Chapter 493: Empress of Isa

"Why did Senheiser start fighting with Belldet?"

"I heard Belldet got called a shorty."

"That's too much, isn't it? Belldet is just... not obviously tall. Is that really something to attack as a physical flaw? Besides, Senheiser towers over her. This is like fighting a fire hose from the second floor."

"Even if Belldet took offense, Senheiser didn't have to entertain the fight, right?"

"Well, Senheiser fired the first shot, but Belldet ripped into both sisters until they had no choice."

"What did she say?"

"Something along the lines of calling them relentless, double-teaming, ganging up from all sides, scheming inside and out, slick-tongued..."

Tap!

Evelyn landed lightly atop the dessert table. With a sharp stomp of her small leather boot, the entire table shattered into dust. She sprang forward, carving a streak of blue through the air to close in on Nona. In the blink of an eye, her right hand hooked toward the elf's nape.

Miracle, Wicked Crescendo!

A slick sheen suddenly spread across Nona's skin. The moment Evelyn's palm touched the back of her neck, it slid right past. Capitalizing on Evelyn's momentum instead, Nona spun in place, her long right leg sweeping out in a crescent arc like a cloud-thin razor, slashing toward the blue-haired girl!

Miracle, Combustion Burst!

Boom!

A thunderous explosion belched thick black smoke, overturning and shattering nearby dining tables!

Evelyn burst out of the smoke and landed on another table, her limbs touching down with feline grace. Her pupils had narrowed into vertical slits, her expression resembling a feral jackal or wolf. Soot smeared her once-clear azure hair, and streaks of blood stained her elegant, noble gown.

Nona waved a hand to disperse the smoke. By now, a layer of transparent oil coated her entire body. Slick, sticky oil dripped from her fingertips, her clothes, and the tips of her hair, trailing down to soak into the carpet beneath her feet.

With a low, savage growl from Evelyn, the Belldet heiress and the younger Senheiser sister clashed once more. Explosions and thunderous impacts rang out continuously. In mere moments, the banquet hall turned into something resembling a junkyard. The noise was so deafening it felt as if fireworks were detonating inside.

This was hardly surprising. Evelyn specialized in the Fist and Claw Class, yet her fighting style leaned toward the Cat type rather than the Bear type. When a Cat-type fighter got serious, turning the surroundings into a complete mess was par for the course.

The Fist and Claw Class was arguably the easiest to pick up. There was no better example of the saying, "If you have hands, you can learn it." As a result, its spirits were the most varied, and its styles the most diverse. Differences between Fist and Claw practitioners could be as vast as those between entirely distinct classes. Outsiders rarely bothered to learn these nuances and simply lumped them into four broad categories: Bear, Cat, Wolf, and Eagle.

Evelyn was a textbook Cat type. She avoided direct confrontation, excelled at mobility and ambush, and constantly sought her enemy's openings. With her style, it was only natural she'd end up tearing apart everything nearby in the process.

Nona, however, was the natural nemesis of close-combat fighters. Her specialization belonged to a derivative branch of Water Class, Oil.

It was a niche yet formidable path. Oil possessed two defining traits, namely lubrication and flammability. Pushed to their limits, these properties allowed Nona to slip away from almost every melee attack using the oil film coating her skin. In close quarters, she was practically untouchable.

Since her entire body was coated in oil, wouldn't setting her on fire be a simple counter? That was where things got tricky. The opponent didn't even need to bother. Nona would ignite the glycerin on her own skin, utilizing the flames as a deadly weapon. As for how she escaped her own inferno unscathed? The answer was obvious. Miracles.

She was a complete anomaly among Water Class practitioners, specializing in explosions, combustion, and close-quarters combat. Naturally, her battles were filled with constant detonations. Facing Evelyn, a specialist in evasive movement, the two were practically a pair of demolition incarnate.

Most guests retreated with glee, watching the chaos unfold like spectators at a show. A few felt compelled to intervene, but nearby onlookers quickly pulled them back.

"Why bother? Don't you see their own people standing back and watching?"

A closer look revealed Belldet's younger sister, Anphel, and Senheiser's family leader, Quinna, standing nearby, silently permitting this ill-timed conflict. Their reasoning was obvious. Quinna was a Sacred Realm sorcerer, so her intervention would be outright bullying. Anphel wasn't even a sorcerer, meaning sending her in would also be bullying.

That made only Nona and Evelyn, both Two-Winged sorcerers, an even match. Letting them uphold their family honor was the most appropriate course of action. The only problem was... watching them from the sidelines gave off the odd impression of summoners observing their summons fight...

Smash!

Evelyn stepped back, crushing a grand volcano cake beneath her heel. She emerged completely unharmed, while cake splattered a nearby servant. At that moment, Nona rushed in and delivered a midair kick. The glycerin on her high-heeled boot ignited instantly upon contact, producing a deafening explosion that echoed violently through the hall, shaking everyone's eardrums!

