Chapter 311: Like A Mother Pleading For Her Daughter
The four women from the Emberya Empire, now clean and refreshed, soon returned to the fully repaired palace and were each given a seat by Sigurd.
And so, four stunningly distinct women—some youthful and adorable, others charmingly pure, cold and elegant, or radiant and graceful—sat together, creating a breathtaking tableau.
Sigurd rested one hand on the table, fingers tapping rhythmically. His expression remained unreadable, though his gaze quietly shifted to the small head peeking through the doorway.
"Come in."
Sigurd said indifferently.
The girl outside stepped in with tiny, hesitant steps—her hands tightly covering her face, effectively blocking her own view.
Thud!
"Ah!"
Senti walked straight into a pillar. Forced to drop her hands, she rubbed her aching forehead and gave the pillar a furious kick.
Boom!
A corner of the solid stone column chipped off, cracks quickly spreading across its entire surface.
Realizing she'd just caused trouble—again—Senti scrambled to hug the pillar tightly, as if trying to hold it together with her arms alone.
Of course, it was futile. The cracks reached all the way to the top, and although the pillar hadn't collapsed yet, anyone could tell it had already lost its structural function.
"I-I-It wasn't on purpose!"
Still hugging the pillar, Senti turned her bruised face toward Sigurd, trying hard to appear calm.
Sigurd simply stared at her, expressionless. Only when Senti shrank back under his gaze did he finally wave his hand and say:
"Forget it. I'll just fix it again."
"Oh, good. You've finally realized that compared to me, this kind of thing is worthless. So stop fussing over small things, Sigurd. You should be more generous!"
"...Sigh…"
Sigurd let out a weary sigh. It was that kind of soul-draining frustration, the kind he'd experienced countless times with the Kiana at home. He never expected to find himself dealing with a second one now.
Then, he took out a brush and paper and began to sketch.
"Wait, wait, wait! What are you writing?! Are you keeping tabs on me!? Please no!"
Senti, now completely ignoring the pillar, rushed over and leaned in to look at what Sigurd was doing.
To her surprise, it wasn't a written complaint—but a sketch. A surprisingly detailed portrait of her, bruised and battered.
"Huh?"
She sighed in relief at first, then quickly puffed her cheeks in displeasure.
"Why are you drawing something like this!? Are you trying to humiliate me?! Stop it!"
She reached to snatch the brush from Sigurd, her tone full of indignation.
But Sigurd calmly looked up at her and replied:
"If I don't draw this, how am I supposed to prove to Little Xuan that I've already dealt with your mess, so she'll let it slide?"
"...That makes sense!"
Her eyes lit up. She immediately handed the brush back to him.
"In that case, make it look even worse! Puff up this cheek more! Darken the bruise under this eye! And here—make the forehead look super painful! Oh, oh! Don't forget the tears—make them sparkle! Make it as tragic and pitiful as possible! You got this!"
Senti began giving enthusiastic pointers as Sigurd enhanced the already lifelike sketch into something far more dramatic and pitiful.
After a while, she looked at the completed picture and nodded with satisfaction, patting Sigurd on the shoulder.
"Nicely done! You've got real talent, Sigurd. You might just be a future grandmaster painter—this is divine recognition from an immortal, you know!"
"Want to take some photos and videos too? That might be more convincing."
"Great idea! We have to make sure Little Xuan drops this issue!"
And so, under Sigurd's direction and with the aid of the drone-bees, they recorded a sorrowful video "documenting" Senti being tragically beaten by Sigurd.
Once everything was done, Senti finally patted her chest and let out a relieved sigh:
"Ahhh, I misjudged you. You're actually pretty reasonable!"
Senti waved her hand grandly. "Alright, alright, I won't hold today's incident against you. Now go get me something delicious!"
Sigurd, having carefully stored away the sketch and all the recordings, crossed one leg over the other and spoke with a calm, almost lazy tone:
"Say, if this material were to accidentally leak out… do you think the immortal's dignified image would completely collapse?"
"???"
For a moment, Senti's mind went completely blank.
Then, her long gray hair—usually straight and waist-length—began to float ominously without wind. She trembled as she raised her tightly clenched little fists.
"You dare trick me!?"
Sigurd continued on in the same slow, maddening voice:
"Just imagine… If this got out, the public's reverence for the Immortal might vanish entirely, replaced by idle chatter like: 'Oh wow, that so-called Immortal got beaten up and cried?' Even Seele, Rozaliya, and Liliya might secretly giggle behind your back. That awe and admiration? Gone—forever."
"AAAHHH!! DESTROY THEM! DESTROY EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW!"
Furious, Senti grabbed Sigurd by the shoulders and began shaking him violently.
