"Out of more than two hundred individuals, only one kind soul initially guided me towards Virtual Space, allowing me to offer some modest gifts. The rest were uncooperative; all I brought back were their bodies... Truly vexing."
Under the starlit night on the balcony, temporarily free from various pressing matters, Zeke and others gathered here to sip tea and take a brief respite.
Coincidentally, it was also the time for Hera's live stream, focusing on interrogating the sole captured member of the Herrscher of a Thousand People—an event demanding special attention.
"Cough! Can you hear me? Is the video clear now?"
"The audio signal is via quantum communication, and the visuals are realistic 3D projections. Apart from being intangible, it feels almost as if you're there—stop wasting time with these antics, Hera. Let's get down to business."
"Received~"
"I'm starting to miss your male form. Find some time and acquire a stronger male body. If you keep this up, sooner or later, you won't be able to revert."
"Huh? (???)`? Is it my fault?" Hera feigned innocence, even hinting a slight sense of grievance.
As an archbishop who had survived over five hundred years by playing it safe, he valued practicality and disregarded mundane human emotions—what was wrong with that?
Seeing Hera's nonchalant response, Zeke didn't press further. To be fair, aside from his disgust for deliberate cuteness, Zeke didn't find anything inherently flawed with this pragmatic approach.
Zeke shook his head, dismissing these trivial matters from his mind, and turned his attention to the golden-haired girl gradually materializing beside him, as if truly present before his eyes.
Her limbs were restrained, suspended mid-air, facing Hera who sat calmly sipping tea. Durandal, clad in her black military uniform, stood guard nearby with hands clasped behind her back—a majestic Herrscher of a Thousand People.
"Mm... Excellent tea."
"Could I have a cup too? Your watchdog is rather rough; I haven't had water all day and am dying of thirst." The suspended golden-haired girl lifted her head, speaking fearlessly.
The golden-haired girl suspended mid-air lifted her head and spoke fearlessly.
She bore a different appearance from what Welt knew—apparently, this was how she presented herself in reality. While not unattractive, her gloomy demeanor gave off an unfavorable impression.
Durandal, likened to a "watchdog," remained unfazed and emotionless, standing quietly like a motionless statue.
Hera crossed her legs and set down the teacup with a smile.
"There's plenty of tea, but unfortunately, I don't feel inclined to offer you any. After all, as a Herrscher, thirst won't harm you."
"Tsk! How utterly cold-hearted, Lady Hera Schanias... Or should I address you as Lady Eleanor Schariac?" the Herrscher of a Thousand People said with a grin.
Hera's smile vanished instantly.
"Where did you learn that name?"
"Every existence leaves its mark. Eleanor Schariac, the adopted sister of Archbishop Otto, was once a notable figure within Schicksal five centuries ago. However, just before Otto ascended to the position of archbishop, she mysteriously disappeared. Even her very name seemed intentionally erased—from what I can tell, only Archbishop Otto himself could have achieved such historical suppression."
The Herrscher of a Thousand People eloquently shared the historical information they had gathered, along with their deductions.
Hera listened attentively without interrupting.
Thus, the Herrscher continued, "There could be two reasons for Otto's actions: First, Eleanor's disappearance might have been linked to Schicksal's power struggles or directly involved Otto himself, and he wished to avoid revisiting such painful memories. Second, Eleanor may not have died at all but instead assumed a new identity due to some grander plan requiring her anonymity.
We also discovered that the existence of 'Hera Schariac' in history is remarkably elusive and vague. There is no definitive origin traceable, yet in the handful of fragmented records, she consistently appears by Otto's side, subtly holding a status akin to his own.
Throughout Schicksal's five-hundred-year history, only two Schariac individuals achieved this position—Eleanor and you. Eleanor mysteriously vanished, while you enigmatically emerged, both with scarce documentation and unique statuses. It's hard not to draw connections, isn't it?"
"Hissss..."
Hera gasped sharply, instinctively leaning back—a stroke of genius!
She had meticulously crafted her persona as Hera; the more obscure and ambiguous, the greater the speculation from outsiders, ultimately leading them to concoct plausible versions of "the truth."
Surprisingly, even Eleanor's existence from years past had been unearthed by the Herrscher of a Thousand People, drawing parallels with Hera—an idea truly worthy of genius!
