Jiang Chaoyu watched the sudden commotion in the distance and cursed under his breath. He knew his mission was blown once again. In hindsight, his habit of taunting his enemies had cost him dearly—if he had just kept his mouth shut, he might have finished the job by now.
Realizing the odds were stacked against him, he turned to bolt.
A wall of fire erupted right in front of him. The blistering heat scorched his nostrils, and the stench of singed hair filled the air.
As the flames subsided, Flame Bearer stepped through the smoke, his fists ablaze and his eyes burning with intent. “Don’t bother running this time!”
The royal guardians of Pymeshire stood among the most formidable fighters in their realm. Jiang Chaoyu was a top captain in his organization, but his previous clash with Jing Pei had drained much of his stamina, and using his Spoken Command ability took a heavy toll on his mind. Knowing when to cut his losses, he pivoted toward another escape route.
BOOM!
A bolt of lightning crashed down from above, barely missing him. Cold sweat broke out across his forehead as he looked up. Thick storm clouds had gathered overhead without him noticing, with electric arcs slithering between them like silver vipers.
Dark Cloud stepped forward with slow, deliberate grace, blocking his path.
Jing Pei stepped back without hesitation, letting them take over the battlefield. Each of the four weather guardians was incredibly powerful on their own, but when they fought together as the Weather Quartet, their strength grew many times over.
I could really use a team like this, Jing Pei thought to herself, a faint smile playing on her lips. Fortunately, it won’t be long before they’re working for me.
She turned her gaze toward Lolita, who sat quietly on the ground, holding Isaac close.
Her heart had shattered. She cradled Isaac’s lifeless body, tears flowing silently down her cheeks. She didn’t try to run anymore, because escape no longer held any meaning.
With Isaac’s death, the protective touch of his Lighthouse Jellyfish ability vanished from her body. The youthful innocence faded from her face, her soft features giving way to mature grace. Queen Cecilia’s true appearance returned, along with that deep, lingering melancholy that had once defined her.
It was the final proof that Isaac was truly gone.
Thunder Bringer stayed by her side, watching closely out of fear that she might end her own life. But after Flame Bearer and Dark Cloud finished off Jiang Chaoyu, Lolita gently set Isaac down and stood up.
“Aren’t you taking me back?” her voice was flat, her eyes hollow. “What are you waiting for?”
Yet behind that quiet exterior, a dark fire burned in her eyes—a hatred so intense it threatened to consume everything in its path.
The guardians shivered. They realized then that the person returning with them was not Queen Cecilia, but a Goddess of Vengeance. They knew she wanted nothing more than to put a blade through Emperor Orpheus’s heart.
Still, their duty was to bring her back safely.
Fearing further complications, they hurried toward the airship docks. The journey from Hualan to Pymeshire took three days by the fastest vessel, and every hour counted.
“Go ahead,” Jing Pei said with helpful charm. “I’ll handle the rest of the cleanup here.”
“Thank you, little dragon friend,” Thunder Bringer replied.
They escorted Lolita to the dock, where Wind Rider—having been released from temporary custody—joined them on board.
The airship lifted off, banking toward the distant kingdom across the ocean.
At the exact same time, in the newly established Republic of Punia, President Musani stood before several chosen Atavist warriors as they boarded their own vessel.
“The rest is up to you,” Musani said with grim resolve. “This mission is too important to fail.”
“Understood!”
Their airship rose into the clouds, setting course for Pymeshire.
Meanwhile, inside the hidden headquarters of the illegal organization, anger boiled over.
“Jiang Chaoyu is dead!”
“Useless trash! I thought he would accomplish more than Shi Gang or Qiao Ming, but he failed just the same!”
“To be fair, he was up against three royal guardians. He didn’t stand a chance.”
“Stop making excuses! The deal failed—how are we supposed to fund the research experiments now?!”
Noriana had offered a fortune to see Lolita dead, putting up everything she had accumulated over fifteen years, from royal jewels to vast sums of money.
The organization had sacrificed an entire squad for that bounty, and they weren’t about to let it slide just because Lolita was on a ship heading home.
“There’s still one option left,” a man said from the shadows, his expression dark and calculating.
The days passed quickly as the airship crossed the sky. Though escorted by Hualan security forces, the three guardians took turns patrolling the decks, taking no chances.
In her private cabin, Prince Ferri spoke to Lolita through a video screen, pointing to a broadcast behind him. “Look, Mother. Father has arranged everything. The whole nation is eagerly waiting for your return.”
On screen, the news anchor spoke with a trembling voice, barely holding back tears.
“After five long years, by the grace of Pyme, our beloved Queen has been found and is coming home! Since the palace released the news last night, tickets for magnetic levitation trains, airships, and ferries have completely sold out across the country. A massive crowd has already gathered at the foot of Buddha’s Hand Mountain…”
The broadcast showed thousands of citizens camping outside the palace gates with folding chairs and sleeping bags, tears of joy in their eyes.
