girl paused her tinkering, looking up at her father:
“Because Mommy and Daddy would be unhappy.”
“…” Layden opened his mouth but showed no joy in her words.
Instead, his expression grew complex as he asked: “So… you still want to spend ti with your grandfather, don’t you?”
Young Mingfuluo, unable to grasp her father’s emotions, tilted her head and answered honestly: “Yes.”
Layden fell silent, then let out a weary sigh.
Watching him, Mingfuluo thought for a mont, then held out the dodecahedron to Layden:
“Daddy, toy.”
The tiny, adorable girl blinked, wanting to share sothing she liked with her father.
Layden looked at his daughter offering the toy with both hands, stunned for a long ti, a deep tenderness rising in his eyes.
He hugged Mingfuluo: “Thank you, Arlo.”
He smiled, as if to show her his mood had lifted, and began trying to twist the toy back to its original shape.
But within half a minute, his smile stiffened.
Little Mingfuluo, looking up at her father, tilted her head slightly.
After watching for a while, she prompted: “Daddy, the piece your left middle finger is on—push it in, then switch to the upper-left face, move the right pillar aside, maybe… um… it needs one standard unit of ether?”
Layden, hearing her advice, froze without moving.
Only when Mingfuluo called out to him anxiously did he react, forcing a smile and handing the toy back.
“…Sorry, Arlo, Daddy’s too dumb.”
How could a four-year-old understand subtlety or concealnt?
Innocent little Mingfuluo tilted her head, puzzled: “But I think it’s easy to put it back. It seems like it can turn into different shapes too…”
Muttering, she tinkered with the toy as she walked back to her room.
Left behind was an ordinary man, caught between a genius father and a monstrous daughter, standing alone in the hallway.
Mingfuluo watched this calmly.
Revisiting it now, she could sowhat understand Layden’s suffocation, but to her, no one was to bla—only Layden’s diocrity.
diocrity wasn’t a sin, but to resent talent out of diocrity was contemptible.
In her eyes, her father was just such a despicable figure.
The gray mory world shifted rapidly, spaces splicing and rging, objects fading and blending, the accelerated flow of ti creating a cold, eerie absurdity… At the sa ti, Mingfuluo didn’t know why she was recalling these monts.
If it was about recovering mories, shouldn’t she be seeing those related to Anselm?
She hadn’t lost these mories; every detail was crystal clear.
Why was she… reliving them now?
Miss Doll watched the scene grow sharper.
When Erlin gave her that dodecahedron, she knew exactly which mont this mory marked.
Soon, she saw herself lying on the lawn, basking in the sun, tinkering with parts.
Young Mingfuluo seed tired, looking up to rest, when she noticed her parents arguing at the third-floor bedroom window.
The girl thought for a mont, took a small crystal from her pocket, and infused it with ether, projecting an image of herself on the lawn.
Then she quietly slipped back into the house, climbing to the third floor.
“Layden, do you know what you’re saying? She’s your daughter! Are you doubting her or ?”
Haitana’s eyes were red: “How could you say sothing like that!”
“…Haitana, I’m not doubting either of you. Calm down and listen.”
Layden rubbed his temples, exhausted, letting out a deep breath:
“Do you know what that toy he gave Arlo is? It’s the final question for this year’s third-tier Alchemical Association exam! Solving it in two minutes qualifies you as a mid-tier mber… but Arlo… Arlo figured it out in five minutes. Do you know what that ans?”
“She’s a genius!” Haitana raised her voice.
“Is that strange? Are you only now realizing your daughter’s a genius?”
“This isn’t about being a genius!”
Layden grew angry, pacing the room, his expression fraught:
“She’s only four! Four! She started reading at one year and two months, and it’s been less than three years since! A normal child’s brain is just developing, but she’s already solving problems only third-tier alchemists tackle… Even a grand duke’s child would only be learning etiquette at this age!”
He gripped his wife’s shoulders, weary and sorrowful:
“Tell , Haitana… do you really think this can be explained by ‘genius’?”
Haitana opened her mouth to retort but, calming from her anger as a mother and wife, felt a chill.
“…But Arlo, maybe she really is…”
She tried to explain, but Layden said deliberately: “I know him, Haitana. I know that lunatic too well. He must—”
Layden paused, cautiously glancing out the window.
