Frankly Speaking

“Shenhong must be fretting over his lack of magical ability, wouldn’t you say?” Xie Hai Zhu remarked, her voice betraying not an ounce of belief. “My knight, do you also harbor such anxieties?”

Lyte froze, his gaze fixed blankly on Xie Hai Zhu. A long silence stretched between them before he finally murmured, “Indeed, I once felt utterly worthless.”

No, that wasn’t right.

A keen awareness pricked Xie Hai Zhu; Lyte’s recent reaction struck her as oddly familiar.

It echoed the way Duanmu Yun sometimes regarded her, a look typically reserved for strangers.

‘Had Lyte encountered the former Hai Zhu?’

That had to be it.

Probing further would be ill-advised now.

“My knight, cultivate a little more self-assurance. You are already exceptionally capable.”

“I am grateful for Lady Hai Zhu’s commendation,” Lyte declared, placing a hand over his heart as if swearing an oath, “I shall endeavor to remain humble and ceaselessly refine my abilities.”

Just as expected, their exchange had grown official and formal. Yet, this was precisely as it should be; a spy for the Empire ought to possess such a degree of vigilance.

Now, take this lingering doubt back with you, and allow those fools to make their erroneous judgments.

Xie Hai Zhu let the topic drop, silently attending to the ruins for a time before speaking again:

“My knight, what are your impressions of this region?”

“Lady Hai Zhu, are you inquiring about my views on the Empire?”

“No, I am well aware of your strong disdain for the Empire. You must surely know what transpired in this very place, yes?”

At her words, Lyte’s expression grew distant, his voice imbued with a sense of reverence as he replied:

“I do. This is the very spot where His Majesty rallied his forces to stand against the Imperial army…”

A decade prior, the Empire had amassed an army of seven hundred thousand, laying siege to the Royal Capital.

The then-king and numerous nobles had long since abandoned the kingdom, fleeing in haste.

Only Nangong Yan remained, resolute in his commitment to buy time for his people’s evacuation and to stand with the kingdom until its very end.

“In that perilous moment,” Lyte exclaimed, his voice trembling with emotion, “it was you, Lady Hai Zhu, who intervened and salvaged everything!”

“Indeed, just as you’ve stated, I did intervene, and then…”

Xie Hai Zhu’s smile vanished, her gaze turning frigid as she stared at the blond youth, an overwhelming aura of icy coldness emanating from her.

“I destroyed everything.”

The chilling aura swiftly enveloped Lyte’s body, compelling him to his knees, where he trembled violently. His eyes grew distant, lost in a vision of this very place a decade earlier, yet in this harrowing illusion, he was not a knight of the kingdom, but an imperial aggressor.

In that terrifying projection, he was ultimately swept away by a single, devastating sword stroke from Xie Hai Zhu, who appeared as an avenging deity descended from the heavens.

His numerous comrades, his compatriots.

His life’s aspirations.

His yearning to return home to his loved ones.

The felicitous life he had yet to experience.

All of it vanished, extinguished by that single, impossibly frigid sword strike.

“Huu-ha, huu-ha…”

The harrowing illusion dissolved.

Lyte gasped for breath, his entire body drenched in cold sweat.

“Given all that… do you still believe I salvaged everything?” Xie Hai Zhu’s voice was devoid of warmth.

This was her chilling retort to Lyte’s recent praise in the classroom, where he had extolled her as gentle and kind.

Indeed, in this nation, she was revered as a saint.

Yet, to the people of the Empire, she was nothing less than a witch, or perhaps even the most malevolent Demon Lord the world had ever known!

“No.”

Lyte slowly rose to his feet, a vestige of fear still clinging to his features, not yet fully dispelled.

Yet, in an instant, that fear was supplanted by a surge of unwavering resolve that etched itself onto his face.

“Lady Hai Zhu is unequivocally the saint who saved this nation!”

“Would you dare utter those words to the citizens of the Empire?”

“I dare. This was a conflict between two nations, and the Empire, by invading the kingdom, was undeniably the initial aggressor!”

“Does being in the wrong grant one license for wanton slaughter?” Xie Hai Zhu offered a faint smile. “You haven’t forgotten what transpired afterward, have you? By your own reasoning, our kingdom, too, would now be considered an aggressor, wouldn’t it?”

