Chapter 291: The Deal, The Wager
The night before Kiana's departure was, naturally, a long one filled with love making.
"So this is... the impact of a Judgment-level Honkai Beast…"
A certain barely-breathing white-haired little bundle murmured weakly, before falling into a deep sleep, exhausted and utterly satisfied.
Sigurd gently brushed the damp hair from the girl's forehead and shook his head.
"Of all things you can learn from Bronya, you choose this....? Why not her driving skill?"
He sighed in exasperation. Thinking back on her recent energetic and determined "raids" on his room, he suddenly had a realization—could it be that she was competing with Bronya?
Seriously, trying to compete at everything... What a silly girl.
While he mentally grumbled, Sigurd softly wiped the sweat from her brow with unmatched tenderness.
A moment later, Sigurd suppressed the lingering stirrings in his heart, sighed, and placed his hand on the sleeping girl's head. A ripple of psychic energy spread out.
. . . . .
A quiet black space, a brilliant crystalline hall. In its center sat a white throne adorned with engraved dragon motifs—completely empty.
Sigurd stepped into the hall without hesitation and sat on the throne like he owned the place.
Whoosh!
From all directions, spears of subspace shot toward him, fierce and unstoppable.
But just as suddenly, they halted midair, trembling a few meters away from him. With a single glance from Sigurd toward the void, they began to shatter and vanish one after another.
"Not coming out to see me, are you, Sirin?"
Silence answered him.
Realizing she couldn't do anything to him in the realm of consciousness, the attacks ceased entirely.
Nonviolent noncooperation—that seemed to be Sirin's new strategy for dealing with this unwelcome intruder.
Sigurd folded his hands and thought for a moment.
"So… since you share the same origin as Kiana, can you tell me how she's feeling right now? Was I too rough with her? You know how it is—during... certain times, controlling one's strength isn't always so easy."
"Shameless! Despicable!"
"Oh. So you could feel it, huh? My bad. I'll remember to block your senses next time."
"…What exactly do you want?"
A biting voice rang out. The Herrscher's flowing gown fluttered as the golden-eyed girl appeared in the dark void, glaring furiously at Sigurd.
Sigurd smiled faintly.
"We've had our fight, and I've given you plenty of chances. I think it's time for some honest, rational conversation. Don't you agree?"
"There's nothing to talk about between us. Either you destroy me completely, or I will rise again and wipe out every last human!"
"Even those Cecilia clones? I know they're just copies, but they're still like sisters to Miss Cecilia. Are you saying you'd kill all of them too?"
"I don't care!!!"
Sirin's voice rose sharply, followed by another storm of subspace spears flying at Sigurd.
He shook his head as golden chains extended from the throne beneath him, smashing every incoming spear. Then they lashed out, binding Sirin's limbs, body, and neck, suspending her midair.
"Every time we meet, you get this worked up. I've met other Herrscher personalities, you know. Most of them are pretty reasonable. You're... definitely the special case. Mental illness, maybe?"
"You!!! Get out! This is my world!"
"This is Kiana's world. And Kiana's world… is my world."
"Nonsense!"
"If I weren't worried about disturbing her rest, I'd have her come out and say it herself. But even if I don't, I think you already know what her answer would be."
"…Shameless."
Faced with Sigurd's self-assured declaration, Sirin struggled for a long time before finally squeezing out her verdict through clenched teeth.
Sigurd held his forehead with a sigh.
"I think I've been tolerant enough with you."
"Ha! Who needs your fake sympathy? Come on, kill me! Isn't that what you've always wanted? After this last war, that idiot's mental strength has stabilized enough—you don't have to worry about affecting her anymore. Come on, do it!"
Sirin burst into maniacal laughter—there was no fear in it. Rather, it carried a kind of desperate anticipation for death, a madness that rendered any reasoning powerless.
Sigurd frowned but simply watched her laugh, not responding at all.