Seeing his daughter still tinkering on the lawn, he drew the curtains tightly before continuing gravely:
“He won’t give up on that nonsensical, damned ideal… He’ll never stop.”
“So…” Haitana’s voice trembled, “you’re saying Arlo, she—she—”
Layden released her hands, closing his eyes in pain, his voice hoarse:
“She… isn’t normal.”
Haitana covered her mouth, staggering back, tears welling in her eyes.
“Our child… was tampered with by Master Erlin… is that what you an?”
“He’s a fifth-tier alchemist! Even in his decline, there aren’t three alchemists in the Empire stronger than him! If… if he did sothing, we’d never notice. And his attitude toward Arlo, her attitude toward him… it’s not normal, is it?”
“Haitana, listen to . The Ether Academy… no, the Ether Academy can’t be trusted either. I’ll find a way to get soone to check…”
The voices faded, as in Mingfuluo’s mory, she had already slipped away, leaving her ho to run to her grandfather’s modest cottage.
Mingfuluo watched the pained expressions of her parents in the gray room, knowing this was just a construct of her mory.
But why—
In this illusory scene, did I make their sadness and helplessness so vivid?
Mingfuluo touched the chest of her phantom self, feeling no emotional stir from these two.
Years of resentnt had long turned to apathy.
The question lingered unanswered as the scene shifted.
Mingfuluo didn’t know that, in the real past, in the words she didn’t hear, Layden, holding Haitana, though exhausted, said with unwavering resolve:
“No matter what Arlo becos, she’s still our daughter.”
The chaotic mory shifted rcilessly, coldly exposing the scars Mingfuluo least wanted to face.
“Grandpa.”
Watching Erlin orchestrate the alchemical workshop with the elegance of a conductor, Mingfuluo asked softly: “So, am I really not normal?”
After that ti, Mingfuluo rarely returned to her own ho.
She lived with her grandfather and felt a joy and freedom she had never experienced before.
Because Erlin could answer all her questions and respond to anything she said.
Following her grandfather, Mingfuluo saw the vibrant splendor and infinite mysteries of this world, things she had never encountered.
A young child could not resist such beauty.
Her great talent made her unable to tolerate the silent diocrity and so, her kind, gentle, and profoundly knowledgeable grandfather quickly replaced the presence of her parents.
Erlin gently patted Mingfuluo’s small head and said warmly, “You’re perfectly normal, Arlo. It’s just that your father cannot understand your talent. Just as I cannot understand why he is so ordinary.”
“Ordinary,” the girl softly repeated Erlin’s words. “Is that Father’s fault?”
“…No, child, it isn’t.”
The old man sighed but said no more.
Little Mingfuluo stared intently at Erlin and asked, “I heard Uncle Hendrik say that Father and Mother… betrayed Grandfather. Is that true?”
“That was a few years ago.”
“So, is it because of them that Grandfather is now…”
Mingfuluo looked around the simple alchemical workshop.
A great fifth-tier alchemist, reduced to displaying his talents in such a humble environnt—she couldn’t understand why her grandfather had fallen so low.
“No, Arlo,” the old man’s voice remained gentle. “Don’t bla your parents. My downfall has nothing to do with them.”
“Then why—”
“It’s just my choice, child.”
The furnace fire burned, tal clanged, and ether flowed, connecting various materials.
Without a carving knife to etch circuits, a masterpiece was forged as if it were naturally ford.
It landed in Erlin’s hand, a complex cylindrical construct.
Mingfuluo watched as it released a breeze, then spewed flas, and soon surged with crackling lightning, enveloped by an invisible energy field, utterly wondrous.
But not long after, it exploded with a boom.
The faint explosion was contained within Erlin’s palm.
He stared at the blast for a long, long ti, his expression numb and desolate.
“I chose… to give up,” the old man lowered his eyes.
“This is not a feat I can accomplish. My limit lies here.”
“Even Grandfather can’t do it?” Mingfuluo asked, sowhat disbelieving.
“I’ve already seen the end of my possibilities, child.”
Erlin Zege answered softly, “There’s no hope there for what I want.”
