With the World Tree permissions under Lu Jingming's control, he could cut off the geomantic energy flow at any time, rendering Celenova's plot fruitless.
Though he could hijack Celenova's harvest, he didn't.
His fingertip traced the void; the leyline network lit before his eyes like glowing veins.
He could clearly feel the negative energy flowing—each explosion's destructive urge, each death's despair, each betrayal's resentment—these dark forces were coursing along the leylines, converging to two ends: Celenova and the Grail.
The negative energy absorbed by Celenova strengthened her; that absorbed by the Grail was purified and inverted to positive energy, then fed back to the planet beneath their feet.
"Sacrifice the few for the many…" he murmured, emotionless.
The words had been a pretext for the powerful to oppress the weak, and now were a maxim he enacted himself.
Those soul masters and civilians dying in Mingdu, those soul beasts screaming in the furnace of war—their sacrifices were utter tragedy on the individual scale; but on the planet's timescale, perhaps necessary nutrients.
He wasn't a saint—hardly a good man.
To advance the planet's ascension, to build a future holding more possibilities, he allowed this disaster to unfold.
Faces of the fallen flickered through his mind, so blurred they seemed never to have existed—he didn't even know their names.
That was reality.
The ambitions of those above were built on bones. The only thing he could do was keep his bottom line.
"At least…"
He clenched his fist. The World Tree stigmata on his hand glowed faintly. "The civilians who died in Mingdu—I'll bring them back."
Beyond that, he could not—and would not—do more.
Distant explosions rode the night wind—Feixiao and the Doomsday Beast were still fighting.
Lu Jingming looked toward the rift of alien space Celenova had opened, the corner of his mouth curving with meaning.
He could guess her scheme. He'd even considered that route himself; but because this Celenova wasn't her true body, her strength was limited, so she resorted to slaughter and destruction to gather power for her end goal.
"I can feel it—this planet is metamorphosing."
Hysilens appeared behind him, sea-breeze aura in her voice, a complex note within. "Is this the outcome you wanted?"
Lu Jingming smiled lightly, unsurprised by her acuity. As a demigod who held a fraction of oceanic authority, sensing such changes was natural.
The ocean was the planet's source of life; when the planet evolved, the ocean would change first.
"As expected of a demigod of the sea," he turned, meeting her gaze. "Yes. I want this world strong enough to bear a wider future."
"The energy density in the deep ocean is rising," Hysilens said, voice complex. "It's spreading to land; soon it'll cover the whole planet. Even the ocean's area is expanding—not by consuming land, but because the planet itself is growing. New elements and substances are being born, like… a seed breaking shell."
Her gaze grew more complex.
To soul masters, civilians, even soul beasts dying in war, Lu Jingming was the instigator of calamity, hands drenched in blood.
But to the continuity of civilization and the living who'd benefit in the future, he was like a trailblazer cleaving chaos.
She suddenly recalled her own past—on the journey to Flame-Chase, she had slain sixty thousand on the battlefield. Those lives under her sword were stepping stones, too.
She had no standing to condemn Lu Jingming; deep down, she even agreed with this necessary evil.
For a more worthy future, sacrifice could not be avoided—at least to players standing outside the board like them.
She didn't know he had a resurrection contingency. If she had, her view of him might have been even more complicated.
"If you want to remain in this world—or help Jiujiu fight for a godhood," Lu Jingming shifted from heavy topics, go hunt other Servants.
Hysilens nodded and left. She would do so even without him asking.
Godhood was no longer unique, and more than one Servant could remain—but slots were still limited. Competition was inevitable.
Unwilling to strike their own side, she would aim at the enemy.
This demigod of the sea, who had annihilated tens of thousands in one battle, was killer and war-goddess—top among all descending Servants. Aside from a few outliers like Feixiao, Jing Yuan, and Celenova, few could match her.
Lu Jingming had reason to believe that barring accidents, she would be among the final victors—also because she was Xu Jiujiu's Servant, one of his.
"Go on—take the stage."
His voice was like a silent trumpet, sounding in the minds of Durandal, Cerydra, and other Servants.
"Your script begins. The cast is all here."
"Been waiting for you to say that."
Cerydra put away his golden chessboard and pieces, a composed smile curving his lips as he looked to Hysilens's return.
"My Hysilens—as always, march with me and return in triumph."
"As you command."
Hysilens placed a hand to her chest, elegant posture brimming with high spirits; her sword was bared, edge keen.
"Do I need to go too?"
Raiden Mei appeared behind Lu Jingming.
She knew her special status—as the Grail War's planner and Lu Jingming's Servant, she didn't need to be on the battlefield.
"You'll come with me," he said, a strange glint in his eyes. "And meet a friend. I think… you could call her that?"
Among the summoned Servants, he'd found Vita; Mei might know her—whether she'd call her a friend was another matter.
"Friend?" Mei frowned. Aside from Durandal and Songque, was there another Servant from the same world-view?
"You'll see."
Lu Jingming smiled.
Given Vita's reputation as the bad woman in the Honkai world, Mei probably wouldn't want to see her.
"I don't like riddlers," Mei said softly, eyes weighing where to cut first.
"…Fine. It's Vita."
The corner of his mouth twitched. To avoid strange ingredients in the next meal, best not to antagonize the cook.
"Her?" Mei's tone turned instantly disdainful.