It wasn't entirely their fault, though. Very few knew Hera's true identity, and those individuals were beyond the reach of any investigation by the Herrscher of a Thousand People.
Given the scarce historical records, arriving at this connection required meticulous and logical research.
'Eleanor... such a foolish girl.'
Hera leaned back gently, releasing a soft sigh. This time, it was not feigned.
The deliberate omission of that child's presence indeed stemmed from... feelings of guilt. Each recollection brought regret and sorrow, so perhaps it was enough for him to remember alone. He doubted the child would have wanted others' judgment anyway.
Then, Hera relaxed her posture, revealing her usual enigmatic smile—neither confirming nor denying anything. After all, once they've made up their minds, denial wouldn't dissuade them from entertaining these speculations. She said,
"Such thorough investigation suggests you have ulterior motives regarding me. So, this is why you didn't choose suicide halfway through—you intended to meet me?"
Hera smiled at the Herrscher of a Thousand People, her lingering doubt now resolved.
After all, Zeke had no shortage of methods to restrain and control Herrschers, yet even with those tools, he couldn't capture one alive.
What made Durandal succeed where others failed? Could it be that this particular individual was unusually sensitive to pain?
As Hera anticipated, the Herrscher nodded, letting out a resigned sigh.
"Yes, I indeed came here for you. At Anti-Entropy, dealing with Welt is already challenging enough, but Zeke Kaslana is even more enigmatic. He managed to create a nearly flawless fake background, making his true origins impossible to trace. Although based on his silver hair, blue eyes, and mastery over Judgment of Shamash, he must undoubtedly be from the ancient Kaslana lineage... In any case, finding vulnerabilities there seems futile, so I decided to start with you instead. My presence here is merely coincidental; originally, someone more specialized should have been assigned. Who could've guessed your watchdog would conveniently cross my path?"
"Oh? So then... what is my weakness?"
"Ana Schariac, your junior, the current Herrscher of Ice. Her condition isn't stable, right? You can protect her temporarily, but what happens when she loses control again? For humanity's greater good, you'll ultimately have to abandon her—how pitiful wouldn't that be?"
The Herrscher of a Thousand People leaned forward slightly, her tone filled with pity and interrogation.
Meanwhile, Hera's smile had once again vanished.
Continuing persuasively, the individual form of the Herrscher said, "Ana hasn't done anything wrong! Being chosen by God merely proves her exceptional qualities. Yet because of this, she faces punishment—death followed by dissection isn't even the worst fate. The most dreadful scenario might involve being kept conscious like a living specimen, watching as people study her body. Miss Hera, as an ancient Schariac who has witnessed generation after generation meet tragic ends, can you truly bear to subject this kind-hearted, innocent child to such torment?"
"...Be quiet! Reveal your intelligence and plans, or I'll search your mind myself."
Hera switched the position of her crossed legs, her expression unreadable.
As if confirming something, the Herrscher of a Thousand People burst out laughing, "Let's end our conversation here! My brain is crucial; I cannot let you poke around carelessly. We... shall chat again another time. Ha ha ha!"
The laughter abruptly ceased within moments. The Herrscher of a Thousand People lowered her head, her suspended body going limp as it hung lifelessly.
Durandal had already approached and lifted the woman's chin, noticing those eyes—wide open yet devoid of any spark.
"Her breathing and heartbeat have stopped; Honkai Energy inside her is dissipating, and other vital signs are..." Durandal paused, noticing something peculiar. "Wait, what's this?"
From the Herrscher's nostrils flowed blood mixed with traces of pale white fragments.
"That's brain matter. Similar to Zeke, they destroy their brains just before death, allowing their consciousnesses to fully depart without leaving any chance to extract information," Hera explained nonchalantly.
Durandal's expression momentarily froze, realizing she had inadvertently wiped some of that strange blood with her delicate fingertips, almost placing them under her nose for inspection. She initially thought it was residue from some unique ability, not immediately associating it with brain fragments.
It wasn't entirely her fault. Despite experiencing numerous brutal battlefields, her adversaries were always Honkai Beasts and Zombies. Who would casually study human brain matter amidst such chaos?!