“But…”
He turned his gaze to the petite girl, his cloudy, yellowish eyes suddenly bursting with fervent vitality, sweeping away the earlier air of twilight.
The old man placed his hands on Mingfuluo’s shoulders and said solemnly, “But I see it in you, Arlo.”
“…?”
“Yes, you. You are the greatest genius I’ve seen in this world, second only to Mr. Flal… No, if not for Mr. Flal’s almost cheating spiritual essence…”
Erlin’s tone grew increasingly fervent as he murmured, “You might have… the potential to surpass him!”
“Only a genius like you, capable of transcending limits, is the true hope.”
“So, child, why worry about the foolish things your father says?”
He smiled and ruffled little Mingfuluo’s head.
“If I can help you beco such a remarkable genius, capable of realizing that possibility, why would I choose to give up… Ah, I haven’t really ntioned it to you yet, have I?”
He looked at the very puzzled little Mingfuluo and said with a smile, “Curious about what it is?”
The young child didn’t grasp the weight of those words at that mont.
She was simply curious, as a child, casting joyful and passionate gazes toward everything in this world she couldn’t yet understand.
“Mm!” Little Mingfuluo nodded vigorously.
“Then I will teach you, child.”
The old man gazed at the radiant light in the girl’s eyes and responded with delight, “About the world, about the future, about… the revolution of everything.”
And then, in just two short years, Mingfuluo grew at a terrifying speed unimaginable to others.
She understood the unique nature of the transcendent in this world and, under Erlin’s guidance, saw clearly the stagnation of this world.
She was filled with longing for the future Erlin described.
[Child, imagine a world where transcendent power, where ether, or even elents, could be used freely, anyti, anywhere, by anyone, in any way…]
[Hunger would cease to exist, and toil would be liberated; children could beco friends with animals and plants, conversing with them; the disabled could be made whole again, even sprouting wings to soar into the sky.]
[Thousands of steel arrays could support us in exploring the oceans, unveiling the mists, and even conquering the perilous Zero Point Labyrinth. Perhaps we could discover new continents, new territories, or even new worlds.]
[Arlo, such a world would be one of true infinite possibilities, a truly great and radiant… future!]
While other six-year-old children were still playing house with neighborhood kids, the equally young Mingfuluo Zege, under Erlin’s influence, was already yearning for that future filled with infinite possibilities.
Within the space of her mories, Mingfuluo gazed at her younger self, her expression sowhat dazed.
In truth, this period was not entirely joyful.
Because Layden always ca to find her, trying every ans to take her away from Erlin’s side.
She constantly heard endless argunts.
Erlin’s attitude toward Layden shifted from initial calm concessions to criticism and confrontation, and in rare monts, even anger.
This drove Mingfuluo to imrse herself even deeper into endless studies, incomprehensible to ordinary first- or second-tier transcendents.
Having co to know the world earlier than others, young Mingfuluo relied less on her parents than other children did.
But at the sa ti… she could see more clearly the love her parents poured into her.
Her father and mother loved her, and young Mingfuluo believed this throughout her childhood.
Thus, she could not understand or face the quarrels between her father and grandfather—because her grandfather loved her just as much and understood her better, showing her such a beautiful future.
The girl was caught in this numbing dilemma, unable to choose, so she buried herself in the beauty of knowledge to escape the absurdity of reality.
Gradually, aside from the splendor of knowledge, everything else lost its color.
The mory shifted.
Mingfuluo saw her grandfather return to the study after arguing with her father.
He sat in a chair, silently watching her younger self.
That young self was so engrossed in reading that she didn’t even notice Erlin’s entrance.
The old man watched quietly for a long while before standing to leave.
But a faint sound alerted little Mingfuluo, who looked up at him, her tone bewildered, “…Grandfather? Is sothing wrong?”
Erlin paused.
He looked at Mingfuluo, who, even while looking at him, clung tightly to her book.
After a mont of silence, he sighed, “If Layden were like you… you would be much happier, child.”
Before Mingfuluo could respond, Erlin shook his head and said, “I’m not criticizing Layden, Arlo. It’s not his fault. It’s mine.”
