The maid's words were a bucket of ice water, but my expression morphed instantly. The smoldering intensity I'd shown Seraphina vanished, replaced by a mask of raw, frantic panic.
"Lyra!" I exclaimed, my voice cracking with manufactured terror. I grabbed the maid by the shoulders, my grip just a little too tight. "What happened? Take me to her. Now!"
I didn't wait for an answer. I released the maid and broke into a dead sprint, my fine silk robes billowing behind me. I didn't look back to see if Seraphina was following. An older brother, devoted to his younger sister, wouldn't. He'd only have eyes for his family's crisis.
It was all an act, of course. A flawless, perfectly executed performance.
As I ran, my mind was a whirlwind of cold calculation. Lyra… collapsed? A regressor of her caliber, a woman with forty years of knowledge, wouldn't make such a careless mistake. This wasn't an accident. It was a message. A move on the grand chessboard.
She was accelerating her own timeline, drawing attention to herself. Why? Was she trying to secure some resource? Feign a weakness to draw out an enemy? Or was this a ploy to get closer to someone?
My sprint was a blur. Servants and guards leaped out of my way as the 'panicked' Fourth Prince tore through the palace grounds. My destination was the eastern training grounds, a place reserved for the royal family.
I burst through the arched gateway and skidded to a halt.
The scene was already crowded. My father, the Emperor, was there, his face a thunderous scowl. Several royal physicians were hovering, their expressions grim. And in the center of it all, lying on a silken mat, was Lyra.
She was pale, her eyes closed, a faint sheen of sweat on her brow. She looked fragile, ethereal… and completely full of shit.
My [Eye of Scrutiny] flared to life, feeding me the data I craved.
Name: Lyra Ravencrest
Cultivation: Body Tempering Realm - 4th Stage
Disposition: Guarded (Calculating…)
Status: Feigning Qi Deviation. Internal energy is stable but deliberately chaotic.
Hidden Thought: 'Is he here yet? This should be enough to force Father to call upon the Alchemist Guild. He has to notice me now…'
My fists clenched at my sides. So that was her game.
The Alchemist Guild. And the one she wanted to "notice" her could only be him. Not Lin Feng—it was too early for that. This was someone else. A stepping stone. A tool she knew about from our last life.
"Father!" I cried, rushing to her side and falling to my knees. I reached for her hand, my own trembling with practiced desperation. "Lyra! What happened to her?"
One of the royal physicians, a trembling old bastard named Elric, bowed low. "Your Majesty, Your Highness… it appears the Princess pushed herself too hard. Her Qi is in turmoil. A severe case of cultivation deviation. We… we are doing all we can, but her meridians are sealed."
"Useless!" my father roared, his voice shaking the very air. "You are the finest physicians in the empire, and you can do nothing?"
"This requires an Alchemist, Your Majesty," Elric stammered. "Someone who can concoct a 'Meridian Soothing Pill' of at least the third rank. Our knowledge is in medicine, not the Dao of Pills."
And there it is, I thought, my expression still a mask of despair. The hook has been cast.
This was my chance. A golden opportunity to insert myself into her plans. If I played this right, I could become the solution to the problem she herself created.
I looked up at my father, my eyes wide with a desperate plea. "Father, I know someone. A young, reclusive alchemist I met in the city. They say his talent is… otherworldly. He might be able to help!"
It was a complete and utter lie. I had no idea who she was targeting. But by claiming I did, I could force her hand.
My father looked at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He probably expected me to weep uselessly. He didn't expect a solution.
"An alchemist? Who?" he demanded.
Before I could invent a name, a calm, cool voice cut through the tension.
"The Prince's concern is admirable."
I turned. Seraphina had arrived, moving with a silent grace that belied the urgency of the situation. She stood beside my father, her expression one of composed sympathy. She had followed me after all. My audience.
"However," she continued, her gaze sweeping over the physicians, "relying on an unknown factor is risky. The Alchemist Guild has a branch here in the capital. Their Vice-Guild Master, a young prodigy named Jian Yue, is famed for his skill with third-rank pills. Surely the Emperor's command would bring him here at once."
My eyes met hers. She thought she was helping, offering a logical, powerful solution. She had no idea she had just walked straight into Lyra's trap.
I could see the faint, almost imperceptible smirk on Lyra's "unconscious" face.
Jian Yue. That was the name. The tool.
But I wasn't going to let my sister's plan unfold so easily. I needed to control the narrative.
"No!" I said, my voice sharp. "The Guild is slow. Bureaucratic. We need help now. This alchemist I know lives in the Azure District. I can fetch him myself. I'll be faster!"
My father hesitated, torn between the established power of the Guild and the supposed speed of my mysterious contact.
And then, Lyra played her trump card.
A pained, soft moan escaped her lips. A single, perfect tear rolled down her cheek from her closed eye.
"Kae…len…" she whispered, her voice so faint it was barely audible. "Help… me…"
The entire courtyard fell silent.
My performance, my lies, Seraphina's logic—it all vanished. In that moment, she had seized control. She, the helpless, dying princess, had placed her faith not in the Guild, not in the Emperor, but in her "beloved" brother. She was forcing me to follow her script.
It was a masterful move. A checkmate. She knew I couldn't refuse without looking like a monster.
A cold smile touched my heart, even as my face remained a mask of anguish.
Well played, little sister, I thought. The game is truly on.
"I'm coming, Lyra!" I declared to the entire court. "I will bring help! I swear it!"
I turned and sprinted away, a hero on a desperate mission.
But as I left the training grounds, the system, that cold and pragmatic god in my mind, flashed a notification. It wasn't a quest. It wasn't a warning. It was a simple observation, presented as cold, hard data. And it changed everything.
[ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
[Subject: Lyra Ravencrest's 'Qi Deviation' contains a trace signature of a foreign spiritual poison.]
[Poison Signature Match Found in System Database...]
[Origin: The Netherworld Depths. A substance known as 'Soul-Tatter Venom'.]
[Conclusion: The subject did not feign this state alone. She had help from a third party with connections to the Netherworld.]