The blue-haired girl leapt like a mountain cat, clinging to a ceiling chandelier. Meanwhile, Nona swiftly distanced herself from the blast zone, casually grabbing the unlucky servant caught in their crossfire. With a flick of her arm, she hurled the oil-and-cake-covered servant away. The guests parted to create a clear flight path, allowing the unfortunate soul to roll out smoothly.

Perfect.

Nona and Evelyn exchanged a glance, ready to shift the battlefield toward other servants.

Just then, a steady, composed set of footsteps echoed through the hall.

Both of them suddenly stiffened. The spirits within their souls huddled together, trembling. The air itself grew heavy as solid lead, crushing down upon their spines.

Children dressed in exquisite formal attire streamed in through the side doors, pausing in confusion at the chaotic scene. Two Secret Guards clad in fully enclosed black armor then parted the curtains, revealing a graceful figure in a flowing violet gown, her face veiled.

In an instant, the hall fell into absolute silence.

The arrogant family leaders, financial elites, and Sacred Realm sorcerers all dropped to one knee, lowering their noble heads to welcome the arrival of the Saint with reverent stillness.

It was their first meeting. Many had long harbored ambitions to overthrow Isa and seize the throne; yet, standing before her, they found themselves unable to meet her gaze. All their soaring ambitions came crashing down in that single moment.

Was it something to do with the soul? Miracles? Or spirits?

They racked their brains trying to trace the root of their submission. They searched for something unusual, desperate to prove that her overwhelming presence was somehow an exaggeration. In the end, every line of thought converged on a chilling possibility. She had done nothing at all.

Did a cat need to move to make a mouse flee? Did the sun need to act to inspire reverence in human hearts? Did hell need to make a sound for the living to fear it?

She looked human and moved like one, yet everyone present understood that the creature seated at the head of the hall was not. The only difference between her and them was simple. She just happened to wear human skin.

That was precisely the most terrifying part. They knew she was not human, yet had no idea what hid beneath. This ambiguous unknown stirred their deepest, most instinctive dread.

"Rise."

Only then did they lift their heads. They saw her leaning lightly against the throne with her hands clasped neatly in her lap. A violet veil concealed most of her face, revealing only a pair of eyes that gleamed like brilliant emeralds. Two Secret Guards stood on either side, but everyone knew they were merely for show. The Empress needed no protection.

"There is less than an hour before the new Empress is born," she said, dropping news that tightened many hearts. "During the transition, the new Empress will need time to assume control of the Gospel and will have no leisure to attend to your needs. If you have any reasonable requests, present them now. Raine shall see them handled at once."

Raine was how the Empress referred to herself, but it was not her true name. Her real name remained a secret. This tradition originated from the peculiar mechanism of the Gospel Rankings. When announcing the Gospel's First, the list never stated the Echoer's full name. Instead, it took letters from the actual name and appended the suffix "ine."

It wasn't the Gospel hiding her identity. Rather, it was a display of favor, much like giving a pet a nickname instead of using its formal title.

Furthermore, every Empress wore a veil upon ascending the list. As a result, across the seven hundred years of the Isa Dynasty, no one had ever known an Empress's face or name. Empress of Isa was not a title for a single ruler, but a shared designation for all Empresses throughout those centuries.

The Senheisers and Belldets had originally planned to stir trouble, waiting for the Empress to question the chaos so they could argue and escalate things. But the Empress completely ignored the disorder in the hall, and they found themselves too intimidated to provoke her first.

At that moment, a little girl stepped on a squashed orange and slipped, landing with a soft thud on the carpet. She remained unhurt, but she drew a fraction of the Empress's attention.

The Empress said nothing. One of the Secret Guards beside her opened a Book of Gospel. Instantly, all the filth, dishes, debris, and broken tables in the hall lifted into the air. Servants hurried forward, tidying everything with practiced efficiency before withdrawing. The children hired to liven the banquet filed out in turn, and more servants brought in chairs.

In moments, the banquet hall had transformed into a meeting chamber.

"Be seated," the Empress said. "Time is short."

Quinna watched the servants leave and slowly sat down. She had just gathered the courage to raise her hand when an urgent voice came from behind. "Your Majesty, may I ask about my uncle, Mr. Bofys's whereabouts?"

The speaker was a Sacred Realm sorcerer from the Mercury family. As for Bofys, Quinna had seen him once many years ago. Back then, she had only been a Two-Winged sorcerer, while he was already a Legendary sorcerer proficient in the Shadow Class.

Bofys's most astonishing feat was capturing a baby Shadow Evil Dragon, enveloping it in darkness, and bringing it back into reality to successfully enslave it. Now everyone knew the Mercury family possessed a terrifyingly powerful creature. Moreover, they seemed to have derived certain methods from it to aid their Virtual World exploration, leading to a sharp increase in Two-Winged sorcerers within their ranks over the past thirty years.

"He is studying Truth in the imperial palace," the Empress replied.

Mercury pressed. "The last time he returned to the family, he left me a shadow mark. Once I activate it, he should come to me immediately, no matter where he is. Now that I've come all the way to Nabistin and activated it, why hasn't he appeared?"

