Taming the Protagonist

Chapter 109 (2)

This towering steel deity seemed so small beneath this colossal sword, and the sword, compared to the fire curtain spanning thousands of miles, was utterly insignificant.

Yet the sky toward which this sword’s tip pointed, the sky covered by the Flame-Feasting fire… cracked!

No—it was the Flame-Feasting fire itself, annihilated beneath the sword’s edge piercing the heavens!

At this moment, Ephithand remained dazed.

She was dazed that Flamel had not truly appeared, yet she still hadn’t managed to defeat Anselm.

She was dazed that her daughter had so thoroughly betrayed her, not yet at the sixth tier, yet capable of briefly contending with her power.

Dazed that… as a divine species, her dignity and status had been trampled repeatedly, that powerless punch completely shattering her sanity.

Of course, all of this rested on one crucial premise—Ephithand was already nearly completely mad.

And in her attempt to use Anselm’s preaching to glimpse the path to the seventh tier, she had been secretly undermined by fate, suffering unknown wounds.

Under these compounding factors, what little remained of Ephithand’s “self” was like a candle flickering in the wind.

Looking down at the motionless Ephithand, Anselm’s eyes held neither mocking pity nor pure hostility.

He felt no pity because, in the past, he hadn’t been so different from Ephithand; he harbored no hostility because he had never considered such a being his opponent.

His true opponent lay higher, in a place no one could fathom.

"Arlo, I told you earlier, the one I trust most isn’t you, right?"

"What?" Mingfuluo tilted her head slightly, "Are you trying to make me jealous?

I don’t have such superfluous emotions."

"No, I just wanted to tell you… back then, I trusted Hit even less."

The thrusters pushed forward again, and the sky-cleaving blade transformed once more.

Its edge split from the center, extending outward on both sides, forming a massive groove in the middle.

It was almost like… a cannon barrel.

Buzz!!

A white light piercing the blood-flame shot skyward from the cannon-like groove!

If the endless iron-gray particles sought to perish alongside the Flame-Feasting fire, this blazing celestial light was what truly overwhelmed it!

"I distrusted her so much that I didn’t truly make her my Contract Head the first time."

Mingfuluo thought for a moment, then said firmly, "That’s definitely your fault."

"It was indeed my fault." Anselm couldn’t help but laugh, "Looking back now, it was a somewhat absurd, somewhat… childish problem."

"Hm… so what?"

"So I wanted to tell you, I’m growing too."

Anselm looked at Mingfuluo, and Mingfuluo looked back at him, at the sea-blue hue she loved most.

She had never felt… that sea-blue so radiant.

"So now, I trust you completely, without reservation."

"If I’d done all this and you still didn’t trust me, I’d strangle you first."

Mingfuluo said calmly, though her hand did pinch the back of Anselm’s.

The sky full of iron-gray particles and floating cannons dealt with the falling fire rain, while the steel deity wielding the giant sword gathered its final strength.

"But you still said I fall short of Hitana, that I’m not the ‘best.’

So… where do I fall short?"

"The old me might not have realized this, but thanks to you… I see it now."

Anselm gazed at Mingfuluo’s calm face, saying softly:

"Arlo, have you ever truly lived for yourself?"

"I’ve definitely—"

Mingfuluo opened her mouth but couldn’t finish her words.

Truly… lived for herself?

"Three years ago, at eighteen, in those eighteen years of life, you worked toward the blueprint Erlin designed for you, never considering your own feelings."

"Now, three years later, at twenty-one, you’re sacrificing everything for me—your body, your soul."

"…It’s worth it."

Mingfuluo answered calmly, "The former was because Grandfather gave me hope in life.

The latter is because you gave me meaning in life… I have every reason—"

"You have no reason to do this." Anselm interrupted her, looking straight into her eyes, "What Erlin gave you wasn’t hope—it was shackles."

"And the meaning I gave you… I’m glad you think that way, Arlo."

"But because of that, you should value meaning, value living itself, not think that blindly sacrificing for me will give you the value and meaning of life."

"Tell me, Arlo."

