Chapter 341: Dictatorship
Dressed in a crimson imperial robe, Durandal's long, pale legs peeked from beneath the hem. The garment clung to her slender waist and gently rising curves, perfectly accentuating her figure. Her beauty was such that it could captivate hearts in any world.
Under Sigurd's calm and unshaken gaze, Durandal stepped forward while the other three followed behind. Reaching him, all four dropped to one knee in unison.
"Your son pays respects to Father Emperor!"
"We pay respects to His Majesty!" ×3
"Pfft—!" ×2
The ministers—Zhuge Kongming, Rita, and Kiana—spoke formally enough. But the moment Durandal addressed him as Father Emperor, Senti and Kiana both lost it.
"Fa— Father Emperor? Ahahaha!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Senti toppled the tall stack of stones she'd been carefully building all morning, slapping the desk in laughter until tears nearly spilled out.
Fu Hua lifted a hand, wanting to stop Senti's hysterics, but after sneaking a glance at Sigurd's expression—cold and lifeless, like he was staring at a corpse—she only sighed, lowered her hand, and closed her eyes. She couldn't bear to watch.
Sigurd said nothing, simply staring at Senti for three long seconds. When it became clear her laughter was only getting louder with no sign of stopping, he raised his fist.
Thud! Thud!
"Ugh!"
Two bumps sprouted on her head, and Senti collapsed unconscious against the desk.
At least the noise problem inside the hall was solved. Unfortunately, a far louder commotion erupted from the real world on the other side of the projection screen.
"Wait, hold on! What the hell do you mean, Father Emperor?! I don't wanna suddenly be a mom! Sig, you two-timing scumbag, don't tell me you cheated on me again! I don't want this!"
Kiana gripped the alloy bars of her cell and bent them with her bare hands, her frantic, broken expression filling the entire screen as she shrieked.
Sigurd pressed his fingers against his brow. Yes—just as expected, the double source of his headaches had finally manifested in full.
Then, electricity surged into the bars Kiana was clutching.
Bzzzt!
"Eeeek—ahh! Hhhnngg!"
In the real world, she collapsed onto the cell floor like a ragdoll. Her full, pale legs twitched occasionally, proof of her stubborn vitality.
Outside the cell, Bronya wrinkled her nose. Her doll-like face, still a little childish, remained expressionless as she muttered to herself:
"Smells kind of nice. …Bronya hasn't had barbecue in a while."
Well, so much for sisterly affection.
At least Sigurd finally had peace and quiet again. He turned his attention back to the four of the Emberya Empire.
Durandal, however, was staring at the projection, a faint trace of confusion showing on her otherwise stern face.
"This is…"
She murmured softly, then cut herself off. Since they already knew Sigurd came from beyond this world, it wasn't strange if another world existed too. Anything was possible. And in any case, this wasn't the time to pry. The fate of their world was the only matter worth focusing on now.
Still, the issue left Sigurd momentarily conflicted.
Introduce Kiana as the girl he'd raised since childhood? Hardly fitting, considering they'd already done the deed. Call her his lover? With that loudmouthed, scatterbrained personality, it sounded almost embarrassing.
"…Think of her as a fiancée on probation. That'll do."
He gave the explanation offhandedly.
At once, an even louder outcry came from the projection:
"Hold up! Since when was there a probation period?! Nobody told me about that!"
"You've been told now."
"Oh, come on! You didn't say that when you were balls deep in—beep! And when you beep—beep! And also beep—!"
"Icarus. One-way mute. Block out the sound from that side."
With his command, the screen still showed Kiana's face twisted in outrage, shouting nonstop, but all the messy, censored words cut off into silence.
Then Sigurd silently increased the voltage.
Soon, Kiana collapsed completely, one hand still raised as though pointing forward, her face locked in mute defiance.
"As expected, her constitution has grown stronger. I'll need to adjust the current accordingly."
Sigurd nodded in satisfaction, making a perfectly serious note of it.
Fu Hua finally couldn't hold back her urge to complain. Shaking her head with a helpless smile, she said,
"Sigurd, don't you think that punishment was a little too much? Kiana's still a girl, after all!"
"The fact that her genetic flaws were corrected doesn't mean she can recklessly wield Herrscher power. After fighting that so-called perfect Valkyrie, her body naturally needs some recovery. A specialized current helps break down residual Honkai energy in her system and repairs minor internal damage. It benefits her."
Sigurd's explanation was firm, his expression as cold and unchanging as ever. He picked up his teacup and took a calm sip.
Fu Hua's brows furrowed. Her expression wavered, caught in visible conflict. Only after a long pause did she finally sigh and murmur,
"Couldn't you at least use a gentler method? I honestly can't tell if you're pampering her or persecuting her."
"…You don't understand. Some people—if you don't discipline them for three days, they'll flip the entire world upside down."
Sigurd's reply was heavy, almost mechanical, but behind his hollow eyes there was a bleak weariness.
