Chapter 66 : Helen Faust, Part Two

The soil enhancement potion—a seemingly unremarkable item, yet its effects were so potent that Hendrik didn’t dare bring it to the forefront.

This world was warped, dominated by divine species and with transcendents ruling over mortals.

Even so, in the human-ruled territories, the distorted values of transcendents were still influenced by the rules born from the long evolution of human society.

To put it simply, Mingfuluo could sustain herself with nutrient potions, eliminating the need to eat, even customizing flavors to her liking.

Higher-tier transcendents had even less need for food.

Yet, in reality, few transcendents completely abandoned eating.

The Empress’s absolute rule ensured that no wars could erupt on the continent east of the Tianlu Mountain Range.

Transcendents had only two outlets for their power: challenging other transcendents or the magical beasts roaming the continent, or venturing into the Zero Point Labyrinth, with its over ninety-five percent disappearance rate and unknown horrors.

Thus, most transcendents channeled their unvented violence into other desires: domination, indulgence, or the pursuit of higher transcendence.

Their elevated existence didn’t detach them from human society.

The suppression by divine species forced them to seek fulfillment downward, among mortals, for things that could satisfy their inner cravings, making it impossible to leave society behind.

The benevolent saved others to fulfill themselves; the malevolent unleashed their brutality to revel in primal sin.

It was hard to imagine what terrifying storms these emotional, extreme transcendents would unleash on the continent if the divine species’ restraints were ever lifted.

To return to the point, because transcendents had such high demands for worldly things, food, as the cornerstone of civilian life, held extraordinary influence.

Even someone as politically insensitive as Hendrik knew the upheaval this potion could cause if revealed publicly.

With this, transcendents could enslave civilians even more deeply, dominating them at will.

The thought alone made Hendrik shudder.

But now, none of that was an issue. With Anselm’s help… everything could be resolved!

"This contains the final product."

Hendrik carefully handed a pendant to Mingfuluo.

"Its efficacy and stability have been repeatedly tested—no issues. I’ve also included detailed instructions, simple enough for even minimally educated civilians to understand."

"…Mingfuluo."

He exhaled softly, his expression gravely serious.

"Babel Tower, and the future Teacher envisioned, are now in your hands."

Mingfuluo didn’t respond, only tightly gripping the pendant and giving a slight nod.

She turned and left Hendrik’s office.

At the door, a girl in a black gown, poised and serene, smiled at her.

"Are we ready to go, Miss Mingfuluo?" Marina asked gently.

"Let’s go."

Mingfuluo hung the pendant around her neck, her expression calm.

"Is Anselm already at the destination?"

"Yes, Mr. Anselm is in Little Pelican City."

Though elegantly dressed, with graceful bearing and a beauty that had matured impeccably, Marina stood respectfully behind Mingfuluo, answering like a servant.

"Regarding the use of the soil enhancement potion, it’s a complex matter. According to Mr. Anselm… the farming skills and enthusiasm of the civilians in Breeze City, within Mirror Lake Territory, are somewhat higher than in Little Pelican City. To ensure fairness in this game, he’s making some adjustments."

Mingfuluo didn’t address this, instead asking after a brief silence, "Did Anselm tell you the specific steps and procedures?"

"Yes." The girl smiled.

"I’m responsible for overseeing and supervising this game on Mr. Anselm’s behalf."

"…Can you share them with me?"

"You’ll see Mr. Anselm soon," Marina said evenly.

"Wouldn’t it be better to ask him directly?"

Her soothing tone and pleasant voice made Mingfuluo pause mid-step.

She turned to look at Marina.

"You seem… to be implying something."

Marina only smiled.

"You’re overthinking it."

This girl, who once confided in Mingfuluo about the immense pressure Anselm faced, now remained silent, no longer sharing personal details about him.

It was as if she was disappointed—and had given up.

An unbidden thought crossed Mingfuluo’s mind:

How many times has she wondered if, by taking my place, she could save Anselm?

This led to another thought—

If I were as pure as her, many things wouldn’t have happened.

Make no mistake—by “pure,” Mingfuluo didn’t mean purely siding with Anselm, but… purely adhering to her ideals.

