Chapter 343: Pinky Promise, Praise
The Imperial Palace of the Emberya Empire—its grand main hall, once a place of golden dragon pillars and carved jade railings, a temple of solemn majesty, was now utterly transformed.
The entire floor was overlaid with black plating; countless glowing filaments of different colors crisscrossed in every corner, like a woven net of light. Both the ground and the air were crowded with machines of all sizes, gleaming with a futuristic luster.
Senti, dressed in her black-and-white garb, stood before a levitating crystal sphere. Both her palms hovered over its surface as she continuously poured in true qi—special Honkai energy stabilized into a steady state.
Shoo!
A sharp whistling cut through the air. Out of nowhere, a ball of white light came flying in with steel-shattering force, slamming straight into the side of Senti's head.
Boom!
The energy sphere smashed into her temple and then burst apart in a spray of glittering motes, vanishing into nothingness.
Senti's head tilted just slightly from the impact. Frowning, she glared furiously at Sigurd.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
"The amplitude curve is fluctuating. Your output isn't stable. Focus."
Sigurd stood at the center of the hall upon a raised platform, hands lifting an unstable white light cluster that wavered at its edges. His eyes never left the orb. It was connected by thousands of glowing threads, which stretched across the hall, as if linking to every machine and device in sight.
Senti puffed up her cheeks, her round white face smooth and tender like a peeled egg, practically glowing with petulance.
"Damn it! I just realized—you set me up, didn't you?! Those stupid pictures and recordings—weren't they all your trap?!"
"Are you really stuck on trivialities like that at a time like this? This is work tied to the survival of an entire world bubble. Concentrate."
Sigurd finally lifted his eyes, frowning in disapproval, criticizing with perfect righteousness.
Senti's chest heaved with anger. After holding it in for a few seconds, she ground her teeth and hissed:
"Fine! Just you wait! An immortal never forgets a grudge—even ten years later!"
"Did you not understand me? You think saving the world is something you can joke about?"
"I— fine! I'll focus! But mind your own business too!"
"I only hope an immortal's control and stamina prove to be as reliable as her mouth."
Sigurd's words were delivered with casual indifference, yet they struck like a goad.
And sure enough—Senti bit back a retort, huffed, and pressed both hands flat against the crystal sphere. Instantly, the stability of her energy flow rose to an immaculate steadiness, unwavering down to the tiniest strand.
. . . . .
"So this is what's bothering you?"
That night, in the outdoor bath, Fu Hua gently rubbed Senti's long gray hair, her body wrapped in a pure white towel. Her smile was warm and soft as she gazed down at her.
Senti sat in the water with knees drawn up, cheeks puffed, muttering complaints:
"Old Timer, you don't know how infuriating he is! Teasing me is bad enough, but after I spent a whole day pumping him qi, what did he do? Just told me to get lost! Is that how you thank someone?! If it wasn't because I can't beat him yet— if it wasn't because I still can't beat him— hmph!"
Half her face sank under the water as she blew a stream of bubbles, sulking so hard it was as though storm clouds were about to gather above her head.
Fu Hua chuckled softly.
Then, she shifted closer behind Senti, slipped her arms gently around her, and held her like a child.
Senti immediately stiffened, sitting bolt upright, suddenly flustered.
"O-Old Timer, what are you doing?!"
"Mmm, just comforting you. You don't like it?"
"…It's not that I don't like it…"
Senti mumbled, voice small, before leaning back ever so slightly, resting against Fu Hua's body.
Soulium was a unique material. Harder than diamond if reinforced, yet capable of being as soft as cotton when relaxed. A "Soulium body," unless hardened for battle, could be as warm and supple as living flesh, even carrying a faint human scent.
Fu Hua's embrace—though not the first time Senti had experienced it—still felt indescribably comfortable. Without realizing it, a silly grin spread across her lips, a rosy tint blossoming on her cheeks.
Fu Hua held Senti in her arms, the curve of her lips carrying a tender maternal smile. Her voice was as soft and fluid as water, seeping quietly into the heart:
"You know Sigurd's way of doing things. That's just how he is—once he sets his mind on important work, everything else is ignored, even the most basic courtesies. The closer someone is to him, the more overbearing and rude he becomes—like an awkward child. And truthfully, he is still at the age of a child. Don't take it too much to heart. Driving you away was really just his way of telling you to rest. And while you're resting… he's likely still pushing himself without sleep or food."
"Hmph… you always make excuses for him…"
"I can't help it. Sigurd has abilities no one else can match—so he carries responsibilities no one else can bear. As for me… beyond these small matters, I don't know what else I can do to ease his burdens. Senti, I don't like Dr. Mei's methods, and I despise Dr. Mobius' even more. Yet for the sake of saving the world, I'd still give my life the moment they asked. Now, Sigurd is our new leader… and this time, I truly want to support him of my own free will—because he deserves it."
Pressing closer to Fu Hua's chest, Senti could feel the faint, irregular change in Fu Hua heartbeat beneath that comforting softness.
But Senti didn't think deeply about it. Instead, she pouted, slapping at the water in annoyance.
"Alright, alright, I get it already! I do know what's important! I was just venting! Of course I'll help Sigurd!"
"Mhm. I believe you, Senti. You're a good child."
"Don't call me a child! And also…"
"Mmm?"
