The item on the far left was a black-covered book, its edges inlaid with golden floral patterns that exuded an aura of mystery. In the center of the cover was the illustration of a graceful woman, head bowed, twin wings extending from her waist, and holding a skull in her hands. It resembled the legendary forbidden grimoires that lure mortals into corruption—simultaneously alluring and terrifying.
[Lich King's Manual of Cultivation: This manual records the methods of creating all death-type and alchemical lifeforms in the world of Tyrael—from fragile skeletons to the Valkyries who rival the gods themselves. Having been blessed with divine power and grown alongside Tírnas, it has been completely purified of all negative influences. Studying it will not cause rejection from the world's consciousness. However, be warned: if you commit large-scale slaughter in order to craft these creations, the manual will abandon you. It only accepts those with principles—a clear sign that Tírnas is not the ruthless being the legends describe.]
[Note: The Lich King's Manual of Cultivation is also known as The Lewd Lich's Manual of Cultivation. This nickname arose because all humanoid constructs within are exclusively female—each stunningly beautiful and voluptuous, crafted to perfection. They are highly coveted as servants by the most powerful beings across countless worlds. Not only are their bodies nearly indestructible and their power immense, but being alchemical creations, they are capable of learning and adapting to any kind of "position" (this word has been struck out) of knowledge. Such exquisite, capable maidservants—whether displayed or accompanied—are a symbol of ultimate prestige. (And no, I definitely won't tell you that the created beings don't come with any clothing...)]
At first, upon reading the system's description, Chu Lian was genuinely pleased. A manual like this—safe to study and free of negative side effects—was rare indeed. As long as she avoided mass slaughter for the sake of creation, it could easily be incorporated into her daily training regimen.
But when her eyes reached the system's footnote, she froze, her expression twisting between amusement and disbelief. What the hell is this supposed to be? Her emotions became an odd mix of embarrassment and exasperation—wanting to laugh, yet unable to.
Just one word summed it up: awkward.
"What's wrong? Not satisfied? This book has been with me for hundreds of thousands of years. I think it's time it found a new master. Keeping it with me all the time would just bore it. Of course, should I call for it, it will return immediately. When I hand it to you, I'll cast a divine mark on it—unless I summon it myself, it will always reappear beside you," Tírnas said, watching Chu Lian's awkward expression with faint curiosity.
"N-no, not at all! How could I possibly be dissatisfied? I'm more than satisfied—just a little distracted thinking about something else." Chu Lian waved her hands frantically, denying the assumption, before turning her attention to the next item.
It was a crystalline model of a palace, shimmering with faint prismatic light. The architecture was reminiscent of medieval Europe—but magnified in splendor a hundredfold. If sold as an art piece, it would surely fetch the highest price in human history.
[Tírnas's Crystal Palace: One of Tírnas's palaces in the world of Tyrael, this structure is equipped with countless defensive mechanisms and magical arrays. Without the owner's permission, any being harboring even the slightest malice will be attacked immediately. Those without malice will be trapped within an illusionary labyrinth, awaiting judgment. Having been Tírnas's residence for tens of thousands of years, the palace bears her divine aura. In its presence, no undead below the Heaven Level dare approach—any who do will be annihilated. Hostile creatures of the Earth Level will have their power halved; Heaven Level undead will be reduced by fifty percent. Only beings carrying the owner's mark or those permitted—such as alchemical and death-born creations—will be exempt from suppression. True freedom within its walls belongs solely to beings above the Heaven Level.]
"This palace... for the undead and invaders, it's basically the nuclear weapon equivalent for humanity," Chu Lian murmured in awe. With such a fortress, it would be nearly impossible to breach.
[Note: To fully utilize this palace and command the Valkyries within, you must first possess the Lewd Lich's Manual of Cultivation. So, dear girl—if you want your own Crystal Palace, become the Lewd Lich King!]
[System Message: Lewd, lewd~ I'm using this name now, la-la-la! Doesn't it make you want to hit me? Too bad—you can't! I just love watching that look on your face, wanting to scold me but not being able to~]
The system's cheeky annotation made Chu Lian's entire body tremble with frustration. Why was this AI—born from Ayase's absence—so infuriatingly obnoxious? It had never been this smug before when Ayase was in control, but now that she was away in the Punishment Space, it had somehow grown ten times more insolent.
Ayase, can't you control it already?! she mentally complained.
"I can't," Ayase's voice replied with helpless amusement. "It's a core component of the system's operation. When I delegate permissions, it awakens as an independent personality. Don't take it too seriously—it just likes to play pranks. It's not malicious by nature. I plan to leave all minor permissions to it in the future—it'll make my work much easier. So, you'd better get used to it. You'll be spending a lot of time together."
"Ugh..." Chu Lian sighed in defeat. Her mental assessment of the system AI's annoyance level shot straight to maximum. She decided then and there: the less she provoked it, the better.
Pushing aside that thought, she refocused on Tírnas's words.
"Not only does the palace suppress undead and malicious beings, but it's also fully portable. By channeling a special energy source, you can activate it at will. Within it are thousands of Valkyries who once served me," Tírnas explained with a faint smile. "Most are designed solely for service duties. Their combat power is only slightly above the Earth Level, and many can't leave the palace. However, there are also a few elite Valkyries capable of battle—but they require vast amounts of energy to function. Over eighty percent of them are currently beyond your control."