If she were truly pure, she wouldn’t be so swayed, toyed with, and dominated by Anselm.

It was precisely because she couldn’t erase the shadow Anselm left in that glorious vision that she was now mired so deeply.

But this thought was fleeting for Mingfuluo.

Hypotheticals were meaningless; the reality was… she couldn’t clear Anselm’s influence from her mind.

Not only could she not, but she was sinking deeper.

The lost memories and truths…

Whenever fragmented words and images flashed through her mind, when she came to her senses… she always felt an indescribable, inexpressible… sense of unreality.

It wasn’t that the memories were fabricated, but… a kind of unnatural misalignment she couldn’t articulate.

As those vague fragments surfaced, she grew increasingly reluctant to let soul-specialized alchemists repair her soul, unwilling to let anyone see that past.

All she could do was wait.

"…!"

Marina stopped as Mingfuluo suddenly halted, looking at her with concern.

"Miss Mingfuluo, what’s wrong?"

"…Nothing." Mingfuluo steadied her slightly trembling body.

"Let’s head to the teleportation array. Don’t keep Anselm waiting."

Beyond the recurring memory flashes, there was… an intermittent rejection between her soul and body.

Lady Myron had been right.

Thankfully, she’d had her help.

Though Mingfuluo hadn’t managed the crucial rest Myron prescribed—likely the source of her soul and body’s recent anomalies—it wasn’t a major issue.

It was time to take the first step to change the world.

Though it was just two small territories, with only one item to aid them.

But with this beginning, that grand vision would no longer be an illusion—it would stand on solid ground.

You must succeed, Mingfuluo.

You will succeed.

***

In the city lord’s office of Little Pelican City, Count Watson stood behind Anselm, bowing humbly.

"Lord Anselm, all your arrangements have been handled. I’ve selected the best farmers across Watson Territory, and everything else is prepared."

His voice trembled with excitement, as if he wished he could oust the city lord and take the role himself.

The chance to gain Anselm’s favor was rare.

Last time, he’d risen to prominence, eliminating threats in his territory and seizing spoils from Mirror Lake Territory, becoming its absolute ruler.

Now Anselm was here again, and Count Watson couldn’t imagine how much he’d gain by meticulously following every instruction!

This thought sparked a trace of envy toward Count Mirror Lake.

That defeated man, instead of being punished by the Empress, had been absorbed into Hydra’s domain by sheer luck. Could there be anything better?

What?

Losing noble dignity, ancestral lands, and glory?

Talking about dignity before Hydra—whose brain was broken, yours or mine?

Fate was unpredictable, but despite his envy, Count Watson focused on doing his job well.

Knock, knock, knock—

A knock came at the door. Before Count Watson could speak, Anselm said, "Come in."

The wooden door opened, and the petite female scholar stepped in, stopping at a distance from Anselm. "Lord Anselm, Miss Lans has taken half the potions to Breeze City. The other half is with me."

"When do we start…"

"Why are you standing so far away?" Anselm, his figure obscured by the wide chair back, chuckled.

"Am I that scary, Helen?"

"…"

Mingfuluo’s body trembled slightly.

She took a deep breath, steadying her voice as she approached.

"Of course not, Fa… ther."

Count Watson was stunned.

He glanced at Anselm’s back, then at the delicate girl (?), a chill rising in his heart.

I won’t die mysteriously for knowing something I shouldn’t, will I?

Hearing her footsteps draw closer, Anselm’s face broke into a smile.

The young Hydra gazed out at the territory’s view from the balcony, patting his thigh without a word.

"…"

Mingfuluo silently walked over, smoothed her skirt and sat on Anselm’s lap with her legs pressed together.

Wrapping one arm around Miss Doll’s waist, Anselm chuckled.

"How’s the preparation?"

"The potion’s efficacy has been tested multiple times with no side effects. It can transform barren land into fertile soil suitable for planting in three days, adaptable to any crop, ensuring survival. Beyond regular watering, no fertilizers are needed. Crops that mature once a season can now mature weekly, with yield and quality increased three to five times."

Anselm raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Count Watson, as a lord, was floored by the description, his mind blanking.

