Chapter 375: They Have No Practical Value
When the stone gate swung open, a hazy white light spilled out from within—milky and soft, obscuring everything beyond.
Sigurd stepped through first.
Kiana and the others followed, one by one.
Outside the door, Senti tilted her head, rubbed her chin, and grinned smugly.
"Heh, the me from fifty thousand years ago… that Old Timer! This time, I'm definitely going to give her a scare!"
Behind her, Fu Hua and the floating Book of Fuxi both sighed in unison.
The Elysian Realm was a special facility that housed the memory constructs of the Thirteen Flame-Chasers of the previous civilization. Within it resided a backup of Fu Hua's own memories from fifty thousand years ago—but Fu Hua herself had no interest in meeting that past self.
She believed that the her from fifty millennia past wouldn't have wanted such a reunion either. That memory construct existed within its own time, frozen in the past. The future of the real world should be carved out by the present Fu Hua, not one long gone.
However… logic and Senti had never gotten along.
Once that girl decided to play a prank, there was no stopping her. Fu Hua and Book of Fuxi had no choice but to accompany her—otherwise, who knew what kind of trouble she might stir up later.
"Yahoo! The great immortal has arrived!"
With a cheerful cry, Senti bounced forward and leapt straight into the white light.
Fu Hua and Book of Fuxi exchanged a helpless glance, sighed again, and followed her in.
. . .
Entering the Elysian Realm required passing through a phase shift between reality and illusion.
Sigurd had experienced it before, but the others hadn't. Except for Fu Hua—whose mind was always clear—the rest briefly lost their senses to the disorienting transition.
When they came to, what greeted their eyes wasn't the high-tech laboratory they expected, but an endless surge of black tides—sticky, wet, and ominous—radiating a suffocating stench of death. The tar-like waves writhed as if alive, spreading toward them from some distant darkness.
"Ahahahahaha~"
A silvery laugh rang out from the shadows—crisp and musical, somewhere between a girl and a child. It should have been sweet and beautiful, but instead it clawed at the heart, brimming with eerie malice.
Sigurd looked down at the creeping black tide nearing his feet, then up at the crimson sky, and sighed.
"I told you not to use proper facilities as horror set pieces. I did criticize you about the sky last time."
"Shut up!!"
The writhing tides froze for an instant at his comment. The laughter cut off abruptly—replaced by a furious roar.
In the next moment, the black ocean surged violently, as if the very ground had turned into a bottomless pit of darkness.
A figure floated up amid the chaos—seated atop a hovering device adorned with writhing metal tendrils. Beneath the hem of her dress, the pale curve of a bare foot peeked out like a forbidden glimpse of something beautiful and deadly.
Her outfit was a blend of gray-white and black, accented by golden-green metallic ornaments. A black crown with three sharp points rested atop her head, giving the impression of coiled serpents.
Though she appeared to be a petite and charming young girl, the aura she exuded was anything but gentle. Her long green hair shimmered with venomous hues, and her slit-pupiled eyes—green fading into pink—held no warmth, only the chilling menace of a cold-blooded predator.
In short, she was dangerous—anyone with eyes could see that.
And yet, that very combination of lethal threat and fragile beauty created a strange, irresistible allure.
An unsettling balance of deadly and adorable, merging into one being.
Fu Hua softly murmured her name.
"Dr. Mobius…"
"Oh? And who might this be?"
The girl's lips curled into a delighted smile. "Why, isn't this my adorable little lab rat, Hua? Long time no see! Interested in visiting my lab again? I've got new toys—I promise you'll never want to leave~~"
Mobius gazed at Fu Hua with the innocent excitement of a child spotting her favorite doll.
Fu Hua's lips parted slightly, a complex emotion flickering in her eyes before she smiled calmly and replied,
"No, thank you. I have my own path to walk. And besides, if I ever need anything, I can just ask Sigurd."
"That's different! That thing could never be the same as me! Only I can grant you greater power—true evolution on a deeper level!"
Mobius's innocent smile vanished in an instant, her voice turning sharp as her gaze snapped toward Sigurd, blazing with killing intent.
"So you've finally shown yourself again, you stubborn, old-fashioned fossil!"
"I'm neither stubborn nor old-fashioned," Sigurd replied calmly. "But stability does matter. Evolution begins with existence—your experiments show little regard for survival. They have no practical value."
"There you go again! What do you know? The goal of evolution is infinity! Within infinity lies the secret to eternity! Clinging to your so-called stable structures is meaningless—what already exists has long since proven itself vulnerable to the Honkai's destruction!"
"What does that even mean—'within infinity lies the secret to eternity'? Are you trying to convince me with conjectures you've never proven? You sound like one of those third-rate pseudoscientists."
Sigurd's words weren't loud or aggressive. His tone was calm, almost conversational—but that very calmness made it clear how firmly he believed in his own reasoning, and how thoroughly he rejected Mobius's extreme ideals.
Mobius's killing intent gradually subsided, replaced by a chilling serenity. Then, after a brief silence, the corner of her lips curved upward into a sultry smile—an oddly natural expression despite her youthful appearance.
"I really do love that unshakable attitude of yours," she purred. "The kind that refuses to admit you're wrong."
