Category: This Necromancer Wants to Capture the Hearts of Deceased Beautiful Girls

Chapter 50: The Princess’s First Time

In the eighteen years of Princess Helen’s life, a significant portion was dedicated to relentless learning. She studied various arts, cultural knowledge, proper court etiquette, and the intricacies of social interactions. The purpose of this education was clear: to mold her into a perfect wife, coveted by nobles across the continent, a valuable bargaining chip for securing alliances or maintaining peace.

She had never been taught the art of conflict or negotiation. As a princess of the Western Empire, she didn’t even need to worry about competing with other women for the Emperor’s favor, for no one was more beautiful or accomplished than her.

Therefore, she excelled in poetry, music, calligraphy, painting, and other refined arts, her understanding of various cultures rivaling that of young scholars. Yet, when faced with the situation yesterday, she was as helpless as an ignorant commoner girl.

And just when she was on the verge of despair, Abyss showed her a way. She never imagined that her allies in her first attempt at making a difference would be the dead.

“This isn’t a conspiracy, this isn’t a conspiracy,” she repeated to herself, stepping out of her ornate, princess-exclusive carriage.

Indeed, Abyss wasn’t fond of conspiracies either. He had gathered incriminating evidence on all the nobles in Golden Griffin City and given it to Helen, empowering her to demand their support legitimately. He had told her that if she believed her cause was more worthy than the nobles’ foolish and selfish desires, she should pursue it with confidence. Abyss was a man of action, a fact that impressed Helen deeply.

“Your Highness, we’ve arrived at General Bert’s residence,” the coachman reported respectfully. Two accompanying guards stood at attention beside the carriage.

Helen held in her hand evidence of wrongdoing against twenty influential nobles. The rest of the evidence had been compiled into a book by Abyss’s undead servants and safely hidden in her own chambers.

In return, she had ordered her personal guard to distribute the beads provided by Abyss to the city’s residents within three days. The rat problem in Golden Griffin City was indeed quite severe, and the people were eager to receive anything that could reduce the rodent population. They didn’t even need the guards to go door-to-door; they came out to collect the beads themselves, making the distribution process relatively smooth.

After completing these tasks, Helen dressed herself in a beautiful gown befitting her status as a princess and sent a request to visit General Bert. Upon receiving a positive response, she immediately set off in her carriage.

General Bert was waiting at the entrance of his residence. Seeing Helen step out of the carriage, he greeted her warmly. “My dear Princess, your presence graces my humble abode. I’ve instructed my servants to prepare the finest refreshments, just waiting for you to join me for a chat.”

The strict etiquette training Helen had received allowed her to maintain a graceful and composed expression, concealing her nervousness. She smiled faintly, nodded at General Bert, and said, “Thank you for your hospitality, General Bert. I’m also looking forward to our conversation.”

General Bert led her inside, his mind racing.

Why would a princess request a private meeting with a subject? Especially this naive Princess Helen. Was she hoping to enlist his support?

That was absolutely impossible. General Bert himself was eager to use that money for his own army. His official title was Grand General, signifying his authority second only to the Emperor. There were three Grand Generals in the Western Empire, none of them pushovers. They were constantly vying for power. If Bert could secure the Empress Dowager’s embezzled fortune for his army, making it the most powerful force under the Emperor’s command, it would likely keep the other two Grand Generals in check for a long time. Then, achieving his personal ambitions, such as enriching his family and lining his own pockets, would be much easier.

Using this money to curry favor with a mere princess, no matter how beautiful? Preposterous. Bert enjoyed the company of women, but he wasn’t foolish enough to sacrifice such a valuable opportunity for a fleeting fancy.

Helen and General Bert entered the most luxurious building in the general’s residence, surrounded by servants and guards. They reached a lavishly decorated drawing-room. Delectable pastries were already laid out on the table, and servants, as soon as the princess entered, prepared fragrant tea using ornate silver tea sets, standing respectfully at attention. The aroma of the tea, a popular blend of spices among the Western Empire’s high society, made with the finest tea leaves imported from the Elven Kingdoms, filled the air. They were sparing no effort to impress the princess.

“Please, Your Highness, have a seat,” General Bert said, personally pulling out a chair for Helen, allowing her to sit gracefully.

“Please, General Bert, have a seat as well,” Helen said politely, watching him take a seat opposite her. “General, I’m here to seek your cooperation.”

“Oh? What kind of cooperation does Your Highness desire?” Bert asked, his tone enthusiastic, despite his inner disdain.

“There seem to be quite a few servants in the drawing-room. It would be ideal to have a more private setting. What do you think, General Bert?” Helen said politely, glancing at the surrounding servants and guards.

General Bert smiled and looked at Helen for a moment, then waved his hand. “Everyone, withdraw. I need to discuss a private matter with Her Highness.”

The servants and guards acknowledged his order and left the room. Once they were gone, General Bert spread his hands. “Alright, no one can hear our conversation now.”

“I need your support for my proposal. I want to use the funds confiscated from the Empress Dowager to hire physicians and alchemists and establish a Royal Medical Association to develop new medicines for the entire Empire,” Princess Helen said directly.

“This… This might be difficult, Your Highness. As you know, we military men prioritize the safety of our soldiers, so…”

“Allow me to interrupt. I have an offer you can’t refuse,” Helen said, looking into Bert’s eyes, trying to maintain her composure.

“Oh? This?” Bert’s interest was piqued. He leaned forward slightly and asked, “What is Your Highness referring to…?”

“Some matters regarding your father, General Gick, before his passing, related to your campaign in the Kingdom of Ossi,” Helen said.

General Bert’s eyes turned cold.

Chapter 49: The Little Secrets of Nobles

As Abyss finished speaking, wisps of smoke materialized beside him and Helen. Accompanied by faint whispers and rustling sounds, several figures gradually condensed from the smoke, kneeling respectfully before them.

Helen was startled by the sudden appearance of these figures. She instinctively grabbed Abyss’s hand. “Who are they?”

Abyss glanced at his hand held by Helen, then at Leona’s disapproving expression and Flora’s hesitant demeanor. He subtly withdrew his hand and replied, “You might recognize some of them. They’re all on our side now. Take a closer look, there’s no need to be nervous.”

Helen scrutinized their faces, her eyes widening in recognition as she saw an older face. “General Gick?” she exclaimed in surprise.

“Your Highness, at your service,” the old man, addressed as General Gick, responded immediately. His voice echoed as if coming from a long tunnel.

“You… Didn’t you pass away last year?” As soon as Helen spoke, she remembered that the boy sitting beside her, his hand slightly cold, was a necromancer who specialized in dealing with the dead.

“Indeed, I passed away. It was Master Abyss who summoned me. Now I serve both Master Abyss and Your Highness,” General Gick said calmly, his head bowed respectfully. “I and the others will assist Your Highness in your plan these next few days and help you achieve your goals.”

“Why did you summon these deceased?” Helen asked, looking at Abyss with a complicated expression. “You’re not planning to use them to fight for me, are you? I don’t want…”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t order the undead to kill indiscriminately,” Abyss shook his head. “These are just representatives of the ghosts I summoned today. There are about a hundred more who aren’t present. They will all contribute to fulfilling your plan.”

Helen tilted her head, still confused.