"Because he no longer cares about the family, nor about you," the Empress said calmly. "This is the path of Truth chosen by all Nabistin sorcerers. To find their own truth before their lives reach an end, they must travel light and cast off all burdens."

She looked at Mercury. "This is the path of Truth, the path of Angels, the path beyond humanity, and above all, the path of solitude. From the moment Bofys left your family, you should have understood this."

Truth... Quinna sighed inwardly.

If not for her family, she might already have become a Nabistin sorcerer.

Nabistin sorcerers were not a regional term. It specifically referred to sorcerers the imperial family invited to reside in Nabistin, within the palace itself, where they continued their study of sorcery by listening to the Gospel.

Generally, only Sacred Realm sorcerers qualified for this invitation, as that realm was the absolute ceiling of their natural talent. If they wished to break through to the next level, they had no choice but to rely on the Gospel's guidance.

Over the centuries, many Sacred Realm sorcerers had successfully advanced to Legend within Nabistin, while those achieving it alone outside were exceedingly rare. After all, one path meant blind, solitary research, while the other offered round-the-clock guidance from a dedicated teacher. For sorcerers repeatedly hitting a wall at the Sacred Realm level, resisting such temptation was nearly impossible.

However, Nabistin sorcerers shared one defining trait. They severed all familial ties.

After arriving in Nabistin, Sacred Realm sorcerers quickly cut off contact with their families. Legendary sorcerers in particular accepted imperial patronage and secluded themselves deep within the palace, never emerging for the rest of their lives.

Even so, countless Sacred Realm sorcerers still flocked to accept the imperial invitation. Compared to the mundane world, the allure of magic was simply too great. Especially upon realizing there was no path forward, sorcerers were willing to pay any price just to glimpse a higher horizon.

Aside from a certain mud-born sorcerer, most Sacred Realm sorcerers were idealists with an obsessive pursuit of sorcery. Even the Sacred Realm Red Hats active outside earned Gospel Points purely to secure greater guidance from the Gospel once they retired in Nabistin.

Take Cliose, for example. Her fixation on ranking first in the National Red Hats Ranking stemmed from a simple reality. Retiring at that rank granted direct access to the palace and the Gospel, giving her an almost certain chance to ascend to Legend.

For hundreds of years, all Sacred Realm and Legendary sorcerers had come to Nabistin to spend the final stage of their lives. The only exception was Vanmura. Family bonds shackled every family leader, and even a Legendary necromancer was willing to devote an entire life to the family, regardless of whether that devotion was righteous.

Thus, all Gospel Legends now resided deep within the palace complex, studying in seclusion. No Legends remained in the outside world.

Aside from the Red Hats, the Sacred Realm sorcerers remaining outside either held attachments more important than sorcery or had yet to resolve their worldly entanglements.

In short, Mercury had no hope of relying on his family's Legendary figure.

Mercury sighed and pleaded, "Our family stands on the brink of collapse. Could you allow my uncle to meet me, just once? I only ask that he lend his aid at a critical moment to save our family from ruin."

The Empress nodded, yet she did not answer directly. Instead, she asked, "Do any of you have other requests?"

"Archibald Harvey is an extremely dangerous individual. Allowing him to live poses a serious threat to all our families. Why has he not been hunted down?"

"Ashe Heath is clearly a key figure behind the apocalyptic catastrophe. Why was his bounty revoked?"

"Why has the Gospel been so heavily influenced by Ashe Heath, to the point that nearly all future rankings in the latter half of the Woven Festival have become invalid?"

"Iger Perskin will form the Four Pillars Cult in the future. We must eliminate him immediately!"

"Why did the Gospel weave the apocalyptic scenes seen in the Art Rankings? Where was the Isa Imperial Family at that time?"

Quinna raised her hand as well, posing a sharp question. "In the Happiness Rankings, it was mentioned that the future Empress of Isa would also fall victim to Ashe Heath, to the point that her ranking was invalidated. Does this mean the next Empress is no longer qualified to wield the Gospel?"

This question was no different from forcing a direct confrontation. For a moment, no one else dared to speak.

But the Empress showed no reaction. She waited briefly, and when no further questions came, she spoke slowly, "All the questions you raised ultimately boil down to one thing, and that is whether the new Empress can continue wielding the Gospel to protect all living beings. As for that question, Raine cannot answer."

The crowd fell into stunned silence.

"Because the answer will be given by the new Empress herself," she continued. "The Gospel has already woven the best possible future. In one hour, we will step into a new era."

The best possible future?

No one could reconcile that phrase with the apocalyptic scenarios brought about by the so-called Doomsday Triad. Yet since the Empress had spoken, they were willing to wait out the hour.

At that moment, Evelyn suddenly spoke, "I heard that several dozen days ago, unrest broke out in the palace. It is said that the princess residing in the tower, the future Empress of Isa, went missing. Is that true?"

The Empress tilted her head slightly toward Evelyn. There was no emotion in her eyes, but that mere gaze was all it took for Evelyn to tense instantly, making her blue hair stand on end.

"The Gospel's First will ascend the throne within the tower," the Empress said. "The Gospel has already woven the best possible future. No one can prevent destiny from unfolding."