Chapter 120: Farewell, Your Majesty… Or Perhaps, Never Again
The wind scattered the blood like falling petals.
It stained this tranquil night in red.
A tremendous tearing sensation came from her chest, bringing excruciating pain.
Helen barely opened her violet eyes.
What entered her sight… was that crimson blade of light piercing through her chest.
It was a blade unbearably scorching, incomparably dazzling, condensed from countless rays of light.
Blazing sunlight illuminated the pitch-black sky, like the first light of dawn breaking the darkness.
Blood dripped onto the blade formed from pure radiance, and in an instant, it evaporated into steam, unable to taint even a speck of that pure brilliance.
And before that blinding blade of light, the dusk shrouding Helen’s body, the power from the "Death God" Sequence, and her authority as the ruler of the underworld...
Everything began to shatter, all obliterated into nothingness by the brilliance of the blazing sun.
That blade was forged by Sisel using the power of the "Sun" Sequence and entrusted to Rast.
It carried the full might of the strongest human of the Sixth Era.
Even with Sisel’s vast reserves, he had poured all his efforts into crafting this blade of light, such that during his recovery period, the entire Watchtower went into lockdown, and everything was kept strictly confidential from the outside world...
Because if the information that this legendary figure had fallen into weakness reached the outside—especially those taboo creatures in the ocean—it could have led to unimaginable consequences.
Only this blade, infused with a legend’s full power, was worthy of piercing all of the Queen of the Underworld’s defenses and obliterating every authority and obstacle.
In the next moment—
That blade of light, which had impaled her chest, was withdrawn.
Crimson blossoms bloomed atop the high cliff, and the scalding blood spilled down the steep precipice, most of it swallowed by the roaring sea below, vanishing in an instant.
A small amount splattered on the small slanted trees growing along the cliffside, staining the bark’s texture with a strange, eerie red.
What replaced that blade of light, now a void in her chest, was a pale, jade-like, slender hand.
It was Rast’s hand.
In his long fingers, something glowed faintly.
It resembled a chess piece, crystal-clear like jade, yet surrounded by a twilight-like radiance.
"Death God's Relic", "Remains of a God".
This was the very source of all the storms and whirlpools surrounding this small city, and around Helen herself.
Rast had indeed deceived Grey, and the members of the Shoreguard squad.
From the very beginning, this Death God’s relic had not been hidden in the palace of the royal city—it had been inside Helen’s body, fused with her heart.
This was the core that built the foundation of this nation, and precisely because of its presence, "Paradise" could endure in the real world for such a long time…
This underworld of the dead had been built from the remains of an Old God—the "Death God"—since the very beginning.
And it was because she had housed the Death God’s heart since birth that Helen had been born so powerful.
Without training, without growth or transformation, she had been able to rival legends within her domain, becoming the Queen of the Underworld with authority over death.
Rast’s long hand gently clasped that amber-yellow chess piece, pure and translucent like it was made of crystal.
“Then, farewell, Your Majesty.”
“No—”
“Or perhaps, never again.”
The black-haired youth looked down at the girl in his arms and spoke indifferently.
His pitch-black eyes were calm and deep, yet held an unshakable light.
His arms slowly opened.
Then—
The girl whose heart had been pierced by a blade, whose soul and all authority were stripped along with that chess piece… no longer had any strength to hold on.
She simply slipped away from Rast’s embrace, little by little.
Yet in that process, in the girl's violet eyes, there was not the slightest anger, despair, or hysteria from betrayal.
She just blankly stared at Rast, and in those deep violet eyes, it was as if a seal had been broken…
A flickering radiance stirred, like the swirling of a galaxy.
The girl's delicate body drew a graceful arc through the pitch-black sky.
The sensation of weightlessness came rushing in with the howling wind in her ears.
She fell from the steep cliff, and below her roared the pitch-black sea.
Time slowed, yet could not reverse.
However, in midair during her fall, Helen’s lips—drained pale from blood loss—moved slightly.
“Goodbye.”
“Classmate Rast.”
The girl’s soft murmur was swallowed by the violent sea wind, unheard by anyone.
This was not the Queen of the Underworld calling her servant.
But the top-ranked student of Starfall University, first seat of the Round Table, president of the student council… saying goodbye to Rast.
What the blade of light forged from a legend’s full strength pierced… was not only the domain and authority of the Death God, the remains of a god, or the full power of the Underworld’s queen.
Also pierced—was the sealed memory within the girl’s soul, imposed by the Nightworld.
At this moment, the seal upon her memory shattered, and the memories belonging to the Round Table's first seat "Akxia" of Starfall University were unlocked.
Surging recollections revived like tides, entwined with fragments of Queen Helen’s memories, fusing completely into one—indistinguishable forevermore.
She simply stared quietly at the ever-blurring figure of the youth atop the cliff.
Her violet eyes shimmered with light, her gaze filled with Akxia’s affection and protectiveness toward Rast…
And Helen’s longing, along with a trace of reluctance.
As if she wanted to etch the face of this black-haired, black-eyed youth into the deepest part of her soul for all eternity.
A fraction of a second later—
The icy sensation of seawater engulfed her completely.
Akxia’s body sank deeper into the sea, like falling into an abyss.
The light dimmed gradually.
The shimmering surface of the sea became unreachable, only faint glimmers of light penetrated the dark ocean, illuminating this silent world.
The seawater here was cold, cold to the marrow.
Hearing, sight, smell…
All of Akxia’s senses faded rapidly, then returned to nothing.