After a while, Sirin's laughter subsided. She looked at Sigurd coldly and arrogantly, her lips curled in a fearless sneer.
In the silence, Sigurd finally spoke.
"How about this, I'll implant bombs in the hearts of all the Cecilia clones, with the detonator linked to Kiana. If you dare to take control or mess around with her body, those clones will be blown into pieces. How about that?"
A flicker of surprise passed over Sirin's face, but she quickly resumed her cold smirk.
"Tch! You think I'd fall for that? You think you'd let that idiot get hurt? Bluffing—keep dreaming!"
"She won't know. Even if you try to tell her, whose words do you think she'll believe—yours, or mine?"
"You—! Shameless! I don't care!"
Sirin snorted and turned her head away, refusing to look at Sigurd anymore.
Sigurd nodded knowingly and said:
"As expected, for someone who inherited your obsession, that phrase 'Ich liebe dich' is still a longing you can't escape."
"You're wrong! I am the embodiment of hatred, the sins of humanity, the vengeful spirit of judgment and destruction! You can never threaten me!"
"What about Benares, then?"
"An useless dog. Meaningless."
Sirin's tone was cold and full of disdain.
Sigurd frowned deeply, honestly at a loss for words.
This one was truly beyond reasoning. Even knowing some of her weaknesses, there was no getting through. She would rather die than show the slightest softening. That was Sirin in a nutshell.
Abandoning all attempts at friendly negotiation, Sigurd wiped the resignation from his face. A red gem, about the size of a fingernail, appeared in his hand. His expression was emotionless as he said:
"This is the Herrscher of Thousands core. You're familiar with it. I can promise you, barring special circumstances, two days of freedom every month. You can use Kiana's body or take control of the Herrscher of Thousands' body to do whatever you want—eat, see the world, play games, watch anime, movies, travel, whatever—just nothing like 'destroying humanity'."
"Are you insane? Did you already forget the lesson we just went through?"
Sirin looked at him as if he were an idiot.
Sigurd shook his head.
"I know you can seize control again and launch another war for revenge whenever you want. But think about Kiana's Edge of Taixuan. Against that move, do you really think having five Herrscher cores or more would make a difference?"
Sirin said nothing.
Having experienced that technique more than once, she knew very well—it was a soul- and consciousness-targeting ultimate attack. Its effectiveness had little to do with the amount of power she wielded. Unless she made strides in the spiritual domain, more Herrscher authority wouldn't change the outcome.
Sigurd casually played with the Herrscher gem in his hand.
"Fu Hua's own Edge of Taixuan was honed over a thousand years. Compared to her, Kiana is just a baby taking her first steps. And I can still bring out three to five strategic powers equal to Fu Hua—most importantly, there's me. Don't forget, I'm the highest mountain you'll never be able to climb over.You ask if I've forgotten the lesson?I never thought of it as a lesson. You don't qualify. So get real, Sirin."
Sirin fell silent for a moment.
"...What exactly are you trying to say?"
"A deal."
"What I offer is freedom. What you need to give—well, I won't ask someone as extreme as you to help humanity. Just don't interfere with Kiana's use of Authority of Space. As long as you behave yourself a little, that's enough."
"I refuse. You can kill me, or get lost."
Sirin's answer was sharp and absolute—unyielding as ever.
Sigurd remained silent. He had to admit, his patience was running thin.
Kiana believed that killing Sirin might lead to the loss of the Herrscher of Void's powers, and thus they'd lose a valuable force they could control. But that wasn't the full truth. Even if the Herrscher of the Void died, the core would still remain. Its energy and usability might be weakened, but the power would still exist.
The real reason Sigurd kept Sirin alive was because he had noticed Kiana's sympathy. A shared origin, similar circumstances—those things made Kiana feel empathy toward her. If Sirin were eliminated outright, that silly girl would be heartbroken.
But sorrow could be healed. And Sigurd had confidence that he could help Kiana through it.