The official story released by the crown claimed Queen Cecilia had fallen into the ocean while attempting to escape her captors five years ago. She had been rescued by a Hualan trading vessel and cared for by a wealthy, elderly widow who treated her like a daughter, though amnesia had hidden her true identity until now.
Photos of the Queen with the elderly woman were released to back the story—fabricated through the work of a Hualan shape-shifting Atavist as part of the diplomatic cover-up.
Online comments flooded the network with emotional outpourings:
[Five years! She’s finally coming home!]
[Thank goodness! I can’t wait to see the Queen again!]
[Emperor Orpheus must have suffered so much these past five years…]
[They really are a match made by the gods!]
Prince Ferri turned back to the camera, a smug smile on his face. “You see, Mother? Everyone loves you here. Does the affection of a single servant like Caspian really compare to all of this?”
Lolita spat directly at the screen. “I made two grave mistakes in my life: marrying your father, and giving birth to you! You ungrateful snake, get out of my sight! You don’t have a mother anymore!”
Ferri’s smile vanished, replaced by cold anger. “You sound like a common shrew!” He slammed the connection shut.
He turned toward Emperor Orpheus, stomping his foot in frustration. “She actually spoke to me like that over a dead servant! I’m her own flesh and blood—shouldn’t I be the one she cares about most?”
Emperor Orpheus, however, was in high spirits. Isaac was dead, and the man who had fueled his jealousy for years was gone forever. He skimmed through the glowing online comments, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
“We were always meant to be together,” Orpheus murmured to himself. “Caspian was just an unwelcome distraction.”
“Father!” Ferri pressed. “She hates us both! If only I were a Nightmare Atavist like her, I would erase that servant from her mind myself!”
Orpheus gave a calm wave of his hand. “You don’t need to be one. I’ve already secured another Nightmare Atavist. He’s waiting at the palace right now.”
Ferri’s eyes widened. “You mean…?”
“Once she arrives, he will perform personality surgery on her,” Orpheus explained smoothly. “He will rewrite her memories, stripping away the past five years and returning her to the gentle, obedient girl she was in her youth. She will forget the traitor, forget our past disputes, and we will live as a happy family once more.”
Ferri grinned. “That’s wonderful!”
In another cabin on the ship, Wind Rider sat quietly in heavy restraints.
Dark Cloud entered with a tray of food and water, looking at her with a quiet sigh. “We will plead for mercy on your behalf, but you know the Emperor’s temper. At best, you’ll be stripped of your rank. Was it worth getting involved?”
Wind Rider looked out the window. “If you had seen what she went through, you would have done the same. She was a good Queen. All I did was lend her a favorable wind.”
Dark Cloud fell silent, unable to refute her words.
By evening three days later, the airship entered Pymeshire airspace and touched down at the royal dock in the capital.
Emperor Orpheus and Prince Ferri arrived in person to receive her. Reporters were kept at a distance, capturing only the long line of sleek black vehicles gliding toward the palace gates.
The public imagined a touching reunion of tears and embraces. In reality, Queen Cecilia was led off the ship in heavy chains, her mouth sealed shut with tape. Only her burning eyes conveyed the sheer hatred she felt for the man standing before her.
“I had to quiet you for now, my sweet,” Orpheus whispered, cupping her face with a firm grip. “I couldn’t let you ruin your image in front of the court.”
Lolita glared at him, her gaze sharp enough to cut through steel.
“I know I made mistakes in the past,” Orpheus continued as they entered the private royal chambers. “We will leave all of that behind and start fresh.” He pulled her into a tight embrace, ignoring her tense body.
He dismissed the guards and dark agents, leaving only Prince Ferri and a quiet man who stepped out from the inner room holding a syringe.
“Is everything ready?” Orpheus asked eagerly.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the man replied. “This sedative will place the Queen into a deep, dreamless state, reducing her subconscious resistance for the procedure.”
Lolita’s eyes widened in realization. “You… you’re a Nightmare Atavist too?!”
“I am, Your Highness.”
“You’re going to alter my memories?!”
“Your memories and your personality, Highness.”
Panicked fury surged through her. She bit down hard on her tongue, trying to use the pain to stay awake. “Why?! Just torture me! Lock me in a dungeon! Why do this?!”
Orpheus frowned, surprised by her reaction. “Don’t you understand, Cecilia? I’m doing this because I love you.”
Before she could spit another curse at him, the powerful drug surged through her veins, dragging her into darkness.
Orpheus watched her slip into sleep, a strange mix of desire and insecurity gnawing at his heart. He turned to the Nightmare Atavist. “Wait. Before you wipe her mind, I want to speak with her one last time while her old self is still intact.”