Only the faint silhouette of the youth on the cliff above the sea remained in her fading perception.
Now that the "Heart of the Death God"—the very source of all Akxia’s strength and power—had been taken from her…
This former queen of the underworld, whose words could once kill with a phrase, now resembled an ordinary, fragile girl.
However, just as Akxia felt the oxygen in her lungs nearing depletion, and the pain of suffocation was about to claim her life—
She suddenly sensed that at the bottom of the sea, the earth cracked open.
A light, mingling black and twilight, gently enveloped her.
Akxia’s body fell into that rift of devouring light, and her consciousness faded with it.
Dispersed into the endless darkness, destination unknown.
…
In the present world, inside the hall beside the Epoch Monument in the Arcane Tower—
The image on the light screen froze, halting at the moment Akxia fell into the deep sea, the surface light vanishing, devoured by endless black.
“This brat…”
The Dean Silver’s fluffy white tail stiffened midair.
It realized—it had popped the champagne too soon.
Clearly, it should have seen this coming.
Back when it first met Rast, it had used the "Moon of Truth" to peer into his heart.
At first glance, his inner world appeared clear and bright, like brilliant stars.
But with closer scrutiny, his soul was terrifyingly deep—like a black hole, devouring all light.
How could someone with such a mind be swayed by a fairytale atmosphere, letting sentiment affect his decisions?
And yet, for just a fleeting moment earlier, it had actually believed—fooled by the romantic air—that Rast would do something like the hero in a fairytale book.
Thinking back, it still didn’t understand Rast well enough.
“But now, we’re seriously screwed!”
Just recovering from its earlier frenzy—
A deep foreboding welled up in the Dean Silver’s mind.
“Rast, that guy… really just stabbed little Xia like that, completely ignoring all sentiment.”
“What now?”
“It was because of our request that little Xia went to the same Nightworld Remnant to help that guy.”
“But thanks to the Nightworld’s interference, it turned into a tragedy where students of Starfall University ended up killing each other.”
Although for Night Travelers in the real world, everything in the Nightworld was but shadows of the past—fragments of false history…
The experiences of Night Travelers in the Nightworld Remnants were still very real.
If a person is killed—they die.
If a Night Traveler dies in the Nightworld, they truly die.
Life is irreversible—this is the iron law of the Nightworld.
Even with highly advanced medical techniques, even if limbs can be regrown… resurrection is still beyond any known Sequence or Nightblade.
If it's to explore the Nightworld, to conquer history’s remnants, to resolve twilight disasters, and ultimately clear the root of all this chaos—then the sacrifices and deaths of Night Travelers may be justified.
After all, as members of Starfall University…
Every Night Traveler who enters the Nightworld is prepared to surrender to the night, becoming a radiant star upon the Obelisk.
But—
Not to fall to a projection in the Nightworld, or to a source of great disaster.
But to die from misunderstanding caused by twisted Nightworld rules, at the hands of a companion once trusted—
This was something neither the Dean Silver, nor Starfall University behind it, could ever accept.
“Little Snow Ferret, don’t panic.”
Unlike the Dean Silver, who was panicking and pacing in circles, ready to rush into the Nightworld—
At its side, Ophelia’s voice remained calm.
Yet when the Dean Silver looked toward her—
It suddenly noticed that the petite second princess’s fair, delicate face was tinged with a faint, unnatural blush.
“Little Snow Ferret, do you really think a guy who could gain my sister’s approval would be a clueless idiot?”
“Same face as the Akxia we met in reality, same Sequence, same abilities.”
“Even the deadly word-based spells, and that habit of writing instead of speaking—exactly the same.”
“If it were only the face, we could chalk it up to coincidence or blood relation.”
“But so many similarities in personality and daily habits… if we still claim it's coincidence, just fooling ourselves—”
“Then Rast wouldn’t be worthy of becoming my brother-in-law.”
Ophelia’s wine-red eyes shimmered with strange brilliance.
The flush on her porcelain doll-like face deepened, as if drunk.
“Miss Akxia failed to notice because her memories in this world were sealed.”
“But Rast is different.”
“He noticed the unnatural resemblance between Queen Helen and Miss Akxia. He must have suspected their connection… yet he still chose this path.”
“That proves he had already resolved himself—to bear all the consequences.”
Pale silver light shimmered in Ophelia’s eyes like arcs of electricity.
Calculation matrices surfaced, spun, and vanished in her gaze—ever flickering.
The next moment, on the screen before them—
The image, frozen in darkness, flickered again.
At first, it was just blurry shadows.
But soon, the flickering stabilized, transforming into a clear image.
No longer Akxia’s first-person view—
But a perspective from the peak.
The black-haired, black-eyed youth stood holding the crystal chess piece, gazing down the cliff at the pitch-dark tide devouring all.
The moment Akxia fell from the cliff, Ophelia had triggered her contingency embedded within the recording crystal.
She split a secondary crystal, affixing it atop the cliff.
Switching the original first-person view of Akxia into a fixed angle, anchoring the lens on the cliff wall.
“There’s still another master player?”
The Dean Silver glanced at Ophelia, flicking its tail in surprise.
This little girl’s depth of thought always exceeded its expectations—completely unlike her sister.
But soon, the Dean Silver’s attention returned to the screen.
Even though the heroine had exited the stage, it could still watch the next act of this love drama.
Perfect—
It, too, wanted to see—
What kind of resolution Rast had already made…
And what that resolution truly meant.