Leona and Flora, playing cards nearby, didn’t interrupt. They had accompanied Abyss into the city at dawn and had been busy all morning. Initially, they didn’t understand why Abyss had suddenly summoned so many ghosts in the city. He had only told them that he planned to help Princess Helen, and she would help him in return.

They didn’t understand the specifics at the time, but now it was crystal clear.

“Do you know one major advantage ghosts have over the living?” Abyss asked, gesturing dramatically towards the ghosts kneeling in a neat row before him and Helen. “Many ghosts know things that the living don’t, or aren’t supposed to know.”

“Information? What kind of information?” Helen asked, her beautiful eyes wide with curiosity.

“These ghosts are either victims of murder or trusted subordinates of certain nobles. They hold incriminating evidence against almost every noble and minister in Golden Griffin City—of course, there are a few who are truly virtuous and have no skeletons in their closet, but such individuals are rare,” Abyss said with a smile. “If you use this evidence to threaten a few key figures, the balance of power will quickly shift in your favor.”

Helen hesitated. “Isn’t that a bit… underhanded?”

“If you were threatening their safety or their families, it would be considered underhanded,” Abyss said, taking a sip of his drink. “But I believe using the truth as leverage isn’t necessarily underhanded. It’s more like… hmm, destiny. Every action has consequences. I am their retribution. General Gick, perhaps you could share your story with the princess.”

“Of course,” General Gick replied immediately. “Your Highness, take my own case, for instance. Do you recall my son, Bert?”

“General Bert succeeded you after your passing. He’s a prominent figure in the court now,” Helen nodded.

“Inheriting my position wasn’t easy. I have five sons. For Bert to stand out among his brothers and become my successor, he needed to prove himself with significant military achievements,” General Gick said, his tone somber. “During the war with the Kingdom of Ossi five years ago, all my sons led their troops on the front lines. Bert had the most impressive record, slaying countless enemies. Therefore, after the war, I recommended him as my successor to His Majesty, and the Emperor, after consulting with the Empress Dowager, readily agreed.”

Helen shifted in her seat, sensing that a bombshell was about to drop.

“But last year, the year I passed away, I noticed some discrepancies in Bert’s achievements and suspected they were fabricated. My subsequent investigation confirmed my suspicions,” General Gick said, his brow furrowed. “He didn’t just kill enemy soldiers in Ossi. He massacred countless elderly, women, and children to inflate his numbers. The Imperial Army has a strict code against harming unarmed civilians, but he disregarded it for personal gain, covering up his crimes, deceiving everyone, even me.”

“What?!” Helen gasped, covering her mouth in shock.

War was cruel, and lives were inevitably lost, but the Western Empire’s army had an inviolable rule: never harm unarmed civilians, never kill the elderly, children, women, or surrendering prisoners. General Bert’s actions were unconscionable, yet he had become a general through them.

“After discovering this, I decided to revoke his inheritance and confronted him, reprimanding him and forbidding him from ever serving in the military again. But that ungrateful son, that same night, somehow found a plague mage and cursed me during our meeting. I was caught off guard, immediately fell ill, and soon succumbed to the disease,” General Gick recounted, his voice devoid of emotion, a calmness born of profound disappointment.

“Is this information useful enough?” Abyss asked with a smile. “My hundred or so ghost friends, almost all of them have similar stories to tell. If you want to hear them all, it’ll take quite a while. The nobles of the Western Empire aren’t all fools, but most of them aren’t as righteous as they appear. In their pursuit of fame and fortune, they’ve committed many misdeeds, but the only ones who hold the evidence are the dead.”

“General Bert, praised for his bravery and skill, is actually this kind of person…” Helen said, her expression pained. “I… I used to admire him…”

“Is this evidence enough to sway them to your side?” Abyss asked with a smile. “And after you’ve used them, if you find some of them truly morally reprehensible, you can always replace them. Like General Bert, for example.”

“I recommend my third son, Reynard. If we disregard the fabricated achievements, he’s the most capable and resourceful of my sons. And most importantly, he’s patriotic and upholds the knightly virtues,” General Gick added.

“You… You’re truly a black magic user…” Helen stared at Abyss, speechless.

A mix of nervousness, excitement, and a sense of unavoidable responsibility filled her heart, making it pound in her chest.

Chapter 48: How to Use a Princess

“Why are you crying? It’s a good thing I put up a barrier, otherwise people would think I was bullying you.”

The shameless necromancer even feigned a surprised expression. He tucked the notebook back into his breast pocket and reached out to Helen, who flinched and retreated.

“I… I’m an Imperial Princess! You can’t insult me like this!” Princess Helen said, her face flushed, but her eyes firm in refusal. “I will never submit to your desires!”

“Ugh… Come on, it’s really nothing. I just need to borrow them for a bit. You won’t lose anything,” Abyss explained nonchalantly. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Borrow them! Not a big deal!” Helen had never been so humiliated. She could no longer maintain her princessly composure, tears streaming down her face, ruining her carefully applied makeup. “What do you take me for?!”

“The princess of the Western Empire, of course. I know exactly who you are, that’s why I came to you,” Abyss said.

“You’re shameless! You’re despicable! You black magic users, can’t you accumulate some virtue? Taking advantage of someone in a vulnerable position…”

“Don’t say that. There’s really no need to cry. You’ve ruined your makeup. How am I supposed to accumulate virtue…” Abyss, who had just made an incredibly shameless statement, now looked innocent, spreading his hands. “It’s just a small favor. It’ll take a day at most, a few hours at least.”

“Don’t you already have her?!” Helen suddenly pointed at Flora, who was sitting at another table, engrossed in her newly acquired card game. The accusation startled Flora, making her flinch.

“She can do it too, but I’d prefer a better, more natural process… And you’re the ideal candidate here in Golden Griffin City…”

“I’d rather die!” Helen said resolutely, clutching her chest protectively. “I’d rather die than suffer such humiliation at your hands!”

“There’s no need for you to die. Besides, the dead and the living are the same to me…”

“Can you two just explain what’s going on?” Leona, who had been watching from the side, couldn’t take it anymore. She glanced at them impatiently. “He’s talking about your Princess Insignia, the one you wear around your neck. You can use it to summon your personal guard.”

“Eh?” Helen, who had been ready to fight Abyss to the death, was stunned.

“Yeah, did you misunderstand something?” Abyss asked, scratching his head. “If so, I apologize… But I’m still a bit curious…”

“Don’t ask!” Leona glared at Abyss.

Helen finally calmed down. The Princess Insignia was a special accessory given to princesses, made of gold, mithril, and cat’s eye gemstone, with intricate magic circles engraved within. It was a tradition of the Mynian Empire. In the old Empire, the Emperor’s children were allowed to have a personal guard of up to a hundred soldiers. A princess’s guard was typically an all-female unit, directly under her command, responsible for her safety and possessing certain authority. As long as they didn’t violate the law or engage in political activities, they could command civilians to cooperate with their duties. After the Mynian Empire split, both the Western and Eastern Empires retained this system.

Although Helen held no official position or power, as a princess, she had her own personal guard of fifty soldiers. They were very loyal, but since Helen had no tasks for them, they spent their days training in their barracks, rarely venturing out on missions. If Helen activated the magic circle in her Insignia with her mana, her guard would receive the signal, locate her position, and rush to her side as quickly as possible, awaiting her orders.