Anselm asked, "Is all you want in your heart to chase ideals, to die for me?"

"Of course not!"

"If not, then what is it?"

Mingfuluo wasn’t one to linger in confusion.

Without Anselm’s influence, she could have freed herself from the truth of Erlin’s death, could have found firm belief in the emptiness of life, just as Anselm had resolved himself after recalling what Elnilisa had once told him.

"I want… together."

Mingfuluo murmured softly, "I want to be with you, to see the new world arrive."

"I want to be with you."

She repeated softly, her magnificent purple eyes growing brighter.

"To see this world with you… become vibrant."

Chasing ideals wasn’t about grand narratives or lofty visions; it was simply that young child wanting to see the world become better, more colorful.

Wanting to save Anselm was because she wished to stay by the side of the one who changed her life, who made her understand what it meant to live.

A gentle smile spread across Anselm’s face.

He gripped Mingfuluo’s hand tightly, saying no more.

He realized that what he shared with Mingfuluo wasn’t just childhood suffering or a false life.

It was also the numbness after enduring long pain, forgetting their former selves, forgetting… to truly live for themselves.

Mingfuluo had saved him, so this time, it was his turn to pull her from that numbing abyss.

Not for me, Arlo—you must live for yourself.

"But I…" Mingfuluo still held a trace of confusion, "But I don’t know how to do it, how to move forward."

"I don’t know either."

Anselm smiled, extending his hand to Mingfuluo, "So, shall we do it together?"

Mingfuluo’s eyes flickered slightly.

"Stupid kid."

She sighed softly, placing Anselm’s hand on the control lever.

Her own hand reached around, gripping the other side, their fingers intertwining as they held the lever together, their hands locked tightly.

"Drop the ‘shall.’" Miss Mingfuluo lifted her chin slightly, "Say it again, with certainty."

The Deus Ex Machina’s power had reached its peak.

The blazing light blade piercing the heavens, with the thrusters’ slow push, descended upon the mortal world with a transcendent might that made all onlookers nearly kneel in awe!

"Then let’s do it together, Arlo."

"You couldn’t shake me off anyway," Mingfuluo replied, her hand still gripping tightly, refusing to let go.

At that moment, Anselm, feeling the warmth in his right hand, suddenly felt a small hand tugging at his left.

"An…selm…"

A voice filled with resentment and a touch of pitiful grievance echoed in the cockpit, "What about me?"

It was Hitana, who had been sleeping soundly by Anselm’s leg.

She had woken up, and though it wasn’t clear how much she’d heard, she looked like an abandoned puppy, clinging to Anselm’s knee, appearing utterly wronged.

"Did the intense elemental fluctuations of the Deus Ex Machina wake you?" Mingfuluo looked at Hitana, "I thought you were too exhausted to be disturbed."

"…"

Hitana stared at Mingfuluo for a long while but, astonishingly, didn’t bristle at all.

She simply continued looking at Anselm with a pitiful gaze.

Anselm, somewhat amused, took Hitana’s hand, guiding her to mirror the same posture, their fingers tightly interlocked, grasping the other side of the control lever.

“I’m always within your reach, Hit, have you forgotten?”

Hearing this, Hitana’s face flushed red; she reached out to touch the patterns on her collar, the phrase “Devote My Love” making her grip Anselm’s hand tightly, equally unwilling to let go.

“So… I want to be together too!”

Despite her extreme weakness, Hitana’s eyes sparkled as she declared this.

Holding the hands of both girls, Anselm gazed at the blood-flame curtain that seemed on the verge of completely collapsing; never had he felt so filled with strength, with courage.

Filled… with resolve.

The control lever, under the combined effort of the three, was slowly pushed to its limit, and the entire frame of the Deus Ex Machina surged to an even higher level of power output at that moment!

The moment that blazing celestial light slashed down from the heavens, the entire sky, the entire fire curtain, was split in two!

All Flame-Feasting fire it touched was utterly annihilated under this supreme destruction; when that radiant light reached the skies above the Imperial Capital, entire streets melted instantly under its brilliance; the dazed Ephithand looked up at this seemingly collapsing pillar of blazing light, her eyes flickering for a moment.