The practitioner hesitated. “Majesty, entering a Nightmare Atavist’s dreamscape without proper mental shields is dangerous. She could turn the tables on you.”
“Can’t you control it?”
“I can transport your consciousness to a specific point in her past—to a moment when her emotions toward you were soft and unguarded. That way, her mental defenses won’t attack you.”
Orpheus nodded. “Take me back to twelve years ago… the night I first betrayed her trust.”
He took a small dose of the sedative and closed his eyes as the drug took effect.
In the dreamscape, Orpheus opened his eyes to find himself in the familiar corridors of the palace as it looked twelve years prior.
He hurried to the Queen’s chambers and found young Cecilia sitting by the crib, weeping silently into her hands.
Seeing her tear-streaked face—so young, so fragile, so full of love for him—his heart softened. He walked over and knelt beside her.
“My sweet,” he whispered gently. “Let me explain. My mother put immense pressure on me from the day I was born. I spent my life wearing masks to survive, craving power just to feel free. When I gained the throne, I lost my way and hurt you. But I realize now… you are the only woman I have ever truly loved. Can you forgive me?”
Cecilia lifted her head, her eyes red from crying. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because it’s the truth,” Orpheus said, looking deeply into her eyes. “I love you.”
Cecilia stared at him for a long moment, then burst into laughter.
Orpheus’s expression darkened. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s not funny,” Cecilia said, her smile turning cold and terrifying. “It’s repulsive.”
Before he could react, a sudden, blinding pain tore through his stomach. He looked down in shock to see a silver dagger buried deep in his abdomen, held firmly by Cecilia’s hand.
“You think your love gives you the right to hurt me and expect me to forgive you?” she snapped, twisting the blade without mercy. “How arrogant! But because of your silly pride, you gave me the perfect chance.”
Orpheus gasped, agony searing his senses. He tried to summon his mental defenses, calling out to the Nightmare Atavist. “Stop her! Pull me out!”
The practitioner appeared in the room, watching quietly. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Emperor Orpheus. My loyalty is somewhere else.”
Orpheus’s eyes filled with horror. “This was a setup?! Who sent you?!”
“The Republic of Punia,” the practitioner replied calmly. “And we came to collect.”
In the real world, chaos broke out inside the royal suite.
Noriana had managed to slip into the palace by accompanying the Queen Mother. Prince Ferri, furious at the intrusion, drew a heavy ornamental sword and slashed wildly at Noriana, driving her across the room.
“Your Majesty! Help me!” Noriana shrieked, cowering on the floor as the young prince cornered her.
“Father kept you alive for five years just so I could cut you down in front of Mother!” Ferri snarled, driving a dagger deep into her stomach.
At that moment, Emperor Orpheus’s eyes snapped open on the bed. He let out a choked gasp, his left side twisting as a severe stroke struck his body. “Ferri… help…”
Before he could finish, he collapsed backward, his breath ragged and his body paralyzed.
On the other side of the room, Lolita opened her eyes and sat up smoothly.
Ferri froze, dropping his dagger as he turned to look at her. “M-Mother?”
Lolita walked over and gently wrapped her arms around the boy. “Ferri… my child.”
“Mother… you’re back?”
“I understand everything now,” she whispered in his ear. “I was far too merciful to you and your father.”
Before he could react, she plunged a heavy sedative syringe into his neck. Ferri gasped, his eyes rolling back as he slumped unconscious into her arms.
Lolita handed the empty needle to the Punian Atavist. “A child like him is much safer as a puppet.”
On the floor, Noriana watched in absolute horror, bleeding from her wound as the grand illusion of the royal family shattered before her eyes.
Back in Hualan, school ended for the day.
Jiang Qing intercepted Jing Pei as she walked out with Chu Xusheng.
“I went to the mortuary earlier,” Jiang Qing said, keeping his voice quiet. “I checked Isaac’s body.”
Jing Pei raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“His head was missing,” Jiang Qing said, watching her face closely. “Why would anyone steal a corpse’s head?”
Jing Pei smiled faintly, adjusting her bag. “If someone took it, it must have been worth something.”
In a hidden facility far away, a severed head floated inside a glass container filled with seawater. From the base of the neck, small, translucent tentacles were slowly sprouting.
The hidden trait of the Lighthouse Jellyfish Atavist—unknown even to themselves—was that death was not the end. If the head remained submerged in seawater within a short window after death, the body would slowly regenerate, granting true rebirth.
In the dreamscape days earlier, the Punian practitioner had shown Lolita that very vision: ‘The information broker sent me to tell you—Isaac is alive.’
Sitting in the classroom, Jing Pei pulled out her phone and opened the international news. The top headline blared across the screen:
[BREAKING: EMPEROR ORPHEUS SUFFERS SEVERE PARALYTIC STROKE]
Jing Pei looked at the screen, a subtle, satisfied smile touching her lips. The fire she had set was finally burning bright.
