The air inside the Library was somewhat stifling.
Leila slowly and methodically fastened the last button on her collar, her movements as elegant as if she had just finished conducting a grand symphony. She glanced at Bell, who stood by the desk, a trace of post-satisfaction languor in her eyes, her almost pathological thirst for knowledge finally having been somewhat sated.
“The theoretical construction is complete.”
Leila walked up behind Bell, her fingertip hovering near the back of his neck without actually touching him.
“Now, you should be able to hear the voice flowing within your blood.”
Bell raised his hand.
No incantation was uttered, and no magic array was constructed.
With merely a thought.
A single drop of blood from his fingertip defied gravity and floated upward. It stretched and deformed in mid-air, finally transforming into a blood needle as fine as a cow's hair.
It was a strange sensation.
It felt as if he had grown an extra limb. Blood was no longer just a life-sustaining liquid; it had become a solid extension that he could manipulate at will.
“So this is the essence of blood magic?” Bell clenched his fist, and the blood needle instantly collapsed back into liquid, soaking into his pores. “It’s more... obedient than I imagined.”
“Naturally.” Leila smoothed her skirt, resuming her usual unapproachable posture as the First Ancestor.
One after the other, they walked out of the Library, crossed the long corridor, and pushed open the doors to the side palace.
Lilian was sitting on the massive circular bed, clutching a pillow. Feathers were scattered all over the floor, torn from its casing.
When she saw the two enter—especially seeing Leila’s “refreshed” appearance—the corner of Lilian’s eye twitched violently.
“Get out!”
Lilian grabbed the pillow and hurled it at them.
“This is my bedroom! Not a place for your indecent behavior!”
Bell stepped aside to avoid the pillow, his expression blank.
Leila, however, simply waved her hand, and the pillow was torn to shreds in mid-air by an invisible force.
“Watch your words, little Queen,” Leila said coldly. “I was imparting knowledge. This was a sacred academic exchange.”
“Does academic exchange require unbuttoning your clothes?!” Lilian shrieked.
Before Leila could retort, a sudden clamor of footsteps came from the doorway.
“Oh boy, my little ancestor, what’s wrong now?”
Ed’s lazy voice rang out. Immediately after, seven or eight ancestors filed into the room.
Betty was still gnawing on half a beef leg, asking through a mouthful of meat, “I heard you trashed Leila’s room? Should we kill a few nobles to liven things up?”
The originally spacious bedroom suddenly became cramped and crowded.
This group of old monsters, who had lived for thousands of years, were now acting like gossipy neighbors watching a young couple fight, their eyes darting between Bell, Lilian, and Leila with intense curiosity.
Lilian’s face turned the color of a beet.
Her dignity as Queen vanished completely in that moment.
“Everyone, shut up.”
Leila suddenly took a step forward.
A terrifying pressure radiated from her, instantly sweeping through the entire room.
It was the absolute authority of the First Ancestor.
“This is the Queen’s private business.” Leila’s gaze was as cold as a blade as it swept over every ancestor present. “If anyone looks one more time, I’ll gouge their eyes out and soak them in wine.”
Ed shrugged and raised his hands in surrender.
“Fine, fine, you’re the boss. Whatever you say.”
He turned and kicked Betty, who was still chewing on the beef leg. “Let’s go. Stop watching, or you’ll get a stye.”
The group of ancestors left as quickly as they had arrived.
The room fell back into a deathly silence.
Leila turned around and looked at Lilian, her tone indifferent. “By sunset tomorrow, I will have the solution to counteract the backlash of the Blood Dance Tattoo on your desk.”
Having said that, she didn’t even glance at Bell before walking straight out of the room.
Only before that man would she ever lower her head. As for the others, even the titular Queen was not worth her breath.
Bell walked to the window, looking out at the two eerie purple moons.
“Tomorrow.”
Bell’s voice was soft but clear.
“Tomorrow, I’ll help you solve the problem with the mark.”
Lilian bit her lip, staring intently at Bell’s back. She wanted to ask what had really happened, wanted to ask if he and Leila had actually... but the words caught in her throat.
She was the Queen.
She couldn’t question him like a jilted woman.
Bell ignored the gaze behind him. His mind was racing, constructing another chessboard.
Cecilia.
That crazy sister of his.
Reasonably, the news of him being captured and taken to Moon Phase City should have been enough to drive her mad. With her personality, she should have charged in with a blade long ago.
Yet now, everything was calm.
Why?
Bell’s finger lightly tapped the windowsill.
There was only one explanation.
In Cecilia’s eyes, the current “Bell” was no longer the “brother” she wanted.
She wanted to restart the world.
She wanted to return to the starting point of everything, to the “first loop Bell” who would still blush at her and die to protect her.
Therefore, whether this life’s Bell lived or died might no longer be that important to her.
As long as it didn’t interfere with her plan to restart the world.
“Heh.”
Bell let out an extremely faint, cold laugh.
Since you don’t think much of this life’s script...
Then I’ll just have to perform this script until you’re forced to watch.
...
At a corner in the corridors of the Night Rose Palace.
Leila hadn’t walked far when a figure in a Lolita-style dress blocked her path.
The Fourth Ancestor, Elizabeth.
She held a stuffed bear in her arms, a look of innocent playfulness on her face, yet her eyes were as venomous as a snake’s.
“Oh my, isn’t this our noble sister Leila?”