The old man, his figure slightly hunched, leaned on his cane and murmured with closed eyes, “If I had raised him more firmly, instead of giving up on him after a decade because of his diocrity, letting him drift; if I had given him a better, more inspiring environnt to grow in, to strengthen his convictions…”
“If I had done that, even if Layden were a diocre talent, he could have been a diocre man with conviction and ideals. He wouldn’t need to achieve such greatness, only to do what he could.”
“But in the end… I gave up on him.”
Erlin sighed, “He lives in pain. His childhood and youth were pained by his own diocrity. Now, he’s pained by his hatred for and his love for you.”
Little Mingfuluo said nothing.
She couldn’t understand Erlin’s words; the emotions between people were still too complex for her at that ti.
She only felt that her grandfather seed sad, so she tried her best to offer comforting words, “But… Grandfather still has many students, like Uncle Hendrik and Lady Ronggor…”
“Yes, they are all my proud students, people I place great hopes in.”
Erlin opened his eyes and smiled at little Mingfuluo.
His words carried a weight that even Mingfuluo, gazing at this mory, still hadn’t fully grasped, “So, I won’t make the sa mistake again. I promise you, child.”
“And… you must promise sothing too.”
That withered, wrinkle-covered, sallow hand gripped the cane tightly.
The old man, aged and bearing no trace of a fifth-tier sorcerer, said with utmost solemnity, “You must promise , absolutely, absolutely, never to give up pursuing that future, pursuing the possibilities you yearn for, pursuing the… ideals you believe in.”
In this gray world, Erlin’s figure seed to solidify, as if he were truly standing before Mingfuluo, speaking those words.
Those words should have filled Mingfuluo with strength, reigniting the conviction of her present self, lost in these mories.
But Mingfuluo only stared blankly at her grandfather’s figure, at that aged face so vivid in her mory, her heart unable to stir any ripples.
Because if she were to rally herself just because of those words, what would her ideals… beco?
Sothing absurd?
Without knowing the reason, without knowing how to achieve it, rely because of a mory of “you must hold fast to your ideals” could break through all the confusion and pain she had endured lately—wouldn’t that prove… her ideals were just based on those words alone?
How fortunate.
Mingfuluo even felt relieved.
She was relieved that she hadn’t regained her confidence because of Erlin’s words, relieved that her convictions didn’t stem from a single sentence heard at six years old.
This was sothing she had truly realized over her seventeen years of life, sothing she had accumulated bit by bit, sothing she was willing to give everything for… sothing that truly existed.
The scene shifted again.
Aside from studying, there were almost endless quarrels—between her father and mother, her father and grandfather, her parents and grandfather… and grandfather’s students, her parents’ friends…
Her father never gave up trying to take her away from Erlin, while Erlin showed an unwavering resolve.
Young Mingfuluo, initially torn and helpless, gradually beca indifferent and numb.
She learned to focus solely on her studies and self-improvent, and the dull grayness of the world beca ever more vivid in her eyes.
What ca next, it seed, would soon be the scene Mingfuluo never wanted to relive, the one she tried desperately to forget but dared not, refused to, and was unwilling to let go of.
But to her surprise, that scene didn’t co.
Her mories sped past, showing her monotonous teenage years, studying and researching alongside Erlin’s students, delving into this world, searching for ways to forge a new future.
Those were among the few tis in Mingfuluo’s twenty-one years that could be called happy.
A group of people with the sa ideals and beliefs helped one another, filled with passion and dreams for the future. In that fervent environnt, Mingfuluo thrived.
But as ti passed, she gradually realized… Though there was still a vast gap in skill and strength, in terms of mindset and perspective, she was fundantally different from them.
As she grew older, she understood Erlin more and more, growing increasingly disgusted with this monotonous, stagnant, unchanging gray world, with the hell and prison called transcendence.
Yet she found that others didn’t share her clarity of vision, or… they were utterly powerless to change anything.
Mingfuluo recalled what Erlin had once said: only a true genius could realize that future.
So she began to forge her own path alone, gradually growing accustod to it, communicating and interacting with others less and less.
She beca lonely, then grew used to loneliness, until one day, she received a letter.
—A letter of exchange from soone calling themselves Faust.
After just a few exchanges, Mingfuluo already considered him a kindred spirit, but she never expected their eting would be like…
Boom!!
A violent thunderclap nearly shattered Mingfuluo’s consciousness.
