Nafi, a God-Enlightened of the Ego School. Although she was not one of the Crowned Ones, if that sole throne ever sat vacant, she would be one of the strongest candidates for it.
Having served as the Director of the Dome of Knowledge for nearly a century, if one were to ask when she felt most nervous, there was no doubt it was this very moment.
That Crowned One, the Emperor of Star River and the only King of the School of Miracles, was currently sitting on the slightly worn sofa in her office.
Nafi regretted slacking off today—intensely. She sat perfectly upright now, her spine stiff and straight, her fingertips unconsciously fidgeting with her cuffs. She felt the distinct illusion of being a subordinate facing a surprise inspection from the big boss and getting caught red-handed while idling.
Since the founding of Opeth City and the acceptance of funding from both nations, the scale of the Dome of Knowledge was no longer what it once was. It now stood as one of the big three alongside the Holy Moon Empire’s Academy of Stars and the Rhine League’s Imperial Science Academy.
The accounts… should be fine, right? Could it be that her secret use of the “Academy Development Fund” to buy limited-edition magic desserts had been exposed? Nafi quickly mentally reviewed her recent actions, and cold sweat nearly broke out.
Meanwhile, Lillian was leisurely sipping the tea that had just been brewed for her.
“Your Majesty,” Nafi tried her best to keep her voice steady, “To what do I owe the honor of your visit… do you have any instructions?”
“Relax, Nafi.” Lillian set down her teacup and smiled at her. “I’m not here to audit the books.”
The more she smiled, the more unsettled Nafi felt. It had been a hundred years; ever since Lord Protector Jiang Ming went into seclusion, Lillian had changed significantly. Even for an old friend like herself, there was no longer any room for laxity in her presence.
“Besides,” Lillian’s fingertip traced the rim of the cup, “I only possess the Holy Spear rank right now. According to the covenant with the Rhine League, the Kings of both nations must not lightly leave their thrones. The one currently sitting upon the Throne of the Holy Moon is merely an avatar carrying my authority.”
She looked up, a trace of mischievous light flashing in her red eyes.
“I sneaked out.”
Nafi’s mouth twitched. Her Majesty was truly… prone to following her whims.
“You didn’t come all this way just to tell me that, did you?” Nafi asked.
“Of course not.” Lillian leaned forward slightly, her leisurely posture retracting as her red eyes looked at Nafi with seriousness. “I came because I want to discuss something with you.”
“Please, speak.”
The corners of Lillian’s lips curled into an arc as she said, word by word:
“I want to enroll.”
She paused, adding:
“As a freshman, entering the Dome of Knowledge.”
***
“My story?”
Elvira fell silent for a moment, her red eyes looking out the window before turning back. She nodded.
“I can tell you. But it’s a bit long.” She stood up, her movements crisp and without any hesitation. “And I happen to have something to do right now.”
She picked up the untouched cup of orange juice on the table and pushed it gently to the center, as if drawing a temporary boundary.
“So,” she looked at Jiang Ming, “Tonight. On the rooftop.”
With that, she turned and left. The hem of her dark uniform skirt traced an arc, and the sound of her high heels clicking against the floor quickly faded. She did not look back, nor did she hesitate.
Jiang Ming didn’t say anything, nor did he try to make her stay. He just sat in his original place, watching her walk through the noisy crowd in the cafeteria and disappear into the boundary of light and shadow outside the door.
On the table, that cup of orange juice still stood quietly, the walls of the glass condensed with fine beads of water. It was full, completely untouched.
Elvira’s lying skills were terrible. Jiang Ming had noticed the hesitation and the way her gaze averted almost the instant she spoke.
She was escaping. Was she escaping the telling of the story, or something deeper?
He leaned back against the chair, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the tabletop. Just as his thoughts were about to sink into speculation about this mysterious girl—
A familiar, singular fragrance brushed past the tip of his nose once again.
Sweet almond, cold lily of the valley, and a base note of faint sandalwood.
Jiang Ming’s finger stopped.
He liked this scent very much. He liked it so much that during countless nights spent staying up late playing games, he would specifically light incense with the same recipe. But the problem was, this recipe didn’t belong to this world at all. This was the exclusive creation of a niche salon shop in reality. He had even complained to Lillian that there were no scents he liked here.
It wasn’t until much later, on the night of his birthday, that Lillian dismissed her attendants and came to his study alone. She explained nothing, merely placing a plain white box without any markings onto his desk piled with official documents and maps.
He opened it.
A crystal bottle lay quietly inside. The liquid within shimmered with an amber-like glimmer under the candlelight.
He looked up at her.
Lillian still didn’t speak, but in those red eyes, a very faint and proud smile rippled. It was as if she were saying: See, what you wanted, I found it.
From then on, that fragrance always lingered around her. During morning court, on expeditions, and even in the dead of night when he woke up from a nightmare, he would lean close to her neck and smell that comforting breath of sweet almond, cold lily of the valley, and sandalwood.
He had once asked her why she was so persistent about it.
By then, she was no longer the little girl following behind him, but was gradually revealing the silhouette of an Empress.
She lay sideways on the velvet bed in her chambers, her white hair spread across the pillow. Her red eyes watched him under the dim palace lamps, her voice carrying a hint of a young girl’s craftiness and softness:
“Because,” she leaned closer, the fragrance wrapping around them more clearly, “This way… my Lord Protector might hold me for a little while longer.”
His thoughts were cut off by a voice.
“Hello, fellow student.”
The voice cut in from the side and behind. It was cool and steady, like frost condensing on glass on a winter night.
“Are you interested in getting to know each other?”
Jiang Ming’s entire body froze.
This voice was too familiar. It was so familiar that it was like a key, clicking open the rusted lock in the deepest part of his memory, instantly dragging him back to that afternoon.
In the game, he was only twenty-two, having just been dragged back from a battlefield of mountains of corpses and seas of blood. He was covered in wounds, mud and blood caked onto his armor. He had staggered as he was brought before the throne, leaving dark red footprints on the stone floor with every step.
On the throne, the dying old Emperor was coughing violently, every breath sounding like a broken bellows being pulled. The palace was terrifyingly empty, with only the scent of blood and death permeating the air.
Then, the old Emperor used those hands that were like withered branches to tremble and forcefully pull a figure out from beside the throne.
A child. So small, wearing a white robe that was far too large. Her white hair was scattered over her shoulders like fresh snow, and a pair of crimson eyes were wide open, filled with a fear and a forced composure that did not belong to that age. She was shaking, her tiny fingers ice cold.
The old Emperor grabbed her hand so hard his knuckles turned white, and then roughly shoved that cold, trembling little hand into Jiang Ming’s palm, which was stained with filth and blood.
That hand was very small, very soft, and as cold as jade.
The old Emperor’s clouded eyes stared at him, his breath like a thin thread: “Lord Protector… my Lillian… I entrust her to you…”
That was the beginning of all their entanglement.
Jiang Ming slowly turned his head.
Long white hair, crimson eyes, and a face as cool and clear as moonlight.
Lillian stood a step away from his table, her head slightly tilted as she looked at him.
Everything was as it once was, but things had changed.