She sensed… danger.

As a divine species, she actually sensed danger from these mongrels, these inexplicable beings?

“I am the Flame-Feasting destined to reach the seventh tier, to surpass the abyss, to transcend all as the eternal monarch!”

This sense of danger didn’t frighten Ephithand but instead made her feel… humiliated.

“How dare you… how dare you make me feel threatened! Only divine species are worthy of being my opponents, you wretched… traitors!”

Her roar pierced the clouds; a towering pillar of fire enveloping her radiated a presence at least a thousand, a hundredfold more ferocious than before!

“This!”

Hitana’s eyes widened: “How can she still be this powerful!”

“She burned away the last of her suppression with the Flame-Feasting fire… she’s returned to the sixth tier, the true sixth tier.”

Though he said this, Anselm showed no trace of panic.

“She seemed to be in a daze earlier…” Mingfuluo frowned slightly, “Was she actually wearing down your suppression over her?”

“Perhaps,” Anselm chuckled lightly, “but our Empress didn’t anticipate…”

The young Hydra, in sync with Mingfuluo’s coordination, channeled all his power alongside the Deus Ex Machina, pouring it entirely into the giant blade that cleaved the heavens!

“We were… waiting for this moment!”

“Seventh tier, the Empire, everything…”

In Ephithand’s eyes, the last shred of what could be called rationality vanished.

From a state slightly free of the abyss’s influence, she surged back to the sixth tier, recklessly unleashing such immense power; the endless world information and eternal abyssal erosion had obliterated all her sanity.

The mad Empress laughed hysterically: “Destroy it all… destroy! Worthless things… trash that can’t elevate me… all of it… annihilated!”

The blazing celestial light at the center of the giant blade had descended to Ephithand’s head; the entire Imperial Capital, the land within the blade’s range, was split in two before even touching the edge!

No, not just the Imperial Capital, but the entire landmass Ephithand had raised into the sky.

Even the earth below was carved with a chasm stretching to the horizon, endless, perhaps tens of thousands of meters or more—a celestial abyss!

Yet this light pillar… stopped one meter above Ephithand’s head.

The steel deity gripping the giant blade couldn’t press the edge down any further, for the only four true divine beings in this world… were simply inviolable.

Countless transcendent onlookers watching this scene held their breath.

Was it over?

Was the Empress’s majesty truly unchallengeable?

Did Hydra… that young Hydra, have any more moves?

“Hehehe… hahahahaha! Trying to kill me with this little toy? Kill me with it? Anselm… you child, haven’t you grown up?”

Ephithand’s expression was utterly deranged, her twisted smile and demeanor chilling to the bone; she didn’t counterattack after freezing the Deus Ex Machina’s blade but spread her arms, letting the blood-flame… truly set the sky ablaze!

The night sky, unbelievably… was burned away into daylight!

“This is my power… this is my power! I can erase the night and turn it into day, I can burn the entire continent to ashes… the Lost Sea, the sky, the Zero Point Labyrinth, everything is my kindling, my nourishment! Including you, Anselm… you were supposed to be mine, you are mine!”

In the sky, a thousand-meter hand of blood-flame reached for the Deus Ex Machina; Ephithand, her eyes twisted and crimson with madness, shrieked: “I want your power, give it to me—”

Suddenly, the blood-flame hand froze in midair, then in a mere instant—truly just an instant—it, along with countless blood-flames, dissipated entirely.

Then, an even more piercing scream echoed over the Imperial Capital.

A patch of blood-flame, unremarkable compared to Ephithand’s sky-covering, night-erasing blood-flame, burned on her body.

Yet this blood-flame caused Ephithand to scream in abject agony and it grew fiercer, soon engulfing her entirely.

“This is…” Mingfuluo paused slightly, “Why is she—”

“As a purely human divine species, Flame-Feasting is the most complex existence.”

Anselm said calmly: “Born as an emperor, they feel the thrill of dominating all things more than anyone.

