Chapter 310: Good Cop, Bad Cop
In ancient legends, immortals rode the wind and soared through the skies. Sword immortals were said to fly on their blades, traversing thirty thousand miles a day, slicing through clouds, their sound cracking like thunder as they chased stars and raced the moon.
BOOM!!
"C-Could you slow down a bit?!"
"Hmm? What did you say? Too slow? Got it, speeding up!"
Senti cupped her ear in mock confusion, then turned her head to flash a radiant, innocent smile at the terrified white-haired girl suspended in midair by chains.
BOOOOM!!!
"AAAHHH!!!"
An immortal riding a flying sword, dragging a prisoner behind her by chain, tore through the clouds, generating sonic booms that rocked the heavens.
At this point, Zhuge Kongming no longer cared about whether this was "sword immortal" behavior or not—she just wanted to be on the ground. Alive.
Good grief, she thought. I'm only twelve! I haven't even started enjoying the sweetness of youth yet! I absolutely refuse to die in such a meaningless way!
Senti cackled joyously as she dragged Kongming through wild aerial stunts—looping, diving, spinning with reckless abandon.
To Kongming, the ordeal felt like a century. To Senti, it was barely a warm-up. After spanning half the length of Huangguo, the flying sword finally approached the capital—the Imperial City.
BAM!!!
Senti, of course, was not one to bother with things like deceleration.
The sword smashed clean through the palace roof, then punched through the floor, sending shockwaves through the entire structure and destroying countless precious objects and support columns.
RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE—!
As the building began to collapse around them, an enthusiastic voice rang out from the chaos:
"Hahaha! I'm back, Sigurd!"
Thunk!
"Oww!"
A chunk of roof debris fell straight onto Senti's head, flattening her into the wreckage like a cartoon character.
Minutes passed. When the dust finally settled, the entire palace hall had turned to rubble—except for the royal throne and the three seats reserved for the highest ministers below it. That space remained untouched, not even the swirling dust dared enter its airspace.
Pop!
A tiny fist punched through the debris, followed by a soot-covered girl with a dazzling smile.
She skipped forward with lively, bouncy steps, climbed the steps to the throne, and proudly held out the end of the chain.
"Mission complete, Sigurd!"
"Well done…"
Sigurd glanced around at the ruins and then… smiled.
It was a gentle smile—like a warm spring breeze.
He rose from the throne. With a height a full head taller than Senti, he looked down on her from above like a judge preparing a verdict.
"Huh?"
Senti tilted her head, blinking with an innocent look.
CRACK! SMACK! BAM! POP!
Before she could register what happened, Senti found herself lying face-down in the rubble, her nose bruised, eyes swollen, and chest screaming in pain.
Yup. Her ribs—definitely three of them—were broken.
"AAAHHH!!!"
Like a shrimp tossed onto dry land, Senti thrashed wildly on the floor, desperately trying to alleviate the pain.
[Sigh—]
Inside the mindscape, Fu Hua sighed and rubbed her forehead in resignation.
She knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. Sure, she had managed to guide Senti through the first two weeks without incident, but she couldn't keep holding her back forever.
Sigurd shook off his hand and picked up the chain Senti had brought. With a gentle tug—
CRASH!
Another filthy little girl was yanked out from the debris, her hair a complete mess like a bird's nest. Her clothes were torn and wrinkled beyond recognition, and her eyes remained tightly shut, brow furrowed as if still locked in the middle of a nightmare.
"Sigh—"
Sigurd mirrored Fu Hua's signature move—pressing his hand against his forehead with a sigh. Then, he tossed the unconscious girl toward Rita, who stood behind him with a face full of anxiety and urgency.
"She's fine, just needs some cleaning up. You all can go."
Waving casually to the three high ministers who had been in the middle of a discussion, Sigurd dismissed them without much concern.
The three bowed respectfully and took their leave.
Then, Sigurd walked over to the girl still thrashing and wailing on the ground. He crouched down in front of her expressionlessly.
"Not bad. Welcome back."
"That's your idea of a welcome!? Are you trying to die?!"
A fist, fast enough to break the sound barrier, shot toward Sigurd—only for him to casually grab her wrist mid-swing.
"Owowow!! It's broken! It's broken! My arm's gonna snap!!"
Senti collapsed flat on the ground, slapping the floor wildly with her free hand, tears streaming down her face as she shrieked in pain.
A few moments later, Sigurd released her wrist.
"Do you understand what you did wrong?"
"Hah!? You bastard, you—mmfgh!"
Sigurd pinched her swollen cheeks with one hand, squinting his eyes as he calmly asked again:
"Do you understand your mistake?"