Reputation mattered! Even immortals fought for face! If these things got out, her dignity would be ground into dust. How could she ever maintain her authority again?
Sigurd's fish-eyed, blank stare never changed, no matter how much she shook him.
Finally, Senti drooped her head in defeat.
"…What do you want in return?"
"Here's the task list. Keep it safe."
Sigurd handed her a long checklist.
Snatching it from him with a sour face, Senti began to read, her expression darkening line by line.
"Labor at the construction site of the new academy in the southern district. Clear 200 acres of farmland by hand at the northern manor. Volunteer at the royal orphanage. Clean Granny Wang's house on East Second Street. Help Old Liu's daughter in the west market find her missing puppy—"
Every task had one thing in common: She had to complete them alone, with no help from Fu Hua.
With every new line, Senti's expression grew darker, until she reached the final condition—her hands started trembling, and black mist laced with killing intent seeped from her skin.
"You absolute—!!"
Sigurd cut her off calmly:
"Alternatively, I could just leak the footage without telling Little Xuan it was part of your punishment… Let her think this whole thing still needs to be dealt with. What do you think?"
"…What a well-designed mission list! I'll… go… handle it immediately!!"
BOOM!!
Senti burst out of the palace like a typhoon, her violent exit blowing over various furnishings. The cracked pillar finally gave way and collapsed completely.
Sigurd watched it all unfold quietly. A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Sigh… Was this too much for her?"
Fu Hua's projection hovered beside Sigurd, her expression tinged with concern as she spoke.
In truth, what she really wanted to do was plead.
To Senti, these tasks probably seemed like petty punishment—but to Fu Hua, they were trials. Observations. A test of restraint.
If Senti couldn't hold herself back during them—if she stirred up trouble or revealed herself to be dangerous and uncontrollable—then wouldn't the fears once Book of Fuxi said become a grim prophecy fulfilled?
"You're worried she'll mess up, and I'll end up destroying her?"
Sigurd asked the question lightly, but directly.
"…Honestly? A little." Fu Hua admitted. "She really doesn't have a bad heart—she just needs time to learn, to adapt. Sigurd, please… be patient with her, okay?"
"You're overthinking it."
Sigurd replied nonchalantly. "I've got experience with kids. I'm not that rough."
To him, the war against the Honkai was already burdened with overwhelming pressure. Any potential ally, especially one as powerful—and as reachable—as Senti, was far too valuable to discard easily.
She wasn't just a Herrscher—she was a reasonable Herrscher. One with incredible strength and the potential to further enhance even top-tier warriors like Fu Hua.
Of course he'd show patience. Of course he'd be tolerant.
"Then I'm relieved."
Fu Hua smiled, her heart finally at ease.
Sigurd might sound casual, but Fu Hua knew—he wouldn't joke about something like this. From his attitude, it seemed he viewed Senti far more favorably than she had imagined. As long as he was willing to give her a chance… then Fu Hua believed Senti would one day be acknowledged.
She turned to gaze at the direction Senti had disappeared into, her eyes filled with softness and hope. She said nothing more.
Fu Hua didn't want to extinguish Senti's innocence and sincerity. But Senti did need to learn how to behave, to understand that unrestrained destruction was not okay.
As long as Sigurd wasn't looking at her with cold judgment, then this kind of guidance—this tempering—was something Fu Hua wholeheartedly welcomed.
Sigurd then turned his attention back to the four girls of the Emberya Empire, who were sitting obediently in their seats.
"Military affairs, civil development, ideological reforms, administrative structure, educational expansion… You've barely started your reports. Continue. As for Theresa's situation—"
He glanced briefly at the indignant girl across from him.
"We'll discuss it after the serious matters are done."
"Hold it right there! I'm not Theresa! My name is Zhuge Kongming! Zhuge Kongming! Got it!?"
Because of Senti's nonsense earlier, Zhuge Kongming had become incredibly sensitive to this "Theresa" misnaming. She burst out impulsively, unable to hold back.
Sigurd stared at her intently.
He furrowed his brow.
Stroked his chin.
Contemplated in silence.
And then… nodded.
Kongming, breathing a little heavier now, saw this and relaxed. She felt hopeful, as if the misunderstanding was finally over. Maybe now, she thought, he'd finally take her seriously.
And then—
Sigurd offered her a mild smile and said, as if suddenly enlightened:
"Ahh, I see now. Got it, Theresa. Understood, Theresa. No problem, Theresa."
"SHE TOTALLY LEARNED THIS FROM YOU, DIDN'T SHE!!"
And just like that, the once-proud heir to the Emberya Empire, the self-proclaimed most brilliant strategist in five hundred years, the illustrious Crown Heir… completely broke down.
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