Chapter 355: Hera's Confusion
After taking a sip of her drink, Bronya spoke up:
"Sigurd said it long ago—to fight against the Honkai, we have to bind everyone onto the same warship. Thanks to the efforts of these past years, people are still afraid of the Honkai, but now they have a clear direction to resist. They know what they can do, what they must do. Compared to the last era, this unity and freedom from constraint are our greatest advantages. We need to preserve it… Everyone, don't neglect public opinion and education. Don't focus only on the head and forget the tail."
Hera and the others nodded together, accepting the reminder.
Then Hera smiled.
"Let's leave it at that. We don't really have much time to chat in depth anyway. Please, continue in your respective roles. Keep fighting for the future of humanity. Until next time."
She ended the call.
Once it was over, Hera raised her teacup—but her brilliant smile faltered.
"Fight for the future of humanity… When did I start saying such lofty, hollow words without ulterior intent?"
Crack!
The teacup suddenly shattered for no reason. Porcelain shards and tea spilled onto her elegant crimson gown, staining it and sending up wisps of steam from the heat.
Amber's hands, folded neatly before her stomach, trembled. After a brief pause, she knelt down. Quietly, she picked up the shards from Hera's lap, then produced a handkerchief and carefully wiped away the spilled tea.
Hera remained unresponsive, allowing Amber to tend to her. After a while, she suddenly tilted her head, picked up a pastry, and with a playful smile, held it toward Amber.
"Amber, ahhh~"
Amber's wiping hand stilled. She raised her gaze slightly, meeting the pure emerald eyes watching her with such gentle warmth.
So, kneeling before Hera's knees, Amber parted her lips just slightly.
"Ah…"
She accepted the morsel fed to her.
Hera smiled in satisfaction, reaching out to tenderly stroke Amber's silver hair.
"Does it taste good?"
"It does," Amber replied calmly.
Of course, since it was her own cooking that she praised, there was a touch of the seller flattering her own food in it.
Hera pressed a hand to her lips, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
"I poisoned it, you know."
"As long as it is your will, there is no problem, Lady Hera."
"Pfft! Fool. How could I ever harm my Amber? Of course I was teasing."
"Then… do you require Amber to act out a poisoned state, Lady Hera?"
Amber asked with her usual serenity—though, truthfully, she wanted to lay her head upon Hera's lap, to soothe her mistress's mood even a little. But the word restraint came to her first.
She was not Kallen, nor was she Theresa. Her entire being existed to obey and accompany her mistress. To overstep her bounds would only trouble the one she served.
Hera shook her head and let out a long sigh.
"No need. Amber, tell me—have I changed?"
"Amber does not know."
"Can't you see it?"
"Amber is only Lady Hera's subordinate."
Because she was only a subordinate, because her sole duty was to dedicate herself wholly to serving Hera, she had neither the right nor the place to concern herself with her mistress's changes.
Hera understood Amber's meaning. But those words made her press her lips together as she gazed down at the obedient girl kneeling before her—so perfect it was as though crafted by the gods. Hera exhaled a faint, melancholy sigh.
'This won't do, Amber.'
Yes. Hera did not care about her own fate. But Amber… now that Hera's own obsession had already found its answer, she finally had the spare strength to look behind her. And only then did the girl, who had placed her entire being upon Hera's shoulders, truly enter her gaze—becoming a question she could no longer ignore.
If she were to disappear… what would become of Amber?
For the first time, Hera had no answer.
. . . .
The campaign against the Herrscher of Corruption continued to advance in an orderly fashion.
Meanwhile, the enemy's resistance only grew fiercer. Waves of infected machines hurled themselves in suicidal assaults against the Honkai-disintegration field generators, trying to shatter the encirclement. Mutated forms of the remaining aggregates appeared in increasing variety, as if attempting to discover a method to breach the field and spread their infection beyond it—unfortunately for them, Yae Sakura, armed with the Key of Corruption, roamed the world through the Herrscher of Thousands' Theater of Domination, keeping a firm grip on the Herrscher of Corruption's evolutionary path. There would be no opening to exploit.
The greater nuisance was its attempts to modify already-infected machines to press into the underground, the deep sea, and the skies—seeking any avenue of escape.
But… fleeing underground or into the heavens? Did it forget what a Herrscher was? Beings that could dance within the Earth's core and still survive. Humanity had more than a handful of such titans in this era. And you? You're a Herrscher yourself—yet you think you can run? Run where?
Humanity had not yet diverted the energy to trace the true origin of this Herrscher of Corruption. Its source, its history, its knowledge—all still mysteries. But Bronya, with an IQ of 180 and war experience beyond measure, stood at the helm. Alongside her were Einstein, Tesla, and Otto—the kind of brains so rare they could be counted across both fifty millennia past and fifty millennia future combined. To challenge such a lineup in a battle of wits? Even if the Herrscher's true self were a resurrected Dr. Mei, the odds were bleak.
In short, the Herrscher of Corruption had already done its utmost, standing alone against an entire civilization.
For humanity, the road was not without its twists. But victory—slowly, steadily—was coming closer, unstoppable.
Grid by grid, Bronya's encirclement declared the crisis resolved. From the tens of thousands of sectors it once spanned across the globe, the Herrscher's territory shrank by orders of magnitude—down to four digits, then three, then two. By the third month of the worldwide mechanical collapse, the Herrscher's space of survival had been compressed to a mere few thousand square meters deep within the New Continent.
It's roughly the size of a single great city. Yet on all sides lay overwhelming firepower, wrapped in the protective lattice of disintegration fields. Hera even parked her floating skybase right at the city's edge, looking down leisurely upon the chaos of countless frenzied machines.
"Whew—at last, it's almost over. What an ordeal. Still, after such devastation, it's the perfect chance to replan the global layout. Plenty of new facilities can be built without hesitation now. I suppose… there's blessing in the curse."
Welt seated himself opposite Hera, accepting a cup of fine tea from Amber. He downed it in one gulp before exhaling a deep, weary sigh.
Yes—the outlook seemed bright. But one could not overlook the millions of sacrifices behind it. Civilization as a whole might remain intact, but each life lost was still a precious, irreplaceable existence.
Welt closed his eyes, steadying his breath and calming his spirit.
There was still so much to be done. He could not stop. He had to keep moving forward, until victory was won. That alone was the truest comfort he could give the dead.
Hera cast him a glance as she sipped her tea, saying nothing.
She knew Welt's will—how unshakably strong it was. He did not need words of comfort, only a brief moment of reprieve.
Beneath them stretched a broad platform, extended out from the skybase, hovering directly over the swarming tide of machines below.
And then—one after another—figures appeared upon the platform, each arrival marked by their own dazzling phenomenon.
Durandal descended like a falling star. Raiden Mei arrived with a roar of thunder. Wendy appeared soundlessly, as though she had always been there. Seele was wreathed in black and white butterflies. Ana and Siegfried stepped forth cloaked in biting frost.
Each aura of Honkai power was distinct, yet terrifying all the same. One by one, their presences filled the air, causing the mechanical hordes below to lift their heads in unison, emitting a cacophony of electronic noise.
Was it a roar of fury? A cry of intimidation?
Or perhaps… simply the shriek of machines in utter panic.
<+>
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