“Why do you need my Princess Insignia? Do you need my guard to do something for you?” Helen asked Abyss, puzzled. Unfamiliar with necromancers, she couldn’t fathom his intentions.

Abyss untied a pouch from his waist and took out a small white bead. “I need your guard to distribute this to the commoners in the city, one per household. Of course, they don’t need to eat it. They just need to leave it in a corner of their house. Your guard needs to ensure that at least one-tenth of the households in the city receive this bead. I’ve already thought of a good reason. It’s a newly developed rodent repellent that can effectively reduce the rat population—and it actually does have some repellent effect.”

“I refuse,” Helen immediately replied. “You’re asking me to gamble with the safety of seven hundred thousand citizens in Golden Griffin City. I can’t allow a necromancer to casually distribute these things on a large scale.”

“I can guarantee that this bead poses no harm to your people. In fact, it’s beneficial to them,” Abyss said solemnly, extending his hand. “I, Abyss Belator, swear to the Nine Gods that I will never use this bead to directly or indirectly harm anyone.”

Oaths sworn with one’s true name were binding, and Helen knew this rule, but she was still apprehensive.

“Is Abyss Belator your true name?” she asked, frowning.

“Flora, cast a True Name spell on me,” Abyss said, not showing any impatience, beckoning to Flora.

Flora nodded and chanted a prayer softly. Soon, several glowing characters appeared on Abyss’s body, slowly rising and vanishing into the air.

The True Name spell was a common Divine Art used to verify a person’s true name after they took an oath. If they had used a false name, there would be no reaction. If they had used their true name, a string of magical characters would appear—written in “Holy Script,” the special language used by the Church for scriptures, official documents, and Divine Arts prayers. The meaning of the characters was “Oath Valid.”

Helen was finally relieved, but she still asked, “Then what exactly are you planning to do?”

“I need your guard to use their authority to ensure the cooperation of the people in constructing a protective magic circle,” Abyss said seriously. “I’m not lying, but I can’t reveal any more than that.”

“…Alright!” Helen said after a moment of thought, biting her lip.

Under normal circumstances, she would never have agreed to Abyss’s request. No one could order a princess to use her personal guard as laborers. But things were different now. Helen desperately wanted to use this money to prove that her idea was truly beneficial to the Empire and its people. Yesterday’s failure had made her crave success more than ever. After feeling so powerless, Abyss seemed like a lifeline.

“Then I’ll start helping you too,” Abyss said, putting the pouch of beads back on the table and clapping his hands. “Come out, my friends.”

Chapter 47: The Scumbag Necromancer Taking Advantage

Although Princess Helen held no real power in the court, raised as she was to be a tool for marriage alliances, she was still proud and confident. She had considered the possibility of failure, but she hadn’t expected that when she presented her ideas to her father yesterday, not a single person in the crowded throne room would support her.

The usually polite nobles, contrary to their previous courteous demeanor, all denounced her idea as childish and detrimental to the Empire.

Some ministers advised her that the money should be used for more practical purposes, not on something that only benefited the commoners.

And what were these more practical purposes? Building several magnificent statues of the Emperor to enhance his image and influence; purchasing more weapons and equipment to strengthen the army and deter the Eastern Empire; “fairly” distributing the money among the nobles to secure their loyalty; and even using it as Helen’s dowry to marry her off to the Eastern Empire, ensuring peace for a period.

Helen couldn’t understand why they wanted to spend the money in such wasteful ways. Would building statues make the Emperor beloved by the people? Would buying new equipment for the soldiers truly deter the Eastern Empire, which possessed most of the former Mynian Empire’s military might? Distributing the money among the nobles was even more ridiculous. Anyone who suggested that was an incompetent fool. As for marrying her off to the Eastern Empire, she found it laughable. The Eastern Empire’s goal was to unify the entire continent and reestablish the invincible Mynian Empire. How could her marriage change their minds?

She was even more baffled by her father’s silence as the nobles and ministers berated her. Her two brothers, standing on opposite sides of the throne room, simply watched coldly, a hint of mockery in their eyes.

Were they all just puppets, blindly following the crowd?

Her pride as a princess couldn’t comprehend this. She couldn’t understand how the royal family could be so incompetent.

Thinking back, the royal family’s voice had been a hundred times stronger when her grandmother was alive—perhaps it was her grandmother’s iron grip that had turned the Emperor and her brothers into useless weaklings.

She clearly remembered how several ministers who had been obsequious and subservient, like loyal dogs, during her grandmother’s reign now dared to openly mock her “womanly compassion” in the throne room, before the Emperor.

Helen couldn’t recall how she left the throne room. Her mind was in turmoil, unsure of what to do.

Yes, she was a princess, but just a powerless figurehead, destined to be a tool for marriage alliances. It didn’t matter which of her incompetent brothers inherited the throne. She wanted to do something truly good for the Empire, but that seemed like an impossible dream.

Helen couldn’t sleep that night. After waking up, she went through her morning routine mechanically and sat at her desk until noon, feeling helpless. She couldn’t change anything, and she had made that wager with the boy in the tavern. She had to buy them drinks and likely endure their mockery.

She instructed her personal maid to conceal her whereabouts, which wasn’t difficult in the current chaotic state of the palace. She changed into her previous robe and cloak and went to the agreed-upon tavern.

Pushing open the door, she saw the three of them still sitting there. The silver-haired girl was guzzling wine, playing cards with the blonde girl, who had a plump brown rabbit nestled on her lap, seemingly a newly acquired pet. The grey-haired boy sat quietly at a table, engrossed in a notebook.

…

“Welcome!” Dar greeted her warmly. He remembered clearly that this beautiful lady hadn’t paid for her drink yesterday, but since Abyss had covered it, he hadn’t lost any money, so he held no grudge.

She could have another free drink. That grey-haired human was very generous.

Abyss glanced up at Helen, his eyes still glued to the notebook. “You’re here? How did it go?”

Helen felt a pang of resentment. He clearly knew she would fail, yet he still asked.

She walked over to Abyss and sat down silently, not asking for a drink. “I failed,” she said quietly.

“I knew you would. Your idea was good, but you are indeed a bit naive,” Abyss said nonchalantly, his eyes still fixated on the bizarre illustrations in the notebook.

Princess Helen was on the verge of tears. “I know, I know I’m naive, but please don’t mock me anymore.”

“It’s hard to imagine what kind of education the royal family provided to make you so sheltered,” Abyss sighed softly. “I don’t want to mock you. I just feel it’s a shame. You have a kind heart and the willingness to act on your compassion, but unfortunately, you don’t understand the nobles, nor your father.”

“Are you suggesting you understand them better than I do?” Helen asked, trying to maintain her composure, but her eyes betrayed her annoyance.

“I understand people,” Abyss said with a faint smile. “Strictly speaking, it’s not me who understands them, but my companions. They’ve all experienced a lot, many of them died at the hands of others, so their insights are particularly profound.”

Helen didn’t understand what he was talking about.

Abyss casually chanted a few words, and Helen suddenly felt the space around them being shielded by something. The light outside dimmed, and the sounds of the tavern owner chewing tobacco and the female dwarf’s lute playing on the stage vanished. Having received magic lessons, she immediately recognized that she was inside some kind of barrier.

Now she finally understood the true identity of the boy sitting beside her.

“You’re a necromancer?” Helen exclaimed, her face pale with fear. “What are you going to do?!”