So now, with Kiana having mastered the Edge of Taixuan and her spiritual strength elevated, Sirin's continued existence had truly become unnecessary.
"Sigurd, let me handle this, okay?"
Just as the warmth in Sigurd's eyes was beginning to freeze over, a pair of snow-white arms stretched out from behind him, gently wrapping around him from behind the throne.
It was a surprise for both of them—the appearance of the other master of this realm.
Kiana, dressed in a long, pure white gown, smiled softly as she looked at Sigurd.
Sigurd paused for a moment, then nodded slightly and disappeared from the space.
Kiana let out a quiet chuckle and walked over to the throne, taking a seat.
"Long time no see. Looks like your mental wounds have mostly healed."
"If you're here to negotiate with me too, then you can leave. I will never work with humans."
"Sigurd's terms were generous, and it's because of me. Any other Herrscher wouldn't get this kind of treatment."
"I said, get out."
Sirin's expression was cold. Even while bound in midair by thick chains, she radiated a pride and dominance, as if she were the one in control.
Kiana rested her hands on her thighs, gently swinging her legs. There was an air of innocence and tenderness about her—two beautiful qualities radiating from her gentle smile.
For a moment, Sirin was dazed. She seemed to see that woman—the one who had once appeared in her dreams.
"Alright, I know you're stubborn. Let me put it another way. Haven't you always said you wanted to witness my pathetic, foolish downfall? But if you die here, you won't get to see it. Ah, see? Being consumed by hatred like you is the wrong path. I was right all along. Otherwise, why would you be the one dying so soon, while I, who believe in love, am still alive and smiling?"
Sirin said nothing.
"Sirin, if you really want to see me regret, see me break down, see me die full of hatred just like you—if you really want to witness that ending, then you have to stay alive inside my body, don't you?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"Accept Sigurd's conditions. It's not a compromise—it's a wager between you and me. A gamble on love and hate. Let's see which one can save the Sirin of the past. Let's see which side is truly right. What do you say?"
Kiana tilted her head up, her smile radiant and soft.
Sirin fell into another brief trance. That tone, that way of speaking—like coaxing a child—it was all so familiar, so much so that it nearly made her emotions spiral out of control.
"...Smooth talker. Liar."
"What would I gain from lying to you? The Herrscher of the Void's powers are strong, yes—but not so strong that Sigurd would waste his time being bothered with them. You know I'm not trying to get anything out of you. I already have the memories of the original Sirin, but I still don't want to take the path you did. I just want to prove to you that love is stronger. That's all."
Kiana spoke slowly, her tone tinged with melancholy.
Sirin sank into a long silence. So long that Kiana almost gave up on the conversation—until suddenly, Sirin let out a cold laugh.
"Heh! Fine. I'll witness your end. One day, you will become like me. And when that day comes, we'll destroy humanity together."
"Mmm… and if I win, would you at least try to understand how I feel?"
"What a foolish question."
"I'm serious. I want you to change. I want you to be redeemed. I want you to one day realize the mistakes you've made and turn back… Sirin, the world itself doesn't define coldness or warmth—your own choices shape how you feel. So let's give it our best shot, together!"
Kiana clenched her fist and made a cheering gesture, then waved her hand and shattered the restraints Sigurd had left behind. Her figure faded away from the consciousness realm.
Sirin, now free, slowly descended and stood in silence for a long time. Then, she walked over and sat on the throne.
Raising her hand, she brushed the armrest, as if some trace of their warmth still lingered.
"I wasn't wrong… Humans deserve my judgment…"
"I wasn't wrong… I can never forgive…"
Leaning against the throne, Sirin mumbled broken sentences under her breath.
In her heart, hatred and rage still surged wildly, pulling at her emotions without rest.
And yet… what was this overwhelming sense of emptiness? This indescribable longing?
"Love? What a joke. Fake. I'd never crave something so foolish."
She clutched her chest, closed her eyes, and as if all her strength had drained from her, slumped back onto the throne—falling deeper and deeper into darkness.