No one liked someone who took pleasure in pranks, especially one who treated them as entertainment.
But disdain aside, hearing a familiar name in another world stirred a subtle ripple—perhaps a chance to teach Vita a lesson wouldn't be bad.
…
Elsewhere, Gu Yue summoned Wang Qiu'er. "Qiu'er, take Durandal and go. You've sensed it too—you're missing something. Kill 'her', and become whole."
Wang Qiu'er blinked, then nodded. "I understand."
After breaking through Soul Sage, free from a certain God-King's manipulation, she clearly sensed her own incompleteness—the missing part was in Mingdu.
Devour her and she would be complete—truly independent.
Gu Yue's gaze was deep.
The time had come. Sea God Tang San was busy, unable to meddle in Douluo; at most Tang Wutong carried a strand of the Sea God's divine sense.
If Wang Qiu'er could slay Tang Wutong and absorb her, she could replace her existence—akin to the Emperor Auspicious Beast fusing with Tang Wutong, but with Wang Qiu'er in control.
Wang Qiu'er's identity had always been soul beast, the Emperor Auspicious Beast. Even after becoming whole, she would never recognize Tang San.
If the Sea God wanted her to say "Father," he'd be answered by the Golden Dragon Spear piercing without mercy.
This was Gu Yue's counter to Tang San's schemes against the Emperor Auspicious Beast and the soul beasts.
"Miss Durandal, I'm entrusting Qiu'er to you."
Gu Yue looked to Durandal.
Wang Qiu'er and Tang Wutong were comparable in strength, with variables being the Clear Sky Sect and Tang Wutong's Servant. But Wang Qiu'er wasn't alone—she had Gu Yue and Lu Jingming behind her. Odds were great.
"I don't really get it, but I'll defeat all enemies!"
Durandal didn't understand the relationship between Tang Wutong and Wang Qiu'er, nor the twists involved. She only needed to beat the enemy—not overthink.
If the result was good, the process was something she could accept.
"Istaroth, will you go too?" Gu Yue turned to her Servant.
Istaroth shook her head lazily. "Not interested. Boring."
To Istaroth, neither Grail nor godhood was attractive. She only wished to record the world with her authority; everything else was of little concern.
If Gu Yue wanted a godhood, she could rouse herself and help fight for the Grail—repayment for summoning her and letting her record a different history.
But Gu Yue had long said she didn't need a godhood. As Silver Dragon King, she was already at God-King level, bound to her bloodline, not dependent on the God Realm or stigmata.
Possessing the Silver Dragon King's bloodline equated to possessing that God-King godhood—no substitute needed.
Gu Yue wasn't interested in the Grail; neither was Istaroth. This Master-Servant pair opted out from the start.
…
"Damn it! Who was it? Who stole director's chair from the great Sparkle? I'm furious!"
Sparkle stomped hard, cheeks puffed with anger.
Her iconic double black ponytails swished; the red tassels at their ends traced irritable arcs.
Her flame-red outfit blazed like fire, matching her bristling mood—before she came to Mingdu, she'd refined her storyboards down to every line of every duel, even pulling an all-nighter to write Vita into the script she'd just happened to run into, ready to stage a "Grail War extravaganza" under her direction.
Who could have guessed the Lord Ravager would just flip the table?
The Antimatter Legion swarmed in; her carefully laid plotlines were pulverized. Overnight, Director Sparkle went from master of the board to an extra chased around by war. How could she swallow that?
"Hmph. So what if the script got shredded?"
A sly light flashed in Sparkle's pale red eyes. Her lips curled with a prankster's smile.
"Lady Sparkle won't be some puppet actor. Time to find the mastermind and settle accounts!"
She wasn't some naive sweetie.
As a Masked Fool, how could she not see the deeper board behind this Grail War?
Even beings like Celenova, Jing Yuan, and Jingliu—at the end of the day, all were just pieces prancing on stage.
Before, she'd been too lazy to dig—watching everyone follow her script was more fun. But the fun was gone. Just butting heads with other Servants or gnawing on Celenova was boring.
By comparison, dragging the mastermind into the light sounded like better entertainment.
Just as Sparkle turned to hunt the mastermind—
Her gaze swept over a clock tower at the corner, half-collapsed. Broken gears jammed in shattered walls; moonlight spilled through cracks, casting mottled shadows.
"What fun is it to just find the mastermind?"
Her eyes brightened like a child finding a new toy. She clapped. "Why not… play a different game?"
She'd found a better toy to make this Grail War more fun—far more interesting than going straight for the mastermind.
Masked Fools never lack for fun—they just have to make it themselves.
Her figure blurred, melting into shadow as she slipped noiselessly into the clock tower's ruins.
Her red skirt brushed scattered bricks, leaving a string of light footsteps.
Rather than seek the player, she'd be the most mischievous piece. Just imagining the player's headache made her want to laugh—and she did. Silver-bell laughter echoed in the wreckage.
…
At the same time, atop the Wuchang Division's highest rooftop, Lu Jingming suddenly frowned, as if someone in the dark were talking about him.
"Hm?"
He rubbed his brow. "Could those two be plotting to make trouble for me?"
He sighed helplessly, two faces flashing in his mind—Sparkle's pale-red eyes gleaming with mischief, and that bad woman, Vita.
These two Masked Fools were anything but easy.
If they ever teamed up, who knew what earth-shaking chaos they'd cause.