She wasn’t a member of the Church, but her upbringing had taught her that those who used black magic were never good people. They were outlaws who operated outside the rules, for whom killing, betrayal, and deception were commonplace. Necromancers, in particular, had been desecrating the dignity of the living and the dead since their very inception—even after her grandmother’s death, the court physician had discovered traces of necromancy on her body, although this information hadn’t been made public.

“What are you afraid of?” Abyss shrugged. “I just want to help you. You might have suffered a setback, but you must be unwilling to give up, right? Don’t you want the common people of the Empire to have access to affordable treatment for common illnesses? They would all be grateful to you, your name would be sung in their praises. Don’t you want that?”

“You… How can you help me?” Helen wanted to leave immediately, but she realized she was trapped and had no chance of escape. She forced herself to calm down. “I do want that, but your help certainly won’t be free. Tell me, what do you want?”

“Oh, you guessed it. I want this,” Abyss said, pointing.

Helen looked down and saw that his finger was pointing at her burgeoning chest.

Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of yesterday’s frustration and current fear. None of these black magic users were good people! Was her innocence about to be taken by this pale-faced man?

Chapter 46: Cultists are Expendable

Flora’s lips moved silently, a melodious prayer flowing from her rosy lips. As she prayed, a powerful aura locked onto the Priest standing before Abyss.

“A Divine Arts user from the Church? With a necromancer…?” The Priest struggled, but a golden chain materialized around him, tightening and lifting him into the air, suspending him in a cruciform position. It was as if a giant, invisible cross stood behind him. The Priest grunted, and his struggles ceased.

Eternal Chains, one of the Church’s highest-level Divine Arts, could bind a person in mid-air, rendering them completely immobile. The caster had to sacrifice nine-tenths of their life force to use it—of course, Flora, the super-genius blessed by the gods, could use it freely.

“Now is not the time for questions. Tell your followers to back off and not interfere, or my undead army will tear them all to shreds,” Abyss said coldly, staring at the Priest suspended in the air.

He wouldn’t actually kill these cultists. He disliked casually turning the living into the dead, as it would disrupt the balance between life and death. But threatening them was always effective.

When Abyss and Leona emerged from the Shadow Realm with the Priest, the cultists who had been watching them naturally noticed. Already hostile towards Abyss for stealing the Eye of Envy, they were enraged upon seeing their Priest captured. They swarmed in from all directions, unwilling to let it slide. There weren’t many of them, about a dozen, but more figures were approaching in the distance, reinforcements on their way.

The cultists were fast. They quickly surrounded the campsite, brandishing slender, tendril-like daggers. Their round, fish-like eyes glared at Abyss, their gap-toothed mouths wide open, emitting inhuman roars.

“Don’t come any closer! Retreat!” the Priest commanded. “For the Lord of Submergence, obey my orders!”

The cultists looked at each other, confused. They didn’t understand how the boy in the campsite had suddenly vanished and reappeared with their injured Priest, his clothes stained with blood. Nor did they understand why the Priest was ordering them to stay back.

But out of reverence for the Lord of Submergence, they only glared at the trio, no one daring to take another step forward.

“Good. Now answer my questions,” Abyss said, nodding with satisfaction. “Don’t try any tricks. You’re a half-undead now. Do you know what that means? It means that although you’re not dead, you’re within my domain. I can control your soul at any time, make you blaspheme your sacred Lord of Submergence, make you defecate on his statue. How does that sound?”

“You wouldn’t dare!” the Priest roared in anger.

“If you try any tricks, I will,” Abyss said with a chuckle.

“ABC, you’re disgusting!” Leona said, looking at Abyss with disgust.

“Now tell me about your Lord of Submergence. What does he look like?” Abyss asked, casually stroking Leona’s head, his eyes fixed on the Priest suspended in the air.

The Priest hesitated for a moment, then said reluctantly, “My lord possesses the most magnificent form. He is a dark cloud filled with lightning, with an endless void within. Countless tendrils extend from his body, reaching every corner of the world, observing everything. My lord is the salvation of the world. Once he arrives, he will bestow true wisdom upon mortals—and you, foolish heretic, will be punished!”

“What a coincidence. I also want to meet your master,” Abyss said with a smile, sketching something in a notebook he had pulled out at some point. He spent a while drawing before showing it to the Priest.

The notebook depicted a simple cloud with numerous squiggly lines extending from it, looking like a clump of dust.

“Does he look like this?”

“I’ll kill you! Aaaaaah!” the Priest roared, struggling furiously.

“Don’t bother. Flora’s Divine Arts are a thousand times more reliable than you think. Once cast, there’s no escaping,” Abyss said, continuing his interrogation. “Tell me about your Lord of Submergence’s abilities.”

“My lord is omnipotent!” the Priest shouted.

“Then why doesn’t he come and crush my skull?” Abyss shrugged.

“Because my lord hasn’t arrived yet. Once he arrives…”

“So you don’t really know much about your master either,” Abyss said, rolling his eyes. “A priest, and this is your level of knowledge? Your master can’t even casually descend, and he’s omnipotent?”

“Aaaaaah!” The Priest was fuming, but the Eternal Chains were too powerful. His limbs were completely immobilized.

The number of cultists surrounding them continued to grow, now reaching thirty or forty. They all bared their teeth, their wrinkled faces contorted, their round eyes gleaming in the firelight. Their expressions were hostile, their bodies trembling with rage at the Priest’s captivity and Abyss’s mockery of their lord. Veins bulged beneath their aged skin.

“Tell me about your Bishop, the one named Dallan,” Abyss said, putting away his notebook and looking at the Priest with disdain. He was disappointed. He had expected the Priest, as a high-ranking member, to be knowledgeable about the Lord of Submergence, but this was all he had to offer. He couldn’t even articulate his deity’s true abilities. Flora, as a former Saint, was far more competent. She could recite the Nine Gods’ abilities, domains, and a divine decree from each without taking a breath or stumbling.

“Bishop Dallan is a high-ranking necromancer, but necromancy is only one of his skills. He is invincible, regardless of strength. He never loses,” the Priest said, suddenly laughing maniacally. “Necromancer, your power might be great, but you don’t understand the meaning of ‘absolute.’ Those who face Bishop Dallan can ‘absolutely’ not achieve victory!”

“Are you bragging or telling the truth?” Abyss asked, stroking his chin. “If he’s truly absolutely invincible, then I’d love to try my luck.”

“No matter how much damage Bishop Dallan sustains, it will be reset to zero!” the Priest said, his face contorting into a grotesque grin beneath his broken mask. “No matter how powerful you are, your strength will be nullified!”

“I’m looking forward to meeting Bishop Dallan,” Abyss said cheerfully, glancing at Leona and Flora.

Leona also grinned, eager to face a worthy opponent. Flora didn’t react, only looking at Abyss with concern.

“Right, there’s one more thing I need to say,” the Priest suddenly lowered his voice.

Abyss was surprised. “Hmm? Go ahead.”

“I curse you!”

The Priest roared, and a chorus of screams erupted. The bodies of the surrounding cultists withered rapidly, and the Priest’s own muscular frame shriveled into a husk. Abyss noticed with astonishment that the Priest’s soul was also shattering, meaning he couldn’t be resurrected. He had sacrificed his own soul to fuel some kind of magic ritual!

These cultists were ruthless, even towards their own!

