Volume 2

Chapter 57: The Surge of Fate

In the Babel Tower, Hendrik, having concluded a meeting, rubbed his temples and let out a soft sigh.

The impact of the Data System on Babel Tower far exceeded everyone’s expectations, with forces and individuals coming to negotiate and communicate in an endless stream, even to this day, leaving Hendrik struggling to cope.

The fight over Grand Duke Sainthue’s legacy was gradually nearing its end.

Solen, who had always remained neutral among the Supreme Nine Seats, currently held the lead, though he promised to use most of it for the development of the Ether Academy; followed closely by a faction of pure scholars with little bias in their stance.

Surprisingly, the most powerful factions had quieted down, and the Essence Grand Duke and Grand Duke Source Tree, both located in the southern territory like Grand Duke Sainthue’s domain, had gained little advantage—a development that was quite intriguing.

Grand Duke Sainthue represented the most radical faction of the Ether Academy.

His fall and the dismantling of his influence meant the academy’s external pressure on other academic organizations was restrained and the ones inheriting these assets were predominantly neutral factions.

In this shift, Babel Tower inexplicably became one of the beneficiaries.

It could only be said that Mingfuluo’s stance at the time had indeed saved Babel Tower, though the cost was that Babel Tower would truly become Anselm’s vassal… yet no one in Babel Tower seemed to object.

Thus, Hendrik felt no discontent over his exhaustion; on the contrary, Babel Tower’s visible growth filled him with genuine satisfaction.

“If only the teacher could see this scene… how wonderful it would be.”

The man rubbed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and sighing softly: “Mingfuluo has grown, as you hoped, into a scholar who can stand on her own.”

At this, his tone turned… somewhat complex for reasons unclear.

“As you… wished.” Hendrik murmured softly.

Knock, knock, knock—

The sound of knocking interrupted Hendrik’s thoughts.

He gathered himself and responded: “Come in.”

The petite female scholar pushed open the door, as always getting straight to the point: “I need some books on biological alchemy, Hendrik.”

“…Biological alchemy?” Hendrik was taken aback.

“What do you need those for? You’ve never ventured into that field, Mingfuluo.”

“I have… an idea.”

Mingfuluo was unusually vague: “It’s just in the initial stages, and I need some references.”

Though it seemed odd, Hendrik didn’t think much of it, assuming it was likely related to that Nidhogg. He had contributed some effort when creating that “alchemical swarm.”

“Are you thinking of approaching Nidhogg’s creation through biological alchemy, trying a different path?”

The man said with interest: “I hadn’t considered that, but… hmm, it’s a good idea! We could capture a large number of insect-like magical beasts for modification. In terms of cost and difficulty, it might be much lower than direct creation.”

Mingfuluo didn’t deny it, only saying: “I don’t have much experience in this area, so I need your suggestions on reference materials, Hendrik.”

“Hm… you can start with Lorennet’s Flesh Transmutation, then move to Kailin’s Theory of Magical Beast Domination. If you can handle those, then tackle Mr. Flamel’s Life, Matter, Ether: Triple Deconstruction. If you can master that one, you’ll have something substantial to show in biological alchemy.”

With a wave of Hendrik’s hand, five thick books appeared on the table: “*Triple Deconstruction* is divided into three parts, containing not only biological alchemy knowledge but also highly profound alchemical insights… Mr. Flamel only published sixty-six copies of this series, treated as one set, making only twenty-two sets total. Getting this… cost quite a bit of effort.”

Flamel Hydra’s works were considered priceless treasures in the alchemical world.

This god of alchemy was not stingy with sharing his knowledge, having created both arcane codices that even fifth-tier transcendents might struggle to comprehend and the most foundational alchemy textbooks, likely to be regarded as the perfect introductory guides for centuries or millennia to come.

But occasionally, he indulged in a peculiar sense of mischief—for instance, deliberately releasing only a limited number of books, taking amusement in watching the usually lofty powerhouses scramble desperately for them.

Mingfuluo understood the value of these books but showed no reactionsubscriber:reaction, only nodding slightly: “I understand.”

Normally, Mingfuluo would have left without another word after saying this, but this time, after a brief silence, she suddenly asked:

“How is… Babel Tower doind now?”

Hendrik clearly hadn’t expected this question, his face showing clear surprise, but it quickly turned to satisfaction.

“It’s doing well, Mingfuluo, better than ever.”

“…Is it?”

“Yes, thanks to you, thanks to Sir Anselm, everything is getting better.”

