Chapter 497 --497
The System had already suffered through that specific nightmare in a previous world. Even as a being made of pure data, the phantom trauma of being violently pummeled by its own Host for a "subpar scalp massage" was burned permanently into its hard drive.
It wisely decided that staying absolutely silent was the best way to preserve its digital life.
Back in the physical world, Heena let out a slow, steadying breath, burying the spike of pain behind her iron will. She looked down at the Ninth Prince, who was still trembling on the ground, trying and failing to push himself up.
"I am waiting, Your Highness," Heena said aloud, her voice echoing mercilessly across the courtyard. "Are you going to lay there in the dirt, or are you going to start your push-ups?"
The Ninth Prince gritted his teeth, tears of sheer humiliation mixing with the dirt and sweat on his face. He pressed his blistered palms against the scorching stone courtyard and tried to push himself up.
His arms trembled so violently it looked like his bones were vibrating. With a pathetic, wheezing groan, he managed to lift his chest exactly two inches off the ground.
"One," Heena counted, her voice flat and entirely unimpressed.
Before the boy could even attempt a second push-up, his arms completely gave out. He slammed face-first back into the stone, his nose smacking against the ground with a dull thud. He let out a muffled sob, refusing to lift his head.
"Is that it?" Heena mocked, casually tapping the toe of her boot against his ribs. "Two inches? I have seen injured turtles move with more explosive power than you. Get up."
"I... I can’t!" the boy wailed into the dirt, entirely stripped of his royal dignity. "My arms are completely dead! If you want to kill me, just do it!"
Heena looked down at the sobbing prince, and then discreetly pressed two fingers against her own temple. The blinding pain behind her eyes was beginning to pulse in rhythm with her heartbeat. The painkillers were wearing off faster than she had anticipated, and she had absolutely zero desire to stand in the blazing sun baby-sitting a crying teenager any longer.
She had already shattered his ego and established absolute dominance. The first phase of the Vanguard’s psychological warfare was complete.
"Listen closely, Your Highness, because I will only say this once," Heena said, her voice dropping the sarcastic edge and turning terrifyingly cold.
The Prince stopped sobbing, instinctively holding his breath.
"Today, you failed," Heena stated, stepping over his prone body. "You failed to swing a piece of wood, you failed to lift your own body weight, and you failed to act like a man who is supposed to have the blood of dragons in his veins. But the Vanguard does not kill its recruits on the first day."
She looked around at the kneeling, terrified servants. "Someone fetch His Highness a bucket of water. If he wants to lie in the dirt like a beaten dog for the rest of the day, that is his choice."
Heena looked back down at the trembling boy. "I will return tomorrow at dawn. You will be standing in this courtyard, fully dressed in proper, lightweight training clothes—not these ridiculous, heavy silks. And you will attempt your one thousand swings again. If you are late, or if you complain..."
She leaned down slightly. "...I will have my shadow guards drag you out of your bed by your ankles and I will beat you with the wooden sword myself. Do you understand me?"
The Ninth Prince squeezed his eyes shut and gave a frantic, jerky nod against the stone.
"Good," Heena said, straightening up. She didn’t offer a bow, a farewell, or a single glance backward as she turned on her heel and strode out of the courtyard.
The eunuchs and maids scrambled out of her way as if the god of death herself were walking past them. No one dared to breathe until the deep wine-colored hem of her robe disappeared entirely from sight.
The walk back through the Imperial Palace felt like an eternity.
Heena kept her posture impeccably straight, her chin held high, and her fox-like eyes sharp and unyielding. She passed several high-ranking ministers and noble concubines on the main pathways. All of them immediately stopped and bowed their heads, thoroughly intimidated by the suffocating aura of the Vanguard heir.
She didn’t acknowledge a single one of them. She just kept walking, forcing her boots to maintain a steady, military rhythm.
By the time she finally reached the outer gates where her unmarked luxury carriage was waiting, a cold sweat had broken out across the back of her neck.
The elite shadow guards immediately snapped to attention, opening the heavy wooden door of the carriage for her. Heena stepped inside, her movements perfectly smooth, and pulled the door completely shut.
The exact millisecond the latch clicked into place, sealing her away from the outside world, her flawless mask completely shattered.
Heena collapsed into the plush velvet cushions with a ragged gasp. She violently grabbed her own head, curling her knees to her chest as a blinding, white-hot spike of agony tore through her skull. It felt as if someone had driven a burning iron spike directly behind her eyes.
’[Host!]’ the System panicked, popping into existence on the opposite seat. Its digital avatar flickered erratically, alarmed by the sudden spike in her vitals. ’[Your blood pressure is dangerously high! The chemical toxicity from the painkillers is attacking your nervous system!]’
Heena couldn’t even formulate a verbal response. She just pressed the heels of her hands hard into her eyes, gritting her teeth so tightly she tasted copper. The darkness of the sealed carriage was a small mercy, blocking out the harsh sunlight that was actively burning her retinas.
She blindly reached out with one trembling hand, fumbling for the small wooden cabinet built into the carriage wall.
’[Host, do not take another painkiller!]’ the System warned frantically. ’[If you take another dose this soon, your liver will literally start shutting down within the week!]’
"I’m not... taking a pill..." Heena wheezed through gritted teeth.
She managed to yank the third drawer open. With shaking fingers, she grabbed one of her grandfather’s custom-made sour-spicy candies and aggressively shoved it into her mouth.
The intense, mouth-puckering sourness hit her tongue instantly, followed by a violent explosion of chili spice. The overwhelming sensory shock of the candy acted like a harsh slap to the face, forcibly grounding her nervous system and distracting her brain from the agonizing throbbing in her skull.
She leaned her head back against the cushions, panting heavily as the spicy heat burned her throat.
"Tell the driver..." Heena whispered weakly, keeping her eyes squeezed shut. "Drive fast. I want to go home."
Outside, the shadow guards, completely unaware of the absolute agony their young Madam was enduring inside the luxury box, cracked the reins. The heavy carriage rolled smoothly away from the Imperial Palace, leaving a completely traumatized Ninth Prince and a deeply suspicious Empress in its wake.
The carriage ride back to the Marcuset estate was a blur of agonizing, silent endurance.