Thus… Flame-Feasting is prone to selfishness, determined to survive at all costs, like Ephithand.”

“That is… they are the least likely to follow the proper path of legacy.”

“So, why has Flame-Feasting been passed down so perfectly through generations?

Of course, because they have their own ultimate limiting mechanism.”

The young Hydra turned his gaze to the second sun above the Imperial Capital.

That eternal, unextinguishing Source Flame of the Flame-Feasting.

“Before their end, Flame-Feasting Emperors throw themselves into the Source Flame; the Crown absorbs the previous generation’s power, then transfers it to the next Emperor.

In other words, the Source Flame itself is stronger than the Emperor, for it is the origin of Flame-Feasting power.”

“And when an Emperor’s sanity completely collapses, fully eroded by the abyss…”

Anselm narrowed his eyes, watching Ephithand scream in agony as she was consumed by the flames, murmuring softly:

“The Source Flame will… actively reclaim their power, ensuring Flame-Feasting’s legacy endures.”

Mingfuluo fully understood: “So, this was your true plan, to drive Ephithand to this utterly deranged state, letting the Source Flame kill her?”

“Only a divine species can kill a divine species.”

Anselm said, giving Mingfuluo a half-smiling look: “Since my dear Arlo didn’t give me that chance, I had to find another way.”

“You couldn’t possibly think a Fantasy Armament could truly rival a divine species’s power, could you?”

“…I know.”

Mingfuluo said, though she seemed somewhat reluctant.

In this battle, how many debuffs had been stacked on Ephithand?

First, her mental instability, struck a critical blow by fate while glimpsing the path to ascension, possibly affected by the negative influence of Abyss Preaching; then, Anselm forcibly suppressed her rank to between fifth and sixth tier, coupled with Ivora’s restrictions in Ether Armament; Hitana’s timely arrival, a punch shattering Ephithand’s sanity and dignity… under all these conditions, this Fantasy Armament, capable of conquering continents, could only go toe-to-toe with her.

And when Ephithand fully reclaimed her power, it instantly outmatched them.

“With such risks and burdens,” Mingfuluo clutched her chest, frowning, “the gap still seems endless.”

“Do you regret stopping me now?”

“…Hmph, do you regret it?”

Anselm just smiled, saying nothing.

Hitana, completely lost in their conversation, tilted her head: “So, she’s done for?”

“According to Anselm, she should be,” Mingfuluo said, watching Ephithand, now unable to even scream as she was consumed by the Source Flame, thoughtfully adding, “But…”

“But, if we follow fate’s trajectory—”

Anselm began, and in the next second, Ephithand, burning in the Source Flame, suddenly raised her head.

Trembling, she aimed at the Deus Ex Machina, seemingly intent on taking Anselm and the others with her before dying, startling Hitana.

But in an instant, Ephithand, now a figure of fire, her body gradually incinerated, abruptly shifted her target… to her daughter.

Ivora had fled far after Ephithand took Hitana’s punch, knowing her mother would descend into complete madness, and she had guessed Anselm’s true plan then.

She watched the utterly deranged Ephithand from afar, overjoyed as she was consumed by the Source Flame.

Once Ephithand was burned to nothing, her Crown would be within reach!

Yet who could have imagined that Ephithand, utterly mad and being destroyed by the Source Flame, would lock onto Ivora in an instant!

By the time Ivora reacted, it was too late.

For at that moment, Ephithand was still… a supreme divine species.

Just as the Source Flame ignited all of her, Ephithand, in that instant, before Ivora could escape through a spatial leap, planted an unextinguishing flame on her.

Then, enveloped in the Source Flame, Ephithand turned into a streak of light, burning as she flew eastward.

“…Ephithand and Ivora, both dead.”

Anselm sighed softly: “In the end, it’s as He wished.”

Mingfuluo looked eastward: “Was this part of fate’s original script?”

“Yes, a rather crucial part of His script.”

Mingfuluo fell silent.