"Your condition's clearly gotten worse," Sigurd said flatly. "You should see Su for treatment… though, well, if it were curable, I'm sure he would've fixed you long ago."
"..."
Mobius still smiled—but if one looked closely, her delicate eyebrows were twitching ever so slightly.
"This is—the moment of ascension!"
Mobius chanted the words like an incantation.
In the next instant, the girl raised her black staff high. Viscous, dark-green matter surged from all directions, merging with the black tides on the ground and forming a terrifying vortex of darkness centered around her.
A bone-deep chill filled the air as the monstrous energy spread across heaven and earth.
At the same time, Kiana, Raiden Mei, Wendy, and Seele were already clad in their Herrscher battle attire. Weapons and powers symbolizing their authority flared into existence one by one. Behind Bronya, a colossal mechanical frame unfolded, humming with restrained power. Ann clenched two golden spears in her hands, her eyes cold and unwavering as she stared down the enemy.
They didn't know who this Mobius was, or what exactly was happening—but anyone daring to raise a hand against Sigurd would first have to answer to them.
Yet before they could strike, Sigurd raised a hand—motioning them to stand down.
The girls exchanged brief glances, hesitated, and reluctantly halted their attacks.
Sigurd stepped forward at an unhurried pace, his boots sinking into the writhing black sludge that coated the ground.
"So this is an improved version of artificial eruption? The degree of beastification looks higher than before… You've increased your synchronization ratio, haven't you? Too reckless. Losing your humanity isn't the right way to evolve. If not for your molting and rebirth traits, no one else could even attempt this and survive. So yes, I stand by what I said—this 'experiment' of yours have no practical value."
"Ahhhh!!"
The instant his words fell, the black cocoon of matter split apart—an enormous creature burst forth.
It was colossal, serpentine below the waist, humanoid above. A black spear gleamed in its hand, and its matte carapace shimmered with ominous resilience. Beneath the layered black exoskeleton around its abdomen, one could faintly see Mobius's slumbering form embedded within.
A suffocating wave of death filled the realm. Even the Herrschers, beings who transcended normal human limits, couldn't suppress the instinctive terror clawing at their chests.
ROOOOAR—!
With a spine-chilling bellow, the monstrous beast lunged, its spear thrusting forward like a bolt of shadow—piercing straight through Sigurd's chest.
"Sig!!"
"Mr. Sigurd!!"
"Sigurd-oniichan!!"
Blood trickled from the gaping hole in Sigurd's chest, staining his white coat scarlet. The horrified cries that rang out from all sides made it clear just how terrifying the sight was for everyone watching.
Sigurd, however, simply touched his chin, raising one hand in a calm "stand down" gesture. With his other hand, he flicked the massive spear blade that had pierced straight through his chest.
Clang. Clang
The sound was sharp and metallic.
Then, the blood that had been seeping from his wound suddenly reversed its flow—running back into his body through his torn clothes and skin. Within seconds, the bleeding stopped, and aside from the spear still impaled through him, it was as if he'd never been injured at all.
At the same time, the colossal serpent-bodied monster vanished into the writhing black mist—revealing Mebius, her right arm transformed into a massive spike, still thrust deep into Sigurd's chest.
"Go on," she sneered, her lips curving into a venomous smile. "Say 'a complete disaster' one more time, like last time. I dare you."
Sigurd looked up at her, his expression utterly calm and indifferent.
"I only said it had no practical value," he replied. "I never denied the sophistication of your work. This time, it's not a disaster—extreme methods can also be powerful. Well done."
"Hmph! Still talking down to me in that superior tone. Who do you think you are? Even Mei wouldn't dare talk to me like that!"
"That's why she worked herself to death," Sigurd said coolly. "If she'd been willing to handle you more forcefully, things might've turned out differently."
"Oh? Should I take that as a compliment?"
Mebius raised an eyebrow, the malice in her eyes dimming slightly. She had already impaled him, after all—some of her resentment had naturally been spent in the act.
But then, a sudden shadow expanded in her vision.
"Eh—!?"
Her devilish grin froze. Sigurd's hand was now clamped around her head.
"Y-you— you really think my attacks are just physical damage? Don't you dare try anything reckless—I'm warning you! I won't let you grab me and slam me into the floor again like last time!"
True to her words, dark green lines began to spread across Sigurd's face, coursing through his veins like poison.
Sigurd's hand remained firmly on her head. At his waist, a golden thread-wrapped sphere trembled violently.
In the next instant, the green lines receded from his skin—only to appear on Mebius's face instead, spreading fast.
Sigurd's expression did not change in the slightest. He looked down at her with cold, analytical eyes, devoid of pity.
"Your toxin's impressive, potent enough that even I would've had to endure it by sheer constitution, had I not obtained the Herrscher of Corruption's core. But compared to the Authority of Erosion, it's still lacking. You could strengthen it further, it would greatly improve your combat capability."
He said it as if giving a neutral performance review.
Sweat formed on Mebius's brow. Part of it was from the agony of her own toxin eating into her nerves—but more pressingly, Sigurd's grip on her head was tightening.
"Mmmgh—ahhh!!"
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