An invisible wave of magical energy pulsed outward, reaching thousands of miles before subsiding.

“What was that? Is he insane?” Leona asked, bewildered.

“Oh, he just cursed us using the souls of dozens of people. It’s a very high-level curse. If we were ordinary humans, we’d be severely weakened by now,” Abyss said with a wry smile. “But luckily, Flora is here. Her power completely negated the curse. I didn’t even need to cast a protective barrier.”

Flora pointed at herself in surprise, seemingly unaware that simply standing there had such a significant effect.

Leona tilted her head. “Oh, then it’s fine.”

“He also sent our location to someone. I guess Bishop Dallan will be here soon,” Abyss yawned. “I have a feeling this ‘invincible’ fellow will bring something very valuable.”

“What are you going to do?” Leona asked. “If he’s truly invincible as he claims, it’ll be quite troublesome, won’t it?”

“I have my methods,” Abyss said confidently, looking at Leona.

Leona tugged at his clothes. “Tell me, tell me! I’m curious! What methods?”

“Improvise,” Abyss said, scratching his head. “We’ll figure out how to fight him when he arrives.”

“…Are you brain-dead?”

Chapter 45: Leona Hit the Jackpot?

The overwhelming tendrils surged and coiled, encasing Abyss and Leona within their suffocating embrace. They writhed and thrashed with immense force, creating a grating, teeth-gnashing sound as they rubbed against each other.

The Priest’s red Dou Qi flames shot skyward, as if the release of the massive tendrils had further amplified his power. The aura radiating from him now reached the level of a ninth-tier Dou Warrior.

He was a priest of Golden Griffin City, blessed by the Lord of Submergence. He was no pushover!

“Feel the might of my lord! Once your limbs are devoured and your vocal cords shredded, you’ll be unable to resist!” The Priest roared, seemingly in immense pain, but his grip on the tendrils didn’t loosen. “You’ve chosen the wrong opponent! Pay the price for your recklessness!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The tendrils’ power was terrifying. The frozen ground cracked under their immense pressure, forming a giant spiderweb of fissures. Snow was flung into the air by the powerful tremors, then rained back down. The Priest’s imposing figure seemed insignificant before the massive tendrils, but his feet remained rooted to the ground, anchoring the onslaught.

The resistance from within the tendril mass seemed strong, but the Priest felt no unease or fear. His lord’s power surged within him. There was no enemy he couldn’t defeat!

“Ah! ABC! My hand!”

“Oh my god! This… What happened to your hand…”

The two screams from within the tendrils brought a sinister smile to the Priest’s masked face. Success! The girl couldn’t hold on any longer!

Suddenly, he felt the pressure within the tendrils surge. Before he could react, an overwhelming force erupted from within—

Boom!

The countless tendrils snapped, scattering in all directions. Chunks of viscous slime flew through the air, splattering on the ground with a sizzling, corrosive sound. The Priest screamed as he was flung backward, flying for dozens of meters before crashing to the ground. He tumbled and rolled like a ragdoll launched from a catapult, leaving a trail of blood and unknown slime, staining the pristine snow with a gruesome smear.

“Ugh!” The Priest tried to get up, but his arms, transformed into tendrils, had been blasted to pieces. With each movement, he coughed up a mouthful of black blood, trickling down from beneath his mask.

“ABC! That slime got on my hand! It’s disgusting! Get it off!” Leona shouted at Abyss, still maintaining her punching stance.

“Alright, alright, I’ll clean it,” Abyss said, summoning his Magic Catfish and retrieving a pouch of water from its mouth. He poured the water onto Leona’s hand, scolding her gently. “Why did you hit him so hard? You almost killed him. I wanted to interrogate him properly. What will Flora do now?”

“What’s the difference between dead and alive to you?” Leona asked, rubbing her hands together, cleaning off the slime. “Besides, Flora isn’t idle. You can have her heal him.”

“Sigh, so much trouble. But fine, we’ll do it your way,” Abyss said, gently stroking the ring on his finger. Several figures materialized beside him: seven skeletons, their teeth chattering, seemingly communicating with Abyss.

Abyss pointed at the Priest, who was struggling to get up but could only cough up blood. The skeletons immediately understood and rushed forward, lifting the Priest’s body. The slime dripping from his severed hand continued to sizzle and corrode the ground, but it left no mark on the skeletons’ bones. They were silent and efficient, one leading the way, the other six flanking the Priest’s body, carrying him steadily forward.

The Priest struggled, but he couldn’t break free from the grip of the skeletons’ bony hands.

He realized with horror that even the skeletons this mysterious boy casually summoned as laborers possessed the strength of eighth-tier Dou Warriors!

Just who was this person? How could such a powerful necromancer exist? The Council of the Dead had orchestrated the grand plan for the Lord of Submergence’s arrival, and they, as followers, had close ties with the Council. But they had never heard of a necromancer of this caliber outside the Council! Without the Council’s protection, a rogue necromancer could only hide from the Church’s pursuit. How could they possibly develop such power?

“You… Cough… Who are you…” he struggled to lift his head, but his entire body was firmly restrained by the skeletons. Severely injured, he couldn’t break free.

Abyss glanced back at the Priest casually. “Why are you stealing our lines? I was just minding my own business, camping here, and you brought a group of weirdos to spy on me. You cultists are as unreasonable as a murloc’s lungs.”

“You’ll die! The wrath of the Lord of Submergence will descend upon you… Cough!”

“Hehe, please don’t threaten a necromancer with death,” Abyss chuckled.

“I thought you were so powerful. I was hoping for a good warm-up after not fighting seriously for so long, but… This? This is it?” Leona taunted. “Except for your disgusting slime, you haven’t achieved anything. Come on, you’re weak.”

“Leona, have some decency. It’s not like he chose to be this weak,” Abyss said.

The Priest felt a deep sense of despair. Although his body was rapidly regenerating under the blessing of the Lord of Submergence, he didn’t believe he stood a chance even at his peak.

For the first time, he doubted the power of his lord. Why was he, a priest who commanded numerous followers, so easily defeated by his lord’s enemy?

“I’m going to put you on my campsite. You have two things to do. First, tell your followers to leave. They can go report if they want. Second, answer my questions and tell me everything you know about your Lord of Submergence,” Abyss said, unfazed by the Priest’s despair and inner turmoil. He had no sympathy for these cultists who disregarded human life.

“What if I refuse?” the Priest said coldly.

“Then your followers will suffer the same fate as you. None of them will escape. Trust me,” Leona said with a smile.

“Bishop Dallan has his eyes on you. He’ll deal with you soon! No one can survive Bishop Dallan! No one!” the Priest suddenly roared, his body swelling rapidly. In an instant, countless tendrils erupted from his flesh, lashing out in all directions, each as sharp as a sword. It was his final attack!

“Don’t be silly,” Abyss said, lightly beckoning with a finger.

The tendrils were severed instantly. The Priest’s mangled body regenerated at an incredible speed, and his escaping soul was forcefully stuffed back into his body!

“What?!” The Priest’s shocked expression was visible beneath his broken mask, his body fully restored.

“You’re a half-undead now. If you want to try that again, feel free,” Abyss said, turning to the Priest with a smile.

Chapter 44: Targeted by the Cultists

“No, I think we need to interact with these people,” Abyss said, sitting up after lying on the ground for a while.