Everything was getting better…

Yet the sword hanging over Mingfuluo’s head never lifted and the nightmares entwining her never faded.

Anselm might still be scheming to fully tame her, for he would never trust her.

Only when reality reached the outcome he planned would he stop.

She still hadn’t uncovered the truth behind Erlin’s death, and after her fallout with Sulun, her only lead had vanished.

Pursuing it further would mean asking Anselm for help, but the cost… she might not be able to afford.

And amidst this, she had to consider how to help Anselm against the Empress.

Guarding against Anselm’s schemes, seeking the truth of her grandfather’s death, and finding a way to assist Anselm in the most impossible task in the world…

These three absurd tasks piled upon her, making Mingfuluo the most burdened person in a Babel Tower that no longer needed to bear such pressures.

But she showed no emotion, only nodding slightly: “Good. I’ll be going, Hendrik.”

Taking the five precious books, she left Hendrik’s office for her alchemical workshop.

Babel Tower no longer needed her attention—ironic, considering an academic organization with multiple fifth-tier transcendents needed a mere third-tier like her to save it.

…Or rather, without Anselm’s repeated behind-the-scenes orchestrations, allowing Mingfuluo to step up at critical moments, Babel Tower would have long collapsed.

Now, Mingfuluo could focus on her own matters: Anselm’s covert schemes, her grandfather’s death, and how to help Anselm.

These three could proceed simultaneously under her plan.

Anselm doesn’t trust me now… no, he’ll likely never trust me, unless his plan succeeds and if it does, it means I’ll… lose my resolute pursuit of that future.

So, she had to maintain, as much as possible, a cooperative—no, a subordinate—relationship.

Even if it meant being mocked, humiliated, or toyed with by Anselm, as long as this fragile balance could be maintained, it was enough.

While thinking, Mingfuluo entered the books’ contents into the Data System.

To minimize the cost of seeking her grandfather’s truth from Anselm, she had to stay vigilant, as he would surely see it as part of his plan and seize the opportunity.

Sulun’s information seemed useless but revealed a key detail—time was likely running out.

The culprit was in the Imperial Capital, but they could leave at any moment. Losing this lead meant waiting an unknown time for another, so Mingfuluo had to act quickly.

Finally… Most importantly, if she could help Anselm eliminate that threat, everything could ease, even reconcile.

…Could it?

Mingfuluo asked herself heavily—could she and Anselm truly reconcile?

What if, as Anselm said, even if the threat were removed, he wouldn’t help her, or if helping him conflicted with her ideals?

Miss Doll refused to dwell further.

Now wasn’t the time for wavering.

Having resolved to help Anselm, she would press on, no matter the path ahead.

Entering the workshop, the first two books were already entered into the Data System.

Mingfuluo prepared to input Flamel’s three books, but the moment she began, her body froze.

“What… is this?”

The lenses flashed with chaotic symbols—the Data System wasn’t recording the book’s knowledge but a jumble of nonsense.

Mingfuluo pondered, flipping open one of the three books, writing its contents on paper, only for her hand to scribble uncontrollably—yet she felt no sense of being “out of control,” fully believing she intended to write this.

“…This is the power of a divine being.”

Mingfuluo murmured, her expression complex: “No method can separate his knowledge from its designated medium.”

Even the novel Data System couldn’t escape this influence, a power so terrifyingly absurd, etched into the world’s foundation, it defied description.

“Even this power can’t solve Anselm’s problem.”

She muttered, placing the three thick books on the table.

This reality seemed to echo Anselm’s question to her:

[What qualifications do you have?]

Mingfuluo Zege, what qualifications do you have to arrogantly believe you can help Anselm?

Qualifications…

I truly have none, neither in ability nor in my relationship with Anselm.

Yet, Mingfuluo picked up the heavy book, opened the first page, and began without hesitation.

But that has nothing to do with whether I do it.

Recalling Anselm’s feelings for Hitana, the unnoticed sacrifices woven into them and Elnilisa’s sorrowful expression and words, Mingfuluo knew she had to act.

If she was the cause of Anselm becoming this way… then correcting that mistake was only natural.

“Was Anselm… telling me about the power of the Flame-Feasting Royalty?”

Mingfuluo murmured to herself: “The fire of all origins, capable of deconstructing and consuming everything as nourishment. How do you fight such a power?”

“If the Flame-Feasting fire can burn everything, then no element or method matters. The approach is meaningless, so…”

As she spoke to herself, a chill surged from her spine to the back of her head.