Elizabeth tilted her head, her voice so sickly sweet it was nauseating.
“What’s this? Just finished your ‘private tutoring session’?”
She placed a deliberate emphasis on the words “private tutoring session.”
“I heard you were kneeling while listening to the lecture?” Elizabeth covered her mouth, feigning surprise. “My, my, I haven’t seen you kneel before anyone in thousands of years. Is that man’s ‘knowledge’ really that good?”
Leila stopped in her tracks.
She looked down at the runt who would never grow up.
“A summer insect cannot speak of ice.”
Those were the words Bell had taught Leila.
“An idiot like you, whose head is filled only with slaughter and dolls, will never understand the beauty of truth.”
“You!” The smile on Elizabeth’s face vanished instantly, and the stuffed bear in her arms was squeezed out of shape.
“Don’t be so quick to anger.” Leila stepped past her, her skirt brushing against Elizabeth’s face. “Wait until the day you can understand ‘Schrödinger's cat’ before you talk to me.”
“Now, move.”
...
Meanwhile.
In the Royal Capital, at the Lucas Estate.
The atmosphere in the drawing room was so oppressive it was hard to breathe.
Eleanor Lucas sat on the sofa, the teacup in her hand creaking under her grip. Opposite her sat a woman in a forest-green robe with pointed ears.
The messenger of the Wood Elf race, Philan.
“Eleanor.” Philan’s voice carried an unmaskable anxiety and a hint of reproach. “I’ve been to the academy three times already. Bell avoids me every single time.”
“The Wither Disease of the World Tree has already spread to the roots.”
“If there is no solution soon, the Eternal Fertile Forest will completely die within three months.”
Philan gripped her skirt tightly, her eyes reddening.
“That is the lifeblood of the elves! Bell clearly possesses that miraculous creativity, so why... why won’t he even take a look?”
Eleanor took a deep breath, suppressing the anger in her heart.
“That brat!”
She slammed her hand onto the table.
“All he does all day is conduct those nonsensical experiments! He doesn’t even care about the life and death of the elves?”
“Philan, don’t worry.” Eleanor stood up, trying to comfort her. “When that rebellious son returns, I will definitely make him...”
“Make him what?”
A cold and elegant voice came from the foyer.
The door was pushed open.
Cecilia walked in, wearing a pure white court gown.
She wore a perfect smile, appearing neither distant nor overly familiar.
“Mother, are you talking about Brother?”
Cecilia walked to Eleanor’s side, naturally taking her arm and resting her head lightly on Eleanor’s shoulder.
“Brother is very busy.”
“There are so many things at the academy he has to handle, and he also has to take care of that... Tia.”
When mentioning Tia’s name, a flicker of indiscernible coldness flashed through Cecilia’s eyes, but it vanished in an instant.
“He doesn’t have time to worry about some World Tree.”
Eleanor sighed and patted the back of Cecilia’s hand.
“You’re the sensible one. Unlike your brother, who gets more troublesome the older he gets.”
Philan watched the scene, feeling a bit lost.
“This is...”
“This is my daughter, Cecilia,” Eleanor introduced. “She just returned from her travels.”
Cecilia let go of Eleanor’s arm and walked over to Philan.
She bowed slightly, performing a standard elven etiquette.
“Lady Philan.”
Cecilia looked up, her pale gold eyes seemingly hiding a vast sea of stars.
“Regarding the Wither Disease of the World Tree...”
She paused, her tone becoming meaningful.
“Is it true that the yellowing began from the third branch of the crown, accompanied by a phenomenon of mana reflux?”
The teacup in Philan’s hand hit the floor with a clatter, shattering into pieces.
She stood up abruptly, her eyes wide as she looked at Cecilia as if she had seen a ghost.
“How... how do you know?!”
This was the highest secret of the elven race! Aside from the Queen and the High Priest, it was impossible for any outsider to know the specific symptoms!
Cecilia smiled.
It was a gentle smile, yet it carried an inexplicable chill.
Of course she knew.
In her previous life—specifically, the 324th reincarnation.
It was she who had personally burned down that withered World Tree to end the plague that had swept across the entire continent.
She knew every lesion and every dead vein of that tree better than anyone.
“I read about it in an ancient text.”
Cecilia made up an excuse without blinking.
She walked to Philan and reached out, gently brushing the tea stains from the elf’s skirt.
“Since Brother is busy.”
Cecilia’s voice was soft.
“Then let me try.”
“After all, I also know a bit about... healing methods.”
Philan looked at the human girl before her, who was beautiful to a monstrous degree, her heart pounding wildly.
Her intuition told her this woman was dangerous.
But the World Tree couldn’t wait any longer.
“You... you can really cure it?” Philan asked tremblingly.
The curve of Cecilia’s lips widened slightly.
“Of course.”
This was the reward for an “epic quest,” after all.
That World Tree Heart, which contained an immense amount of life energy.
“Mother.”
Cecilia turned back to look at Eleanor.
“I will accompany Lady Philan to the forest.”
“I happen to want to go out and clear my head anyway.”
Eleanor nodded with relief. “Go then, and be safe. My daughter is so thoughtful, knowing how to share the family’s burdens.”
Cecilia took Philan’s arm and walked toward the door.
The moment she crossed the threshold.
She glanced back at the luxurious chandelier of the Lucas Estate.
The warmth in her eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a deathly coldness.
“Let’s go, Lady Philan.”
“Let’s go... save the world.”
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