“Oh, wasn’t it you who said we shouldn’t mind them?” Leona retorted, sitting up with a smug look on her face.

“It’s true that we don’t need to worry about them posing any threat, but think about it, if we capture one and I study them, wouldn’t that give us more information about the Outer Gods?” Abyss said, wagging his finger. “To safely and effectively utilize their power, such research is essential.”

“You want to study those weirdos? Count me out,” Leona rolled her eyes. “Just looking at them from afar creeps me out.”

“What about you, Flora?” Abyss turned to Flora hopefully.

Flora shook her head, waving her hands in refusal. As a former Saint, she disliked these cultists, with their mutated appearances and twisted minds, even more than Leona.

“Alright, then it’s settled. Leona will come with me to capture a cultist, and Flora will wait here. We’ll bring the cultist back, and you’ll be in charge of restraining them,” Abyss said, making the arrangements. “Please! Help me out this time. Leona, you can have all the wine and delicious food you want. Flora, I’ll create a familiar for you! A fluffy one!”

“You better keep your word!” Leona said.

“Ah… How did you know I like fluffy things…” Flora asked, surprised.

“Of course I know. You kept staring at the back of my head when we were riding, and in the city, you couldn’t take your eyes off the stray cats and dogs,” Abyss said confidently. “Although ordinary mages can only create one familiar, because you’re high-ranking undead followers, each of you can have one. So, deal?”

“Hmm… Alright… Fine,” Flora nodded, blushing. Although she didn’t know when Abyss had secretly observed her, she was happy that he had taken an interest in her preferences.

“I changed my mind! I want a familiar too! I want my own familiar!” Leona protested.

…

“Priest, should we make our move? They seem completely unguarded,” a cultist with sparse white hair whispered to a man with an abnormally muscular build, who wore a mask. They were hiding behind a tree a few hundred meters from Abyss’s campsite.

The masked man, addressed as Priest, breathed heavily, his round, lidless eyes staring at Abyss through the mask’s eyeholes. “Hold your position. Our mission is to observe their movements and report to Bishop Dallan. Don’t act rashly.”

“Yes, my lord,” the cultist bowed hastily. His bow was strange, unlike the usual human custom. He placed three fingers in his mouth and pressed the other two against his eyes, not closing them, seemingly feeling no pain.

“Any discoveries from the daytime surveillance?” the Priest asked.

“The believers assigned to watch them said they spent the entire day drinking in that tavern, chatting with other patrons. The boy in charge was reading something, but the believers couldn’t tell what it was. It looked like a notebook.”

“We might have known if we had targeted him sooner,” the Priest muttered. “When Bishop Dallan arrives, everything will be revealed. That arrogant boy and the girls with him will become our lord’s nourishment… or perhaps suitable vessels.”

“They managed to steal Empress Siana’s Eye of Envy. They might be quite powerful…” the cultist said cautiously.

“Hmph, no matter how strong they are, they can’t defeat Bishop Dallan. Have you forgotten the Bishop’s ability?”

“You’re right. My apologies. Bishop Dallan’s ability has nothing to do with strength. Once it’s used, victory is the only outcome.”

“Good. Keep watching them.”

“As you command.”

“For the Lord of Submergence.”

“For the Lord of Submergence!”

The Priest turned and left, leaving the cultist to continue observing Abyss and the girls.

“Huh?” the cultist suddenly exclaimed in confusion.

He looked back at the campsite and saw that only one person remained.

Where did the other two go? Was he seeing things? It seemed the other cultists watching them hadn’t sent any signals either. Could it be an illusion?

At the same time, two figures appeared behind the departing Priest.

There were no crunching footsteps on the snow, nor the whooshing sound of rapid movement. Abyss and Leona simply materialized behind him. Abyss reached out and tapped the Priest on the shoulder, and then all three vanished instantly.

“Priest! … Priest?” The cultist turned around to report, but the Priest was gone.

He stood there dumbfounded, unsure what to do.

…

The Priest was heading back to their base when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned around and saw a boy and a girl standing behind him. The boy was a head shorter than him, and the girl only reached his chest. The boy looked up at him with a grin. Wasn’t that the boy they had been watching? The Priest remembered his thin frame and grey hair clearly.

“Hey, you’re their leader, right? My friend wants to do some experiments on you,” Leona said. She disliked looking up at people, especially this man who towered over her, so she didn’t even bother meeting his gaze.

“Ah, don’t listen to her nonsense. I just have a few questions for you. Once you answer them, you’re free to go or stay,” Abyss said, flashing a pearly white smile, trying to appear friendly.

The Priest didn’t respond. His muscles tensed, and he instantly retreated several steps, putting distance between himself and Abyss and Leona. Red Dou Qi flames ignited around him. “Believers! The enemy is approaching!” he shouted.

His voice was loud, but even the cultist closest to him, the one he had just spoken to, didn’t react, as if he couldn’t hear him at all.

“Technically, you’re in another world now,” Abyss shrugged.

“Looks like we have to fight!” the Priest said, abandoning his attempt to call for his companions and deciding to engage in combat. The Dou Qi flames around him intensified, even spewing from the eyeholes of his mask. Judging by the intensity of the flames, he was at least an eighth-tier Dou Warrior!

Suddenly, before Abyss could say another word, a torrent of pink tendrils erupted from the Priest’s sleeves, their sheer number ripping the fabric apart. The tendrils resembled long, slimy earthworms, writhing and coiling, instantly covering the distance between them and engulfing Abyss and Leona!

Chapter 43: I Can Do Anything

Princess Helen was displeased by Abyss’s blunt statement. She took a sip of her wine and said, “I’ll find my own way. You needn’t worry, sir.”

Abyss smiled. “I know you’re determined to succeed. How about a wager? If you go back and implement your plan today, you’ll fail miserably. If I win, you come back to this tavern and buy us another round.”

“And if you lose?” Princess Helen’s alcohol tolerance was clearly not very high. Half a glass of the relatively light wine had already brought a flush to her cheeks. She stared intently at Abyss’s turquoise eyes.

“If I lose, I’ll do anything you ask. How’s that for fair?” Abyss said, tucking the notebook into his breast pocket. “Anything you ask, I’ll do it.”

“Alright, I accept your wager,” Princess Helen said, finishing her drink in one gulp. She suppressed the urge to grimace as the alcohol stung her taste buds and stood up. “My interview is over. I’m going back to solve the problem now.”

Princess Helen left in a huff, without even paying for her own drink, seemingly unfamiliar with the concept of paying for things outside the palace.

“Sir, her drink?” Dar asked with a fawning smile. “Although I don’t know what you were whispering about, I assume Abyss will pay for her, right?”

The dwarf was cunning. He could tell that the girl who just left wasn’t a penniless freeloader, likely a noble lady, so he didn’t chase after her, opting to ask the more familiar Abyss for the money.

“Of course, put her drink on my tab. Money is no object,” Abyss said casually, pulling out a handful of imperial coins from his pocket. Dar beamed with delight.

“You kidney-deficient man, why did you make her leave?” Leona complained about Abyss’s earlier statement, jumping off her stool and tugging at his sleeve. “We weren’t even at the interesting part of our conversation!”

“I want to help her,” Abyss said, looking at Leona.

“Hmm? How?” Leona slowly released his sleeve.