Fu Hua wasn't Kiana's guardian. She hadn't lived through all those years of Kiana's wild ideas and "glorious accomplishments." Yet, glancing at Senti, who had collapsed unconscious on the desk, Fu Hua began to understand.
Senti had only been born for a few months, and already she had caused her countless headaches—even with the Book of Fuxi and Sigurd constantly keeping her in check.
To think Sigurd had raised Kiana single-handedly all these years…
Fu Hua patted his shoulder, looking at him with a rare trace of sympathy.
"…You've really had it rough."
"It's fine. I'm used to it."
"I actually know a few tricks too—techniques that don't leave lasting harm but are effective nonetheless. Perhaps we should share our experiences sometime. With Senti's temperament, I'll probably need your methods sooner or later."
"Very well. When the time comes, I'll teach you everything I know."
Sigurd looked into Fu Hua's icy blue eyes and saw resolve reflected there.
In that moment, their gazes confirmed the truth—they were both parents weighed down by the same endless struggle of raising troublesome children.
For better or worse, their mutual understanding deepened. The direction was a little questionable, yes, but progress nonetheless.
Turning back, Sigurd set his eyes once more on the four figures kneeling before him. With all the distractions from the two "problem children," he hadn't yet allowed them to rise. And to their credit, they'd shown strict discipline—since the Emperor hadn't spoken, they hadn't dared to move.
"You may stand."
With a casual wave of his hand, the floor rumbled as four ancient stone chairs rose up from beneath.
The four immediately took their seats. At the same time, Fu Hua flicked her sleeve, sending four cups of tea gliding gently into their hands.
"Thank you, Immortal!" ×4
The simultaneous salutation made Fu Hua's gaze flicker.
She sighed inwardly—this was simply the norm of their era. She had no choice but to play along, as if she'd returned to ancient Shenzhou, where everyone who saw her instinctively dropped to their knees.
Formalities complete, Sigurd wasted no time on pleasantries. His voice cut straight to the point.
"Your answer?"
The chamber fell into silence. At last, it was Durandal—the emperor—who spoke.
"Father Emperor, please lend us your power, and save Emberya."
"You understand the risks and consequences?"
"Yes."
"Is this the decision of just the four of you? Or did you ask the people of the world—whether they're willing to gamble their lives with you?"
Sigurd's question was sharp, piercing.
This wasn't simply a matter for Durandal and her three companions. It was a choice that would decide the fate of every living being within this bubble-world. To act alone, to rule without consent—that required immense resolve. But it was also selfish. Arrogant.
Durandal sat upright, her posture as straight as a drawn blade. On her flawless, dignified face there was only calm determination. In her clear emerald eyes, there was no trace of hesitation.
"This is the decision of Durandal alone."
"Dictatorship… That's not like you."
"As emperor, it is my duty to shoulder the heavens for the people. We did not make this choice lightly. Only after countless trials and verifications did we reach this conclusion. Whether it is right or wrong, I cannot say. But my people cannot live forever in fragile illusions, threatened with collapse each passing day. Our descendants deserve a future. This may be our only chance—miss it, and the course of destiny will never again be altered. Whatever the result, I, Durandal, will take full responsibility."
"If you fail, the entire world will vanish. Can you truly bear that? What gives you the right to shoulder such a burden?"
"Because I am the emperor of Emberya!"
Her voice rang with unshakable conviction.
"We considered seeking the will of the people. With the Central Nexus, it was not impossible. But no matter the choice, there would be those who opposed it. And the strife, the divisions, the chaos… it would tear our nation apart before any answer could be reached. That being so—I chose for them. If I am wrong, then let the world curse me. I will accept being remembered as the most hated, most reviled sinner in history. Better that than surrender this one chance for a lasting future."
Her hand clenched, and the porcelain teacup shattered in her grasp. Blood mingled with tea, dripping from between her fingers. Yet her expression did not change—stern, cold, resolute.
It was the decisiveness of a warrior, the conviction of a sovereign, the bearing of a dictator.
Was she right? Was she wrong? Ignoring the will of the people would always be grounds for condemnation. But the will of the people was not always correct either. In matters such as this, there could be no clear right or wrong—only the courage to bear the weight of the choice.
And in that moment, Sigurd saw in Durandal a reflection of his own future.
One day, he too would become a dictator. With his own will alone, he would drag an entire civilization forward. He too would ignore the voices of many, carrying the weight of right and wrong upon his own shoulders.
Perhaps, he thought, he should learn from Durandal's resolve.
Rising to his feet, Sigurd cut off the video feed from the real world with a flick of his hand. Before him, a vortex of space unfolded.
"Let's go. Since the decision has been made, there's much work to be done."
As he stepped toward the portal, he passed by Durandal, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder. Whether it was meant as comfort or encouragement, even he couldn't say.
"Yes!" ×4
All four rose in unison, following close behind.
Fu Hua gathered the still-dizzy Senti into her arms and was the last to enter the vortex. Together, they left behind the undersea resort where they had lingered for several days.
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