Following the defense of the Royal Capital, the reinstated king had intended to depose Nangong Yan, a prince whose burgeoning prestige he deemed too threatening. However, Hai Zhu’s staunch support for Nangong Yan led to the king’s removal, and Nangong Yan subsequently ascended to the throne.

Subsequently, Hai Zhu embarked on campaigns across the land, unifying the Holy United Empire within a mere five years. This historical event, by any measure, saw the Vermillion Bird Kingdom transition from a victim to an aggressor.

“Lady Hai Zhu, are you implying that war itself possesses no inherent distinction between right and wrong?”

“More or less. But you are an Imperial, aren’t you? Do you truly harbor no personal feelings about my actions?”

This, in essence, was yet another perilous question.

To side with the kingdom would appear utterly heartless, raising suspicions that he might betray them again should sufficient personal gain present itself.

Conversely, to side with the Empire would instantly suggest a lingering loyalty to his former homeland, or even confirm him as a direct spy.

Incidentally, Xie Hai Zhu was, as ever, recording their entire conversation.

Indeed, she held Lyte in high regard.

Yet, if Lyte proved incapable of transforming adversity into opportunity, of surmounting every peril, she would abandon him without a moment’s hesitation.

In her current form, she no longer harbored the same reservations she had as a male; her sole concern was the successful completion of her objectives.

“To claim complete indifference would certainly be a falsehood.”

Lyte sighed, his gaze falling upon the occasional skeletal remains scattered within the ruins. With an expression of profound contemplation, he stated, “But Lady Hai Zhu did nothing wrong. Had you not annihilated over half of their soldiers at that time, that accursed emperor would never have relented in his assault.”

“As for those fallen Imperial soldiers, I cannot claim they were entirely innocent, nor can I presume how many were unwilling participants. Yet, I will extend them my sympathy, pity them, and mourn their loss. This is not because I was once an Imperial, but because I am a normal person possessed of a conscience.”

“Likewise, I am acutely aware that this tragedy unfolded solely due to the insatiable greed and hubris of the Imperial royal family and nobility! Therefore—”

Following a fleeting surge of anger, Lyte’s expression softened into one of concern as he looked at Xie Hai Zhu.

“Lady Hai Zhu, please do not succumb to self-reproach, nor allow those disparaging remarks to dampen your spirits! From your vantage point, safeguarding the kingdom was both your duty and the righteous course of action.”

Xie Hai Zhu’s lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“Why do you presume I would feel any guilt over this? Did you discern it once more? Or is it, again, a matter of shared feelings?”

“No, I cannot perceive Lady Hai Zhu’s thoughts, nor can I truly comprehend Lady Hai Zhu’s emotions. However, I have always sensed that you, Lady Hai Zhu, are seldom genuinely happy.”

How remarkably perceptive.

Xie Hai Zhu subtly manipulated her facial muscles, crafting a faint, knowing smile.

Yet, she was merely a puppet; it was only natural that she felt no joy.

Naturally, she harbored no guilt or self-reproach.

Moreover, it wasn’t truly she who had slain four hundred thousand Imperial soldiers—

“!”

In that precise moment, a cascade of vivid images surged into Xie Hai Zhu’s mind.

Amidst countless ruins, desperate citizens scattered in panicked flight.

And there she was, offering solace to a heartbroken, weeping black-haired girl.

“Duanmu Yun, rest assured, I will most certainly bring him back, and I will unequivocally save this nation.”

The scene shifted, and with a mere wave of her hand, she restored a black-haired youth, drenched in blood and clinging to life by a thread, to his full vitality.

Following that, confronted by hundreds of thousands of meticulously arrayed soldiers, she delivered a single, effortless sword stroke, imparting upon them the true meaning of the apocalypse.

Throughout this entire process, her demeanor had been akin to someone merely playing a game.

It was as though she were merely slashing at a string of numerical values, rather than extinguishing countless vibrant lives.

No, to be precise, every person in this world was, in her eyes, nothing more than an NPC, and she, the player, was free to indulge her every whim—

“Lady Hai Zhu, what has come over you?”

Lyte’s slightly urgent and flustered cry drew Xie Hai Zhu’s consciousness abruptly back to reality.