She spun around to find a black-shadowed specter… appearing out of nowhere in her workshop!

“You—”

“Mingfuluo Zege.”

The black specter’s tone was cold, almost toneless, like a shoddy alchemical puppet, yet its eerie form and sudden appearance behind her stopped Mingfuluo’s heart for a moment.

“By order of Her Highness the Grand Princess, I am here to convey her invitation.”

“The Grand Princess… Her Highness?”

Calming herself, Mingfuluo steadied her emotions: “Her Highness… wants me?”

“A mere invitation for a transaction. Her Highness is very interested in your Data System.”

The black specter said emotionlessly: “Out of basic respect for Sir Anselm, Her Highness is willing to make a deal. Hand over the entire Data System completely, and she will provide the truth behind Erlin’s death.”

“!”

Her barely stabilized emotions spiraled out of control again, and Mingfuluo’s voice rose instinctively: “What did you say!”

“The truth of Erlin’s death, in its entirety, every detail you need—Her Highness can tell you.”

The specter maintained its lifeless tone: “The condition is to surrender the Data System, from its foundational construction to its entirety, to Her Highness.”

An opportunity… unlike Sulun’s, a direct chance to uncover the truth.

And on the surface, it didn’t require an unbearable cost.

Compared to the life-risking madness of working with Sulun, this was almost too perfect, far better than seeking Anselm’s help.

The chance to resolve her most burning desire was within reach.

And this clearly wasn’t part of Anselm’s plan—his conflict with Ivora was too stark.

Given the Grand Princess’s nature, she would never aid Anselm.

If this was part of Anselm’s scheme… exposing the Data System to draw Ivora’s attention?

Unlikely.

The variables were too many; Anselm wouldn’t make such an unpredictable plan.

So this wasn’t a trap—it was a genuine opportunity.

The truth—

Mingfuluo’s body trembled slightly.

Fifteen years… her entire life, aside from chasing that illusory future, had been about seeking the truth of the past.

Her most revered grandfather, who aimed to change the stagnant Empire and push it toward a grander future, had his head severed, his heart torn out, dying before her eyes.

In the most tragic, mocking manner, as if ridiculing his overambition, he died in front of Mingfuluo.

From that moment, hatred and fear became her driving force, her inescapable nightmare.

Now, the chance to end that nightmare was right before her. All she had to do was hand over the Data System, just this one thing, and…

And…

The surging emotions in Mingfuluo’s heart suddenly went cold.

Hand over… the Data System.

Like before… with firearms?

Hand over something that wasn’t truly hers?

The firearms, the Data System—they were all her creations.

But she knew better than anyone: without Anselm, she could never have produced the new weapons that caught Ivora’s eye, nor the Data System that brought her countless conveniences, elevated Babel Tower to new heights, and drew even Ivora’s attention.

“Haven’t you decided yet?” The specter’s voice grew colder.

“Don’t waste Her Highness’s grace.”

“…I…”

The petite, doll-like woman lowered her head, her voice slightly hoarse:

“The core of the Data System… I can’t use it for a trade.”

“It… belongs to Anselm.”

In Mingfuluo’s mind, she saw the spark in Anselm’s eyes when he spoke of it.

[A network that could connect the entire Empire, allowing countless people to transcend limitations and break through the iron walls of knowledge.]

Back then, Anselm had described that fantastical vision with such fervent joy.

So, even when exposing the Data System, Mingfuluo tried to hide its greater potential, its revolutionary future that could surpass anyone’s imagination.

No, she couldn’t…

This wasn’t like firearms, not a tool of violence for Babel Tower’s survival.

Even if its true purpose couldn’t be discerned by someone like the Grand Princess, its entirety couldn’t be traded.

When the Essence Grand Duke made a similar demand, Mingfuluo had thought the trade wasn’t equal, but now… she had a new perspective—

This… was something that carried Anselm’s ideals.

The terrifying coercion, the isolated predicament, the habitual sacrifices… All of these made it impossible for Mingfuluo to make that choice, the choice that, from her standpoint, would have been only natural.

Because she couldn’t accept that something once radiant with Anselm’s brilliance would be used by her as a bargaining chip for something that benefited only herself.

She absolutely wouldn’t allow herself… to commit such a shameful, despicable defilement!

“May Her Highness forgive me.”

Mingfuluo Zege stared at the black specter, her voice soft yet resolute:

“I… refuse this transaction.”

Even if, in Anselm’s eyes, she was an unforgivable, despicable failure, a betrayer…

Mingfuluo Zege, you too have things you must uphold.