When she ca to, she saw roiling dark clouds in the night sky, rolling thunder between them, endless torrents of rain and in the midst of the storm… herself and him.
“So, it was all a lie?”
She saw herself, numbly questioning the boy standing in the rain.
“Yes, all lies.”
The golden-haired boy leaned on his cane, maintaining composure even in the downpour. “Lies I told to make you submit to completely.”
“…I see. So that’s why you refused to let beco your Contract Head, because I wasn’t loyal enough, because I wouldn’t put you above everything else.”
In the rain, Mingfuluo was no longer the delicate, innocent child.
Though her appearance hadn’t changed much, her expression and deanor had grown cold, hardened.
The rain poured over her as if cascading over steel.
“So, you never truly intended to realize our ideals.”
“…Never intended?”
The boy across from her suddenly questioned.
“Never… intended? Never intended, never intended… Hahaha!”
The boy, who had been calm and composed monts before, suddenly burst into laughter, a laugh tinged with hysterical madness.
The darkness and rain couldn’t dim the brilliance of his sea-blue eyes, but now, that brilliance wasn’t gentle or beautiful—it was… furious and crazed.
“So you truly believe that everything I’ve done, everything I’ve said, was all a lie?”
“When I said I couldn’t stand on the sa ground as you, you thought everything I did for you was an illusion, every word I spoke was false, and my…”
The boy gripped his cane tightly, roaring in the rain, his furious voice drowning out even the thunder, silencing the heavens under his wrath:
“My thoughts and feelings for you, were they all lies too?!”
“Mingfuluo Zege…”
“Answer !”
The rolling thunder roared again, shattering Mingfuluo’s consciousness.
She rembered.
She rembered the emotions Anselm revealed in that mont, the sea-blue eyes in that still-youthful face, and all the… anger, sorrow, resentnt, confusion, and… powerlessness brewing and erupting in those words.
How could it be… a lie?
Why did I believe it was a lie?
I need to understand more clearly, just a little more… the final piece!
Mingfuluo, the present Mingfuluo, her phantom pierced by the rain, shouted toward the mory of Anselm:
“Anselm… why! What made you give up? If… if you had told , how could I not have believed you, Anselm… Anselm!”
As a deep floating sensation surged, Mingfuluo’s tone grew increasingly frantic.
She urgently questioned the illusory figure in her mory, but, as expected, received no response.
As her consciousness gradually rose from illusion to reality, Mingfuluo still asked herself frantically—
What was Anselm’s burden, and what exactly was it?
“Awake?”
After an unknown amount of ti, Mingfuluo heard a voice in her ear.
It wasn’t a replay from her illusory mories but a reality that seed to carry warmth.
Miss Doll realized her body didn’t ache as much as she had imagined.
She struggled to open her eyes and saw a pale, delicate face up close.
“Wow… Anselm, what’s wrong with her eyes?”
The girl crouching beside Mingfuluo, holding her own face, said in surprise, “It’s like she hasn’t slept for a month. She looks half-dead!”
“Move aside, Hit.”
“Oh.”
Hitana obediently stepped aside, allowing Mingfuluo to et the boy’s gaze.
Those sa sea-blue eyes, yet so different from the ones under that stormy rain.
Mingfuluo had many words stuck in her throat but couldn’t say anything and for so reason, Anselm didn’t speak either, just quietly looking at her.
They gazed at each other for a long ti, so long that Miss Hitana began to fidget restlessly, before Anselm finally spoke, “Mingfuluo, am I not sothing you can sacrifice?”
“…What?”
“I an, what made you choose not to exchange those potions, to endure such inhuman tornt, rather than provide Ivora with ether armants?”
He pointed at himself, speaking in a joking tone, “Is it really because of ?”
Mingfuluo was silent for a mont, then nodded gently, “Yes.”
“…Then back to the earlier question.”
Anselm crouched down, leveling his gaze with Mingfuluo, who lay on the sofa, staring into her dim purple eyes, “This ti, why didn’t you sacrifice ?”
Mingfuluo’s mind flashed back to that rainy storm, to the boy’s roars and expressions under the downpour.
To… Elnilisa’s sorrowful words.
She answered almost instinctively, “Because Anselm would… be very sad.”