“Abyss probably already knows she’ll fail,” Flora said from the side. “When it comes to conflicts of interest, things can get very messy—especially for those without power.”

Flora had the most experience with this issue among the three. In her previous life, as a Saint with no real authority, she supported the Pope’s policies but ended up being forcibly poisoned by assassins from the opposing faction. She still vividly remembered the feeling of helplessness as her limbs were pinned down by high-ranking Dou Warriors and the burning sensation of poison coursing down her throat.

“Hmm, that’s true,” Leona said, thinking it over. Although she didn’t like to think too hard, she wasn’t a fool. As a princess, she was familiar with the power struggles within the court. “Things that benefit the common people are too distant for nobles. Even if there are benefits, they’re collective and long-term.”

“Exactly. In my experience, nobles prefer personal gain over collective benefit,” Abyss said, nodding in agreement.

“As if you know anything about nobles. You’re just a poor, wandering mage without even a proper home,” Leona said scornfully.

“I’ve chatted with more nobles than you’ve ever met,” Abyss said, a mysterious smile appearing on his face. He pointed at the ground.

Leona immediately understood he was referring to talking to the dead and shuddered in disgust. But then she remembered she was also dead now and turned away, ignoring him.

“Abyss, do you have any good ideas for helping her achieve her goal?” Flora asked curiously. “We don’t have noble status now. We can’t interfere in their affairs, can we? Are you going to resort to underhanded methods?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything bad,” Abyss said, stroking Flora’s golden hair. “I’m quite good at dealing with nobles. After all, I have several of them as advisors.”

“Just how many undead have you collected?” Leona asked, turning back to him curiously, her voice low.

“I’ll let you inspect them sometime, alright?” Abyss reached out and patted Leona’s head, even though Flora was in the way. “We’ll probably have a chance in the next few days.”

Leona, her hair messed up by Abyss, grumbled and turned away.

“Damn it… That felt kinda good… Damn it!”

…

As the sun began to set, the trio left the tavern. They casually bought some food for Abyss to replenish his energy and some junk food for the two girls, who no longer needed to eat, to indulge in. Then they returned to their campsite outside the city.

They rekindled the bonfire. It was already dark, and by the time they finished dinner and were ready to rest, it was eight or nine o’clock in the evening.

“Abyss, don’t you have some kind of portable house?” Leona asked, lying directly on the snow, looking up at the starry sky. “Although I’m not afraid of the cold now, isn’t it a bit undignified to lie here like this? Don’t high-ranking mages have those pocket mage towers that expand when you infuse them with mana?”

“Those things are too expensive. I’ve never bought one,” Abyss shrugged. “I don’t even have a job. I just wander around all day. How could I afford a pocket mage tower?”

“So useless! Go earn some money! Or make one yourself. You’re so good at necromancy, why not learn some Transformation magic?” Leona pointed to the distance. “We’re exposed here in the snow, being watched by strange people.”

“I told you, don’t mind them. Can they withstand one of your punches or survive Flora’s Divine Retribution?” Abyss lay down casually. His cold resistance was also incredibly high due to years of practicing necromancy. “Those people are as useless as a goblin’s appendix.”

Flora didn’t lie down but sat by the bonfire. She looked around for a while and said, “I still feel uneasy.”

She was right. Ever since they rekindled the bonfire at their campsite, a group of strange people had silently surrounded them. Leona had noticed them early on and informed Abyss and Flora. With their excellent night vision, they also quickly spotted these lurking figures.

There were about a dozen of them, both men and women, dressed in dark blue robes, with aged faces and round, bulging fish-like eyes. They hid behind trees and rocks, staring intently at the trio.

Chapter 42: The “Incompetent” Princess

Princess Helen was a household name in Golden Griffin City, renowned for her beauty, even though she wasn’t the first in line to the throne, having two older brothers.

In popular folklore, Helen’s beauty was more than just skin deep. Her eyes were said to be as bright as the stars, her skin as fair as unicorn milk, and her hair a shimmering silver that glowed in the dark, making it impossible for her to walk the streets at night without being recognized. Her scent could cure rhinitis, and her voice could heal deafness—such legends rivaled those of the former Saint Flora. The only difference was that the Saint’s legends were true, while the princess’s were merely exaggerated tales.

Abyss was more interested in the forty-two-year-old dead princess beside him, who hadn’t even washed off the embalming spices, than a living, breathing one. So, after entering the city, he hadn’t bothered to learn much about Helen. However, Leona was different. This Princess Helen, who looked so much like her, was a blood relative, her niece. She had frequently inquired about Helen from Dar, the tavern owner, who had spoken at length about her, yet failed to recognize her when she was right in front of him.

“Then I’ll have a drink with you three,” Princess Helen said, regaining her composure and her polite demeanor, sitting down next to Abyss. “Please don’t…”

“Don’t worry, we won’t,” Leona said, patting Abyss on the back. “Kidney-deficient man, go sit somewhere else. I want to drink with her.”

Abyss stood up reluctantly and moved to another chair, returning to his notes. Leona, taking her drink, sat beside Princess Helen and asked in a low voice, “Hey, tell me, why are you out here interviewing commoners in a tavern?”

“Not commoners,” Princess Helen corrected seriously. “The people.”

“Oh, sorry, my mistake,” Leona said, realizing that unlike her flippant self, this princess took the matter seriously. “Then tell me why you’re interviewing the people in the tavern.”

“I… I want to know what the people need,” Princess Helen said, a hint of shyness in her voice, but her tone was firm. “Behind the palace walls, all I see are pompous nobles. I can never know what the real Empire is like.”

Although Princess Helen deliberately lowered her voice, Abyss, reading his notes, glanced up at her. Flora nodded approvingly.

Leona was surprised. The information she had received from Dar had all been about how beautiful and charming this princess was. She had assumed Helen was a very “competent” princess, skilled in self-presentation, but the person sitting beside her now seemed vastly different from her expectations.

Why would a princess who wasn’t the first in line to the throne care about the needs of the people? Most princesses focused on making themselves beautiful, mastering various arts, and preparing to marry a nobleman worthy of the royal family. Those with a bit more ambition would cultivate their own network of supporters, scheming to usurp their parents’ power in their old age and then, upon their demise, smoothly ascend the throne. They would then settle scores with their siblings, rewarding loyalty and punishing betrayal, or simply banishing those who posed no threat to a remote corner of the Empire.

Leona had initially envisioned her own life as finding a husband, perhaps using her martial prowess to choose a handsome young man she fancied. Although she was a true Dou Qi genius, there were no wars that required a princess to fight. Her current life, traveling with Abyss, was actually more fulfilling than her life in the palace, at least she was free.

“This… I never thought about that. What’s the point?” Leona tilted her head. “This isn’t the Elven Kingdoms. The Emperor isn’t elected by the people.”

“But it’s the royal family’s responsibility to protect and care for the people,” Princess Helen said, her voice tinged with displeasure. “I don’t want to be someone who only thinks of herself.”

She took a sip from her glass. The drink wasn’t to her taste, but she maintained her elegant composure, swallowing it without changing her expression.

Leona’s interest in this somewhat naive girl grew.

“So, what have you learned from your interviews?” she asked.

“I sneaked out of the palace early this morning,” Princess Helen whispered. “I’ve interviewed many people in the city, and the most common complaint is about the Empire’s healthcare.”