After a long pause, she said:

“So… if, I mean if, you had truly inherited Flamel’s power, it wouldn’t just be about power—you’d have essentially shattered fate’s entire script?”

“Obviously,” Anselm said with a chuckle, “Do I seem like someone who’d force my father to his death just for power?”

Hitana looked left, then right, unsure what to say.

What in the world had happened while she was gone?

Looking at the silent Mingfuluo, Anselm reached out, gently ruffling her hair, and said warmly: “Don’t overthink, Arlo.

I told you, you helped me make the right choice.”

“But you… but I made you lose the chance to defeat Him.”

“So,” Anselm smiled, “do you think I lost?”

At that moment, the landmass Ephithand had raised into the sky was being barely stabilized by all the fifth-tier sorcerers in the Imperial Capital, slowly descending.

Meanwhile, every fifth-tier transcendent in the Imperial Capital, and indeed the entire Empire, focused their attention on one thing.

That steel deity floating in the air, that… monster capable of contending with the Empress.

What would it do next?

What were the intentions of the young Hydra controlling it?

Where had the current Hydra gone…?

The transcendents had countless questions, and the answers to these would determine their next choices.

Soon, the young Hydra’s figure appeared on the shoulder of the Deus Ex Machina.

This should have been the moment to proclaim to all transcendents, to declare his stance, his majesty, his power.

But Anselm didn’t.

He merely leaned against the Deus Ex Machina’s shoulder plate, looking up at the sky.

That was where the Notun floated; his gaze seemed to pierce through layers of barriers, through different spaces, finally resting… on the flower field where his parents slept.

“Arlo, He did succeed again.”

Anselm said softly, head tilted upward: “He kept me from gaining power early, ensured Ephithand and Ivora followed their original paths, and plunged the entire situation into the chaos He most wanted to see.”

The Empress was effectively dead, but the only one capable of inheriting her power, the Grand Princess, was also uncertain of life or death; Flamel was in slumber, and he hadn’t inherited his father’s power.

The entire Empire… no longer had any overt, true sixth-tier combat strength.

Undoubtedly, the Empire would descend into true, utter turmoil and chaos, and such chaos was the prelude and beginning of a great transformation.

Fate had won this round perfectly, as always, calculating everything without error.

“But I don’t think I lost, Arlo.”

He pulled Hitana and Mingfuluo close, embracing both girls gently, speaking with utter calm and satisfaction:

“On the contrary, I’ve never felt… so satisfied, so fulfilled with a victory.”

To live, to defeat Him.

Not to have nothing left after defeating Him.

Father, Mother, Hit, Arlo… and in the future, more, more reasons to live.

These were why I must defeat Him.

Anselm didn’t win this time, but he overcame… the death trap fate had laid for six years.

In the future, Anselm might still have to commit evil to defeat fate, continuing to act as a villain.

But he would no longer sacrifice everything, destroy everything, just to challenge fate.

So Anselm won—he defeated the devil fate had created in his heart.

Standing atop the Deus Ex Machina, Anselm gazed at the rising sun in the distance, tightly holding the hands of those beside him.

The dawn fell upon his shoulders.

That was the kiss of freedom, the light of transformation.

In the North, at Tianlu Tower.

“So…”

At the conference table, a man raised his hand: “Our Empress is now of uncertain fate?”

“She’s as good as dead,” someone grinned, “Her power will inevitably be reclaimed by the Source Flame.”

“And… Her Highness Ivora was attacked by Her Majesty before escaping?”

“Yes.”

“Also as good as dead?”

“That’s more uncertain…” someone rubbed their chin, “If Her Highness Ivora can hold out until Her Majesty’s power is reclaimed by the Source Flame, she might still have a chance.”

A young sorcerer at the table scoffed: “The Source Flame to the Empress is no different from the Empress to the Grand Princess—one touch, certain death. I don’t see what’s worth discussing here.”

“No one saw either of them actually die. Do you want to face a divine being’s reckoning years from now?”

The initially calm discussion in the meeting room grew heated, but the elderly man in the chairman’s seat remained silent, eyes closed, resting.