Hitana froze for two seconds, then scrutinized Mingfuluo with a wary, suspicious look, while Anselm’s lips twitched slightly, his expression unchanged.
“Then you’re really treating like a child.”
The young Hydra laughed heartily, “And an overly coddled one at that… But your answer is interesting.”
“But,” Mingfuluo stared fixedly at Anselm, “I heard you say, Anselm, that you’d make Ivora pay a price.”
“For now, you’re still mine. Her casual mistreatnt of you is, naturally, a challenge to .”
Anselm’s expression remained calm, “So, of course, she must pay a price.”
“Is that… so.”
Mingfuluo looked at Anselm’s emotionless face, her heart gradually settling.
Even in that gray mory space, gazing at her late grandfather, she hadn’t felt this sense of calm.
“And she has indeed paid a price.”
Anselm pointed to the desk, “Those potions, I retrieved for you, and…”
In the mont Mingfuluo was stunned, he dropped another bombshell that left Miss Doll’s mind blank.
“Based on their value, I obtained the truth about Erlin’s death from her.”
The young Hydra stared at her faintly trembling purple eyes and said calmly, “Not clues, not fragnts, but the complete truth.”
He placed a scroll in Mingfuluo’s hand, then stood and walked to the chair behind the desk, sitting down.
“No need to thank . This is the reward you deserve for protecting . Oh… one more thing, Mingfuluo.”
The devil propped his cheek with one hand, looking at Miss Doll, whose body began to tremble, his lips curling slightly, “You still have the right to regret. Return it to , forget it entirely, pretend it never existed, and continue living peacefully.”
Mingfuluo didn’t respond to this, only asking with a trembling voice, “Is this… real?”
“I can guarantee its authenticity.”
Erlin’s death… the nightmare that had tornted her for fifteen years.
Even in those vivid, detailed mories earlier, Mingfuluo had been too terrified to face it, clinging to despair but unwilling to recall any details.
And now, the truth was in her hands.
No longer trivial clues or cryptic words, but… the truth.
The truth that could let her grandfather rest in peace.
How could she… retreat now?
Miss Doll ignored Anselm’s warning, her unsteady hands slowly, bit by bit, unfurling the scroll.
As ti ticked by, Mingfuluo remained frozen in the act of opening the scroll, motionless.
Anselm rested with closed eyes, while Hitana grew impatient, craning her neck toward Mingfuluo to peek at the scroll’s contents.
Just as she leaned closer, she heard Mingfuluo’s faint murmur, “This can’t be… This can’t be…”
“What can’t be? Let see—”
“This can’t be!”
A scream startled Hitana.
Mingfuluo, like a madwoman, tore the scroll to shreds, fell from the sofa to the floor, and scrambled toward Anselm, clutching his pant leg and roaring, “Anselm… this is fake, right? This is your trick to break , isn’t it? Isn’t it! This is—”
“You can verify the answer yourself. It’s simple, isn’t it?” Anselm replied lightly.
Mingfuluo froze for a few seconds, then, like a newly recovered invalid, fled the office in a frantic, disheveled stumble.
“She looks like she saw a ghost…” Hitana, puzzled, picked up the scroll’s fragnts. The Head of Wind pieced together the information, reconstructing the whole, “Erlin Zege, died by…”
“Hm… Hm?! What’s this!”
Amid Hitana’s equally shocked cry, Anselm half-lowered his eyes, gazing at the office door, as if watching Mingfuluo’s stumbling figure.
In that mont earlier, he had, for a fleeting second, considered not telling Mingfuluo this truth, not completing the final step of this taming.
Because Mingfuluo’s earlier behavior seed sufficient, as if… there was no need to destroy her completely.
But, as expected… it couldn’t be.
The young Hydra murmured to himself, It’s as if you’re telling , look, this girl is already so obedient to you, she cares so much about you, even willing to abandon what she holds most dear. Why keep destroying her? Isn’t this enough?
Heh… hehehe…
If you’re telling this is enough, then it’s absolutely… not enough.
Mingfuluo, dear Mingfuluo, I’m so sorry.
You refused to sacrifice , but I can already sacrifice you.
And besides… I still gave you a chance.
Anselm closed his eyes, murmuring softly, “This is a fair gamble.”
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