Crops maturing weekly instead of seasonally, with boosted yield and quality, suitable for all crops, with no side effects?

What in the world was this thing?

Without exaggeration, if this could be rolled out across the Empire, hunger could theoretically be eradicated in a month.

And this was to be used in his territory?

Count Watson’s blood rushed to his head, nearly fainting from excitement.

"Sounds like decent results."

Anselm patted Mingfuluo’s head.

"Saves a lot of waiting time. Well done, Helen."

"…It’s my duty, Father."

Mingfuluo resisted the title, yet it wasn’t as repugnant as she’d expected.

The word “Father,” when not spoken in jest or mockery, carried immense weight.

But sadly, Mingfuluo had never felt that weight in her life.

So, when saying those words, she didn’t resist as much as she thought she would.

"Good. Hand the potion to Count Watson."

Anselm lightly patted her shoulder, signaling she could get up.

But before leaving his embrace, Mingfuluo cautiously asked the question she’d repeated countless times.

"I won’t interfere, neither will you, and no transcendents will. This territory will operate as usual, correct?"

"Of course," Anselm said with a pure smile. "That’s exactly what I want to see."

"…Good."

Mingfuluo took a deep breath, removed the pendant from her neck, stepped away from Anselm, and approached Count Watson.

"Here are all the potions and usage instructions. There won’t be refills, so distribute them as planned."

"I… I understand, Miss Helen."

Count Watson knelt decisively, taking the pendant with both hands, his trembling fingers betraying his racing heart.

"I’ll follow Lord Anselm’s orders to the letter, absolutely meticulously. Please rest assured."

"Lord Anselm," he then asked, voice trembling, "may I…?"

"Go. Don’t mess it up, Count."

Anselm, who hadn’t glanced at him once, waved dismissively.

"Yes, yes! I won’t let you down! Absolutely!"

Once Count Watson hurriedly left, Anselm stood from the sofa, stretching.

"Now we wait a week and check the results."

The young Hydra tilted his head slightly, looking at Mingfuluo.

"What do you think the first week will be like for them?"

Mingfuluo pondered for a moment before answering softly, "Ecstasy, happiness, disbelief… something like that."

As she spoke, her expression softened unconsciously.

"When the issue of food is resolved, it’s not just the farmers who find relief. The poor, who were once destitute, can eat not only cheaper but better-quality food. Everyone’s lives will visibly improve."

"As long as they’re no longer starving, as long as they can truly be full, people will be filled with hope for life."

Miss Doll glanced at Anselm, not too far nor too close, lowering her gaze.

"That’s what you taught me, Anselm… sir."

"You don’t always have to remember my words so well, Mingfuluo."

Anselm raised an eyebrow.

"It makes it seem like you’re overly attached to me—or rather, to that Anselm Hydra who will never appear again."

"That’s a bit foolish and repulsive, don’t you think?"

"…Anselm, sir."

Mingfuluo took a step forward, staring into his eyes.

"To you, is this really just a game?"

"You’ve always been able to see most things clearly."

Anselm met her gaze with a candid smile.

"Why not use that wisdom of yours to guess and see this time?"

For over ten seconds, she locked eyes with those sea-blue irises until the icy, pitch-black serpent pupils flashed before her, startling her into averting her gaze, decisively losing the standoff.

"I… give up."

In the end, she only murmured, "Being able to bring change to all this, actively bringing change… Anselm, sir, you’re doing exactly that. I don’t want to, nor am I qualified to, question it."

"As long as it can be achieved—"

"As long as it can fulfill the vision you hope to see."

Anselm’s lips curled upward, as if a snake’s tongue flickered at the corners of his mouth.

"Never changing, never changing… That’s you, Mingfuluo. But… no harm done."

His gaze drifted to the territory beyond the balcony, to the fields beyond the territory.

Seven days from now, that land would be lush, teeming with life.

But… what about the second seven days, the third, the fourth?

In the end, what would remain?

It probably won’t last past the third seven days, so… let’s say the third.

Grow wild, strong, willful, and free, dear crops.

Bring my dear Mingfuluo, dear Miss Helen, the beautiful vision she longs to see.

Bring her your finest blessings.