“The Empire’s healthcare is good. They can treat many illnesses—I’m talking about the court physicians.”

“What good is it if only nobles can be cured? Ordinary people can’t afford those court physicians or the medicines used by nobles. And the Divine Arts of the Church priests are even more expensive,” Princess Helen said, clearly dissatisfied. “Sure, you can get treatment, but you have to pay a hefty price. The Western Empire is indeed more prosperous than other nations on the continent, but that doesn’t mean everyone can afford to get sick.”

“So, do you have any solutions?” Leona asked.

“You must have heard about the recent events in the city—the Empress Dowager, my grandmother, passed away. Before her death, she donated all her wealth to the national treasury. Now, the ministers and nobles are arguing about how to spend this money. They just want to direct it towards areas where they can profit. But I have my own idea,” Princess Helen said, looking earnestly into Leona’s eyes. “I want to use this money to hire a group of renowned physicians to research new treatments that reduce the cost of healthcare for the people. If this fortune is used for this purpose, it will definitely achieve great results. At the very least, it will prevent people in the Western Empire from dying of pneumonia because they can’t afford to treat a cold.”

“Hmm… Indeed. The Western Empire still uses ancient remedies for treatment. Some are effective, but some are just useless,” Leona nodded in agreement. “I’ve heard that it’s often more effective to pray to statues at home than to spend money on treatment or seek a Disease Dispelling spell from a Church priest.”

“That’s right. It seems you’re well-informed about these matters, miss.”

Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Princess Helen’s mood seemed to have improved. She wanted to reach out and hold Leona’s hand, but remembering her etiquette, she refrained.

“You’ll face many obstacles,” Abyss said suddenly, closing the notebook he had just finished reading and looking up at Princess Helen, throwing cold water on her enthusiasm. “No noble will allow you to control this money. You’re just a princess with no claim to the throne.”

Chapter 41: Princess Arrives?

“Well… kind of. I’m not from the Western Empire,” Abyss replied, nodding slightly from his seat. He didn’t even know his own nationality. His master never told him where he had been taken from. From a young age, he had traveled the world with his master, calling everywhere home. If he had to claim a belonging, he could only say he was a citizen of Haitville.

“Then are you a traveling scholar?” the girl asked, her eyes brightening as she stood up from her seat and approached Abyss, bending down to meet his gaze. The fragrant scent of her high-quality perfume wafted into his nostrils. “I’d like to ask you a few questions. It won’t take long. As a token of gratitude, I can buy you a drink.”

“Well… Go ahead,” Abyss said, not particularly fond of conversations with the living, especially unnecessary ones. But seeing the girl’s politeness, he agreed.

“Thank you so much,” the girl said, immediately taking out a palm-sized notebook and a pencil from her satchel. The pencil, a graphite stick encased in wood, was more convenient to use than charcoal and didn’t stain the hands, but it was also expensive. Ordinary people wouldn’t use it for writing.

Abyss was curious. Was this girl a scholar? But most scholars on the continent were unkempt bookworms. It was rare to find one as well-dressed, polite, and fragrant as this girl.

“I’d like to ask, during your travels in the Western Empire, what was your most profound impression?” the girl asked.

“The Western Empire’s tombs are simple yet grand in style, quite different from those in the Eastern Empire. They don’t rely on excessive ornamentation, yet they are aesthetically pleasing, sturdy, and practical. I highly commend them,” Abyss replied.

“…Hmm? Ah, yes, thank you. What do you think are the characteristics of the people of the Western Empire?”

“The people of the Western Empire? They’re not very devoted to rituals and have a more open-minded view of life and death. And, oh right, their methods of handling corpses are very efficient. The aroma of cinnamon and other spices lingers for a long time, not only preserving the bodies but also being environmentally friendly.”

The girl was a bit confused, but she continued taking notes and asked, “Then, sir, what do you think the people of the Western Empire lack?”

“Lack? Let me think… Hmm… They lack proper dietary habits. I’ve observed that many elderly deceased in the Western Empire have liver problems, compared to people from other regions.”

“Are… Are you a scholar who studies funerary practices?”

“Now you’ve got my attention…” Abyss chuckled, ready to launch into a lengthy discourse. Leona intervened, slapping a hand over his mouth, cutting off his impending treatise on the world’s funerary customs.

“Don’t ask him. He’s not right in the head. Ask me anything you want.”

The girl looked at Leona’s silver hair and green eyes, momentarily stunned, but she maintained her composure. “Alright, miss, what is your most profound impression of the Western Empire?”

“The people of the Western Empire don’t like to submit,” Leona replied.

“That’s a good observation. The Western Empire won its independence through rebellion against the Mynian Empire.” The girl seemed relieved by Leona’s answer. She jotted down notes and continued, “Then what do you think the people of the Western Empire lack?”

“The poor lack money, the rich lack morals,” Leona shrugged. “Ultimately, it boils down to an imperfect legal system.”

“Hmm… Your perspective is quite sharp,” the girl said hesitantly, writing it down in her notebook. “What do you think of the medical care in the Western Empire?”

“Oh, it’s quite good. The level of care is high. They can treat many illnesses,” Leona said after a moment of thought. “I’m talking about the court physicians. I’m not familiar with the common folk healers.”

“I understand. Thank you, miss. Are the three of you together? I’d like to buy you a drink,” the girl said, bowing slightly to Leona.

“Of course,” Leona replied, sitting back down with satisfaction. “Why don’t you join us for a drink, Helen?”

“If you don’t mind… Ah!”

The girl, who had been smiling, suddenly froze, covering her mouth as if realizing something dreadful.

“Helen?” Abyss looked up from his notes again. “Do you know her?”

“Are you that engrossed in your notes?”

Leona shook her head, exasperated, and jumped off her stool. She personally carried the girl’s drink from her table to the counter so she could join them. The girl, whom Leona had called Helen, was caught off guard, unsure whether to sit or leave.

“Excuse me, how did you…”

“You used an alchemical potion to change your eye color, right?” Leona whispered into Helen’s ear, standing on her tiptoes. “Your perfume cleverly masks the smell of the potion, but you can’t fool me. My sense of smell is much more acute than you think. These two beside me probably noticed too, but one is too lazy to say anything, and the other is too shy.”

“Ah, this…” Helen said, flustered, waving her hands despite the ticklish sensation of Leona’s breath on her ear. “I don’t know anyone named Helen… I’m just an ordinary scholar.”

“Hey, keep it down, don’t let others hear you,” Leona said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “As long as you behave, I won’t tell anyone your secret.”

“Miss… How did you figure out my identity?” Helen asked, regaining her composure.

“It’s simple. First, your posture indicates you received proper court etiquette training. And your fluent Common Tongue, without any accent, also proves you’re a noble of high birth. Silver hair, ruling out green eyes, and then there’s the bracelet you revealed while taking notes. Although you didn’t bring any of your personal jewelry, this bracelet was made by the royal workshop, wasn’t it? Your Highness, Princess Helen?”

Leona didn’t mention that she recognized Helen because of her resemblance to herself. She didn’t want to acknowledge a niece as a dead person.

Indeed, this girl was Princess Helen, the only daughter of the current Emperor, Beos.

Leona was pleased to meet a blood relative, but she was also puzzled. Why was this princess conducting interviews outside the palace instead of staying within its walls?

Could she be bored like Leona was back then?