It sounded more like a subtle lesson than a warning, revealing some of the palace's hidden capabilities.
"And one last thing—it can change shape according to your will. But don't think about turning it into a weapon. Unless you possess power equal to mine, the preset laws within it can't be altered. To you, it will remain a dwelling—no more, no less. Still, considering your situation, I've granted you permission to configure three mobile modes. You can set them later at the palace's core."
After saying this, Tírnas waved her hand again, and the third object floated gently into her grasp. She brushed her fingers over its back, her expression softening with rare tenderness. It was clear she didn't want to part with it—but she knew the current war on Tyrael was reaching a critical point. Whether she won or lost, she couldn't guarantee what would survive the aftermath.
Rather than see it perish by her side, it was better to entrust it to someone new—someone who could nurture it.
"This is Nina," Tírnas said softly. "I forged her from the rarest treasures of Tyrael over a thousand years. She's a weapon of apocalypse. She's been with me for a long, long time—yet she's always stayed this small. I suspect Tyrael's environment simply isn't suitable for her growth."
Tírnas's eyes softened further as she gazed at the tiny dragon perched in her palm. Her affection was unmistakable—gentle, almost motherly.
"Before Anna was born, when I endured my loneliest days, it was she who stayed with me. In a sense, she is also one of my daughters. Sadly, even after all this time, she only has a faint consciousness. She cannot yet speak."
"She's like a newborn—aware only of her attachment to me, with no other emotions yet formed. But she's the most perfect creation I've ever made. Do you know what makes her unique? She's the first being in Tyrael's history to exist as both alchemical and undead life."
Chu Lian's eyes widened in shock. "You mean... she's alive?"
"Indeed," Tírnas replied calmly. "Technically, the Valkyries are alive as well, but they're imperfect. Their growth is limited and requires external guidance. Nina, however, is different. She grows autonomously, learning whatever she deems useful. I've analyzed her potential—it's nearly limitless. Even I can't predict how far she might evolve."
Hiss— Chu Lian drew in a sharp breath. A being like Tírnas would never deceive her—if she said it, then it was truth. The little creature before her might not seem impressive now, certainly not compared to the first two gifts, but what it represented was the future—the potential to one day reach Tírnas's own level, or perhaps, even surpass it.
"This... this is far too precious," Chu Lian murmured. The other two gifts she could accept with a clear conscience—they were fair compensation. But this small dragon? She didn't dare to take it.
"Are you worried you can't control her?" Tírnas, perceptive as always, smiled faintly. "You needn't worry. I haven't made a contract with her yet. All you must do is drip a bit of your blood on her core, and she will never betray you. She has emotions—if you treat her well, she will treat you well in return. Surely... you don't plan to mistreat her, do you?"
As she spoke, Tírnas narrowed her golden eyes. A palpable sense of danger filled the air, sending shivers down Chu Lian's spine. She immediately replied, "Of course not!"
"Then take her." Without giving her a chance to refuse, Tírnas handed Nina over, grabbed Chu Lian's hand, and with a quick flick of her nail, drew a thin line of blood. A single drop of her essence was extracted and placed gently upon Nina's small head, where she lay curled up, asleep.
"Roar..." The baby dragon let out a soft, beast-like cry as her body was enveloped in radiant white light. When it faded, Chu Lian could feel a strange new connection pulsing between their souls.
"Good. Everything's settled," Tírnas said softly, stretching her arms lazily. "This fragment of my soul will remain dormant within Anna's spirit. It will awaken only when she faces mortal danger—to protect her. But... I sincerely hope that moment never comes, do you understand?" Her tone was light, but the warning it carried was unmistakable.
"I understand," Chu Lian nodded solemnly. "As long as she's by my side—as long as I can still stand—she'll never face that kind of danger." She could never bring herself to deliberately let Anna be harmed, just to awaken Tírnas.
"Farewell then..." With that, Tírnas closed her eyes. The two items floating beside her drifted toward Chu Lian, vanishing into the void before merging into her system's storage space.
The crimson-and-black throne that Anna had been sitting on shimmered faintly before disappearing as well. The small girl's body lost its balance, falling gently toward the ground.
Chu Lian hurried forward, catching her in her arms. Then she dismissed the white chair she'd been sitting on and finally allowed herself a long, weary exhale. Speaking face-to-face with a being like Tírnas was utterly nerve-racking—if she could help it, she never wanted to experience it again.
Then, suddenly remembering something, she turned toward where Hiru had been. The serpent had already devoured the colossal zombie entirely, yet its body hadn't changed in the slightest. It was now slowly crawling toward her.
This time, however, Chu Lian felt no fear. With Tírnas's orders still echoing in her mind, she knew Hiru would never harm her. Its only purpose now was to serve and protect her.
Just then, the girl in her arms stirred, letting out a faint, sleepy hum. Her dark eyes—so different from Tírnas's golden ones—fluttered open. Gazing up at Chu Lian, she parted her pink lips and spoke a single sentence that left Chu Lian completely petrified...