"Stop saying stuff like life and death! As long as I'm here, you won't die. I'll protect you, Old Timer!"
Senti tilted her head back, giving Fu Hua's chin a light bump.
Fu Hua blinked in surprise—then her lips blossomed into a smile as pure and gentle as a lotus opening under moonlight.
"Alright. Senti protects me, and I'll protect Senti. We'll face it together."
"It's a promise! Pinky swear!"
Senti turned her head, eyes sparkling with a bright glow, and held out her delicate little finger.
Fu Hua chuckled softly, her laughter light as a feather brushing the heart, and hooked her finger with Senti's.
"Pinky swear."
. . . . .
Just as Fu Hua had said—once Sigurd started working, he didn't stop.
Especially now, constructing the world anchor point. Though his words never betrayed how difficult it was, in truth, this was a technology not even their world had fully grasped yet. Its complexity and challenge were of the highest order.
Every problem solved brought new obstacles, and though Sigurd's mind towered above others, he was still only one person. No amount of brilliance spared him from the sheer cost of time and effort.
Nine straight days and nights passed without rest.
At last, after finishing her daily qi infusion, Senti couldn't stand it anymore. She walked up to Sigurd—who seemed as if he hadn't moved a single step this whole time—and poked his shoulder.
"What?"
He didn't look up. His hands still held the wavering light sphere, constantly adjusting its inner microstructures.
Senti poked harder.
"You've done more than enough! Keep this up and you'll work yourself to death!"
"My strength and intellect far surpass your imagination of what this body can handle."
"Damn it, can't you talk like a normal person for once? I'm worried about you!"
"Thank you. You can leave now."
Sigurd's reply was cold, detached. His gaze never shifted from the light sphere, not even sparing her a glance.
At that moment, Senti felt a hot rush of blood surge to her head.
"Hsss—so what's it gonna be? Are you going to rest on your own, or do I have to knock you out myself, huh?!"
With a flash, the heavy sword Blade Hidden in the Sheath appeared in her grip. She raised it high, shaking it like a baseball bat about to be swung down.
The sphere of light wavered—its fluctuations halting.
Slowly, Sigurd turned his head. His lifeless, dead-fish eyes—void of any emotion—locked onto Senti's face.
Senti arched her brows provocatively, showing not the slightest fear.
In response, Sigurd raised one hand, placed his fingers against her forehead—then flicked.
BOOM!!!
The slender girl's body shot out of the hall like a cannonball, smashing through dozens of massive stone walls, flying across several kilometers, until she finally crashed down into the streets outside the palace.
Sigurd lowered his gaze. After a brief moment of thought, the sphere of light before him slowly dissipated. He straightened his collar, then turned and walked toward the exit.
Just as he stepped outside, a figure streaked across the sky like a meteor—tiny fists wrapped in wind and thunder, aimed directly at his face.
Sigurd tilted his head, calmly watching the fist grow larger before his eyes.
Crack-crack-crack!
In a flash of light and shadow, fists and feet collided in rapid exchange. In the end, Sigurd's fist stopped just a hair away from Senti's nose.
BOOM!
The gust of force blew past her ears, rattling her hair. Senti's eyelids fluttered wildly, caught between fear and bravado, repeatedly wavering between open and shut.
But after a few moments, the pain she expected never arrived. She tilted her head slightly, peeking suspiciously at Sigurd's cold, unyielding face.
"What are you doing? Are you hitting me or not?"
Sigurd withdrew his fist. His thumb brushed across her cheek, wiping off a smudge of dust, before lightly patting her head.
"You're a little more sensible now. Not bad."
With those words, Sigurd strode forward, brushing past her shoulder.
Senti: "Huh???"
She looked down at her own fist, blinking in confusion.
—Was that supposed to be a compliment?
If she kept fighting, her anger seemed to have already dissolved into bewilderment. But if she just left it at that, the whole thing felt anticlimactic—strange and unfinished.
After standing frozen for a while, Senti hurried to catch up with his steps.
"Hey! What do you mean by that? Explain yourself!"
"Rest."
Sigurd's reply was curt. He rolled his neck with a sharp crack of loosening bones.
Indeed, there was still plenty of time left in this world-bubble. Losing a day or two made little difference. There was no need to push himself to such extremes; proper rest could help clear his mind and improve efficiency in the work ahead.
Meanwhile, Senti's thoughts tangled into a messy knot—caught between the satisfaction of achieving her goal, the indignation of being treated like an annoyance, and the odd little thrill of being praised by Sigurd. The more she thought about it, the less sense it made. Irritated, she clawed at her hair.
"Argh? No, wait, I—ugh! You—! Ahhh, you've scrambled my head!"
"Read more. Think more. Sleep early, wake early. Eat on time, three meals a day. Stick to it for a while, and the symptoms will ease."
"I'm not sick!"
"I know. It doesn't fall under illness."
"Ahhh! You're impossible!!!"
After hopping in frustration around Sigurd for a while, Senti finally gave up on trying to untangle it. Sulky yet helpless, she trailed at his side.
The sun sank toward the horizon, the sky painted with orange-red clouds. Under the evening glow, his tall, straight silhouette marching steadily forward blended with her lithe figure, occasionally kicking stones along the roadside—together forming a picture of quiet, wistful beauty.
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