"Mmmffphh… gurgle gurgle… blrgh blrgh…"
Unlike the familiar 'paramecium babble,' this twisted speech was something Sigurd couldn't even begin to decipher. Still, he had a pretty good guess it wasn't anything polite. So, he asked someone who could understand.
Sigurd: Fu Hua, translation?
Fu Hua: Something like: "You're so dead."
Senti: You traitorous fossil! You sold me out!?
Sigurd paused for a second. Then, while still gripping her face, he smiled gently once more.
"Do you know why Kiana starts sweating the moment I squint like this?"
His eyes narrowed.
And Senti felt it.
The killing intent.
This wasn't a joke. It was a genuinely terrifying, soul-piercing intent to kill.
[Wait wait! I surrender! Little Xuan told me we're not allowed to fight each other!]
"That warning was only for you, not me."
Sigurd's tone grew colder.
"I heard there's a mass grave in the mountains north of the city, where they used to bury executed criminals. I'm very curious about what kind of spiritual anomalies lie beneath land soaked with the dead. How about you help me test it?"
[You think I'm scared of—WAIT! I WAS WRONG! I SURRENDER! I REALLY SURRENDER!!]
The moment Sigurd made a move as if to drag her by the face toward that ominous graveyard, Senti immediately caved.
Their eyes locked: Sigurd's cold, piercing stare versus Senti's tearful, swollen, panicked gaze.
"Go get cleaned up. Then come back."
With a gruff, growling tone, Sigurd finally released her cheeks.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Imperial Bathhouse – Reserved for the Royal Family
Kiana lounged with complete abandon against the bath's edge. A wine jug and a plate of pastries sat nearby. She was thoroughly enjoying her soak in the hot water—though the... impressive assets floating on the surface were difficult to ignore.
Durandal sat beside Kiana. Even while bathing, her posture remained perfectly straight, exuding the composed aura of a seasoned warrior. She was wrapped in a thin bath towel that barely concealed her stunning figure, leaving plenty to the imagination.
Rita and Kongming sat together in the water, one in front of the other. Rita gently washed and massaged the younger girl's body while patiently explaining the recent power shifts within the Empire. She also gave detailed advice on how to survive in the current political climate. Kongming clenched her fists tightly, her expression shifting rapidly. In the end, an overwhelming sense of absurdity—like the sky had collapsed—filled her heart.
"Hssss... hisss... hisss!!!"
The one repeatedly crying out in pain, naturally, was Senti not far away.
Behind her, the white-robed phantom of Fu Hua floated serenely, sleeves fluttering like clouds as she used combs, towels, and other tools to wash Senti's body and hair.
Senti sat in the water like a sulking child, reaching up to gently touch her swollen cheek.
"Old Timer, my broken bones have already healed themselves. Why is my face still swollen!?"
"Sigurd left a trace of his unique true qi on your cheek. It's preventing your body's automatic regeneration. Consider it a lesson. Endure it—and more importantly, reflect on your actions."
"The hell!? Old Timer, I haven't even settled the score with you yet! You actually sold me out just now? And when he was bullying me so bad, why didn't you step in!? Why just stand there and watch!?"
"...To be honest, you really did deserve a good beating. I didn't have the heart to do it myself... so I let Sigurd handle it."
Fu Hua sighed, shaking her head in both amusement and resignation.
This child was not only reckless but completely unable to understand the line between playful mischief and outright suicidal behavior. Especially with Little Xuan away, Fu Hua's guidance had limited effect. Sooner or later, without a proper beating, the girl wouldn't learn restraint.
Senti pouted and muttered under her breath:
"Geez! First you say you can't bear to hurt me, then you hand me over to Sigurd... Now I don't even know whether to be angry or happy! Your brain's all weird, Old Timer! Totally weird!"
"Alright, alright, I'm weird—happy now? But seriously, you really need to learn how to behave around others. You have a good heart, Senti, but you're far too wild. That carefree attitude can be exhausting for those around you."
"What's wrong with being free?"
"Freedom is good—but it needs boundaries. Senti, you have to learn how to get along with others. If you keep being this reckless, people will start to dislike you."
"Hmph! Like I care! I don't need people to like me! That's a weakling's problem!"
"Strength isn't just about power. It's about wisdom and character, too. I want you to grow into someone everyone cherishes. Promise me—you'll be more composed in the future, okay?"
Fu Hua's tone was warm, patient, and full of care.
Under her gentle, affectionate gaze, Senti stubbornly stayed silent. She didn't want to be lectured like a child, but in the end... she couldn't bring herself to talk back, either.
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[3] https://www.patreon.com/posts/140631608
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