Chapter 327: Calculation, Without Result
Sigurd's judgment was calm and cold. His words were not just a conclusion for Zhuge Kongming and the others, but for the entire civilization—for the world itself.
It wasn't wrong. But Fu Hua and Senti exchanged a glance and both looked a little uneasy.
Kongming hadn't received a direct answer to the two strange terms she'd asked about, but from Sigurd's tone, and the increasingly heavy atmosphere, she sensed something deeply wrong.
"Your Majesty, you—"
Before she could finish, Fu Hua gently stroked her head like an elder comforting a child.
"To understand bubble worlds and world anchors, we have to start with the nature of the world itself," she said softly.
Sigurd turned his head toward Fu Hua.
She smiled and shook her head lightly.
"She's a smart girl. I think she deserves to know. And if it becomes too much in the end… I can always erase the memory for her."
"It's up to you. But I have to say, your heart's grown a lot softer lately. Looks like that unlucky little thing really has affected you."
Sigurd shot a side-eye at the silent Senti.
That single phrase—"unlucky little thing"—and that side glance were enough to make her bristle instantly.
"What did you say!? Who are you calling unlucky!?"
"You."
"Wanna get your ass kicked!?"
"You can't beat me."
Just four flat words.
Senti choked, her face turning bright red as all her retorts got stuck in her throat.
Sigurd found the exchange dull and lost interest, simply fanning himself in silence.
Fu Hua, watching the scene unfold, chuckled softly behind her hand. Then she turned back to Zhuge Kongming, who was looking up at her with wide eyes.
"In the higher dimensions beyond this world," she explained, "there exist two grand and unknowable systems of order. They are vast, complex, impossible to describe. But for the sake of understanding, we've given them names: the Imaginary Tree and the Sea Of Quanta."
"From the Tree grow countless branches and leaves. Each leaf represents a real world. Time, laws, and rules flow between the branches."
Zhuge Kongming's expression grew increasingly serious. This was far beyond anything she had ever heard or imagined. Her worldview was being shattered moment by moment.
Fu Hua gently stroked her head again and sighed.
"Just as trees in nature have leaves that bloom and fall, the Imaginary Tree operates in similar fashion. Every 'leaf-world' is watched over by an entity we call the Honkai. It imposes devastating trials on the civilizations within—natural disasters, wars, monsters, curses, you name it."
"Those that survive the trials continue to exist on the branches of the Tree, protected by its rules. They remain stable and can endure for a long time. But those that fail… they fall from the Tree."
"They drop into a chaotic, disordered realm: the Sea Of Quanta. There, the worlds lose the power that once sustained their existence. They are battered by every kind of unpredictable force. Catastrophes of all kinds can happen, and they could shatter and vanish at any time—leaving not even a trace behind."
"These fragile, unstable worlds… we call them bubble universes."
Zhuge Kongming's eyes widened. Her pupils trembled.
Fu Hua pulled her close in a gentle embrace.
She was, after all, still just a twelve-year-old girl.
Then, Fu Hua looked over at Sigurd.
She had done her part. The concept of bubble worlds was simple enough to explain. But explaining world anchors required deeper technical understanding.
Sigurd glanced at the young girl, her face now pale and shaken. He sighed internally as he fanned himself.
What was the point? Keeping the truth hidden was a kindness—knowing it only led to despair. That's why he didn't want to say anything in the first place.
He is gentle in his own way. It just didn't always look that way from the outside.
"…Fine. You've already said this much. Might as well finish the thought."
"As for the bubble worlds, what she said is basically correct—at least as far as our current understanding goes. It's a pretty good metaphor."
He folded his hands behind his back. His fan stopped. His expression, until now casual, took on a rare solemnity.
"Civilizations often end in tragedy—but even tragedy can be a glorious ode to life."
"Many of the worlds that fall from the branches were once incredibly brilliant. And these civilizations don't just sit back and let their worlds die. They pour everything they have into one final attempt to survive."
"In desperation, many of them converge all their remaining laws, energy, and structure into a single point—a core that sustains the very existence of the world itself."
"That is the beginning… of a World Anchor."
"After forging a core point," Sigurd continued calmly, "the next step is to connect it back to the branches of the Imaginary Tree—or reshape it into a substitute set of governing rules capable of mimicking the Tree's structure. The purpose is to reintroduce stability and foundational order into a bubble universe adrift in chaos, giving it a chance to become more like the real worlds still hanging from the Tree."
"But… nearly all such efforts end in failure at the prototype stage. The residual power within a bubble world is far too limited. No matter how brilliant the civilization, it's simply impossible to take that second step."
He glanced toward the altar beneath their feet.
"This place—the altar—is one such prototype. It's a remnant of your world's once-glorious civilization. It is a world anchor in its nascent form."
"And yes, it does possess the power to grant wishes. If I wanted to, I could activate it right now. As the core of this world, it can do anything… within this world."
"But only within this world. You understand what that means, don't you?"
Sigurd's tone remained tranquil, but Zhuge Kongming's face had already gone deathly pale.
She didn't want to believe it. But the overwhelming logic, the way Sigurd and the "immortals" laid it out—it was too coherent, too vast and well-structured to refute. It shattered her worldview with merciless precision.
And now, everything made sense.
Where had Sigurd and the others come from? Why did they possess such overpowering, unstoppable abilities?
Because they hailed from a complete, authentic, and infinitely more powerful world—one that was still safely nestled within the branches of the Imaginary Tree.
"No… no, it can't be… our world can't be…"
Zhuge Kongming began trembling.
She suddenly shoved herself free from Fu Hua's embrace, throwing all the information she'd heard into her celestial calculations.
She pushed her divine sight and star-reading abilities to their limits, gambling on a single, desperate thread of hope.
"Impossible! The Heavenly Will is within me, the Ziwei Star aligns—"
Pffft!!
A mouthful of blood sprayed from her lips.
Her body swayed, her skin pale as snow. She was about to collapse.
Senti caught her just in time.
"Hey! Don't push yourself! You're gonna die at this rate!"
"I… I can't see it… No result… Why? Why can't I see anything!?"
Zhuge Kongming clutched at Senti's clothes with trembling fingers, her eyes void of light.
For the greatest diviner of her generation, the lack of an answer was already an answer in itself.
It meant that the fate of the world had already passed beyond the scope of calculation.
"…Sigh."
Sigurd shook his head and crouched down. His feather fan gently tapped Zhuge Kongming's forehead, and a stream of life energy and spiritual force flowed into her.
After a few moments, color slowly returned to her face.
Sigurd placed the fan in her hands and looked down at her, expressionless.
"Why burden yourself with all this?"
"Isn't it enough just to live—freely, purely, without knowing the truth?"
"Based on current observational data, this bubble world still has sufficient energy to sustain itself. Unless it collides with a quantum tide in the Sea, it could persist for thousands—maybe even tens of thousands—of years. That's more than enough time for you all to govern, to create, to live fully, and die without regrets."
"And the chances of a quantum tide actually hitting this world? In the boundless void… it's practically zero."
Sigurd raised his eyes toward Fu Hua, silently giving her a signal:
Go ahead. Erase her memory.
There was no need to let this child suffer the truth. Keeping this knowledge would only drown her remaining years in endless despair.
Letting her forget… might just be the last mercy.
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