Polynea, Hitana’s former mentor and a high-ranking member of the Revolutionary Army known as “Professor,” clenched her fists. After hesitating for a long time, she suddenly stood and spoke loudly:

“Everyone, please listen to me!”

“…”

The arguing subsided, and all eyes turned to the standing woman.

Polynea’s heart pounded, but she forced her voice to steady as she spoke:

“This is the greatest moment of change since the Empire’s founding.”

“With two divine species gone or silent, their legacy severed… it means the Empire will no longer see sixth-tier divine species.”

“This is our chance, the best chance. The North’s resources are the most scarce. If we don’t seize the initiative, we’ll be constrained at every turn… the rebels’ momentum will only grow stronger. If we don’t act decisively now, the consequences will be unimaginable.”

As Polynea slowly articulated her thoughts, her voice grew firmer:

“The era of divine species is over. We must seize power for ourselves. In this tide of change, we either advance or perish.”

Advance or perish.

Hearing this, the Grand Duke of Gray Tower opened his eyes, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

“Ladies and gentlemen.”

He smiled at the high-ranking members of Tianlu Tower: “What do you think of Professor Polynea’s proposal?”

At that moment, all the windows in the meeting room suddenly opened, and a biting cold wind howled in.

The scholars present were unaffected by the chill, but in each other’s eyes, they saw the vast snow and the coming storm.

“Seconded.”

After a long pause, one person raised their hand.

“Seconded.” “Seconded.” “Seconded.”

Of the twenty seats, sixteen seconded the motion, two opposed, and two abstained.

When the divine beings perched above fell from their thrones, when the power that could annihilate them was no more…

Ambition swelled, and greed became insatiable.

“Then, I declare…”

The Grand Duke of Gray Tower removed his glasses, his aged, cloudy eyes now sharp as a hawk’s, piercing and unyielding.

“The proposal for uniting with Grand Duke Ironblade to declare the North’s independence is officially passed.”

“The rest… leave to me.”

He struck his cane heavily on the ground, his aged voice brimming with pride and fervor, overpowering the snowstorm.

On March 11, 1108 of the Imperial Calendar, thirty-six days after the [Day of Calamitous Fire].

The Grand Duke of Gray Tower and Grand Duke Ironblade issued a joint statement.

The North declared its secession from the Empire, formally independent.

***

In the West Kingdom, at the Barren Dragon Valley, the Dragon Tongue Grand Duke’s residence.

“So, you’re saying our great creator, Lord Flamel… just vanished without a trace.”

On an expansive balcony, the Dragon Tongue Grand Duke, lounging in a chair with a drink, casually stroked a young dragon lying beside him: “Alive or dead, unknown?”

“If Lord Hydra were still alive, he would never have let Lord Anselm fight the Empress in his place.”

Behind him, a “dragonkin” with fleshy wings at their waist, scaly beast-like limbs, and large patches of black scales covering their body, bowed and replied: “Though we found no trace of Lord Flamel, he… likely perished for some reason.”

“So, still just speculation?”

The Dragon Tongue Grand Duke tilted his head back, muttering to himself: “One after another, alive or dead, no clear answers. Why the young Hydra didn’t inherit Lord Flamel’s power is also unknown.”

The man shook his head: “He’s a… dangerous figure. Let’s keep observing for now.”

“But according to intelligence, Grand Duke Blood Dust is already stirring.”

“Just Blacher alone? That doesn’t add up.”

The Dragon Tongue Grand Duke stood and leaned against the balcony’s railing:

“Blacher, Rolain, Namo…”

He softly recited the names of the other three Grand Dukes of the West Kingdom, his expression growing colder:

“This situation suits their tastes perfectly. Chaos, disorder, no supreme oppressor… hmph.”

The man swirled the liquor in his glass, his amber dragon-like vertical pupils gleaming with disdain and contempt.

“They’ll soon start scrambling like hyenas.”

“…Grand Duke, this is your opportunity,” the black-scaled dragonkin earnestly advised, “Without the Empress’s restraint, if you could unify the West Kingdom—”

“No.”