Chapter 362: Barbecue
Sigurd had one of the best nights of sleep he'd had in ages.
Both he and Sin Mal were the type to sleep quietly, without tossing or turning. So when he woke the next morning, he found the small girl curled up peacefully at his side. Her soft lavender hair spread across the gray sheets, wrapping around her petite, delicate frame like a silken cocoon.
Her tiny pink hands were loosely clenched, and from her snow-white nose and rosy lips came the slow, even rhythm of her breathing.
Then, perhaps stirred by Sigurd's movement, her eyelids fluttered, and moments later, a pair of sleepy eyes blinked open.
"Mm… Sigurd…"
Without thinking, Sin Mal hugged his waist and rubbed her head against him, smiling sweetly in her half-awake daze.
For a second, Sigurd felt something in his chest tighten—a strange, gentle ache. He reached out to stroke her hair, the corner of his mouth softening into a faint smile.
He didn't need sleep anymore, not really. But to have such a long, peaceful rest—and to wake up to Sin Mal clinging to him like this—made him feel unexpectedly at ease.
...
Meanwhile, on the other side of the dorms, Wendy woke up in a far less blissful state.
She jolted up from a nightmare, her face pale with exhaustion—and for good reason.
Kiana was wrapped around her like an octopus, arms and legs entangled everywhere. Most notably, both hands were locked tightly around Wendy's neck, as if she were wrestling a Honkai beast in her dreams.
"..."
Wendy stared blankly at the ceiling, too tired to even feel anger, and weakly patted the pair of hands choking her. It did absolutely nothing. If not for her Herrscher body being as durable as it was, she suspected she might have been strangled to death in her sleep.
After a long and painful struggle, she finally managed to pry Kiana's "sleeper chokehold" off her neck. She sat up, rubbing the sore muscles along her throat, and let out a long, helpless sigh.
"Haah… thank goodness it's Sigurd sharing a bed with her and not anyone else. Even a Herrscher would drop dead from this kind of nightly assault."
Still massaging her neck, Wendy muttered sleepily to herself.
That legendary Kaslana strength was no joke—Kiana was living proof of it. From how it felt, Wendy was convinced no one short of Sigurd himself could survive such a brutal sleep habit unscathed.
Then the realization hit her—and she grimaced. Wait, am I seriously feeling relieved that Kiana's with Sigurd? What kind of twisted logic is that?
Schluuurp!
A wet sound broke her thoughts.
"Hmm? Morning already?"
The white-haired girl in question, completely oblivious to her own crimes, stirred awake, drooling slightly as she blinked around with a lazy, confused expression.
...
We'll skip the details of everyone's morning routines, but breakfast that day was noticeably livelier than last night's dinner.
After all, the reunion dinner had been something intimate—just for Sigurd and the girls who had grown up beside him. Others hadn't joined in.
But breakfast? Breakfast was a different story.
Breakfast, unlike last night's reunion dinner, was open to everyone.
That meant all the guests who hadn't joined before could finally take their seats—such as a certain "Kaslana ancestor" who looked suspiciously like Sigurd, another ancient fossil of a man with perpetually squinted eyes, and an immortal lady whose every gesture somehow radiated "married woman" energy.
And then there was—
"Ahahaha! Behold, the true Chi You! The perfect Fu Hua! The complete me—ow!"
"Complete your head, you little brat! Look at this notebook full of your nonsense—this is how you act when you're outside? Do you have any idea Sigurd's going to be an emperor soon!? What if he remembers this later and makes life miserable for Mount Taixuan!? What then, huh!?"
"Little Xuan, wait, let me explain! Ahh—don't hit, don't hit! I was wrong, okay? Old Timer! Old Timer, help me!!"
The spacious living room was filled with chaos as the tiny Book of Fuxi chased a panicked Senti around, brandishing a sword nearly twice her own size. Sparks—literal and metaphorical—flew in every direction.
Normally, Senti, as the Herrscher of Sentience inhabiting Fu Hua's flawless body, wouldn't be afraid of mere physical attacks. Unfortunately for her, Book of Fuxi had chosen to bring Xuanyuan Sword into this fight. With Ji Xuanyuan's spirit obediently aiding from within the blade, and Senti too guilty to fight back, every strike landed painfully and with perfect precision.
After several laps around the room, the mischievous Herrscher finally tripped—courtesy of Rozaliya, who stuck out a leg at just the right moment.
"Rozaliya! You dare betray me!?"
"Shh shh shh~~"
"Whistling won't save you! This grudge shall be avenged—ow ow ow! Little Xuan, not the head! Not the head!"
Senti crouched down, hugging her head defensively, while an irate Book of Fuxi floated above her, swinging the massive Xuanyuan Sword with a surprising amount of force for her tiny body.
Bonk!
"'Twisting all phenomena,' was it?"
Bonk!
"Being cheeky, huh?"
Bonk!
"Flirting with Sigurd again, were you?"
Bonk bonk bonk!
Kiana walked into the living room to the rhythmic clang of head-meets-sword.
"Morning… ha~"
Shoulders slumped, she trudged forward with heavy steps, yawning wide enough to make her eyes water.
Neither the sight of Book of Fuxi disciplining Senti, nor the Vodka Twins gleefully watching the show, nor the serene image of the elders sipping tea in a sunbeam—none of it could rouse her from her groggy haze.
Eventually, she reached the sofa where Sigurd was sitting. Seeing that both sides were already occupied—Bronya on one side, Sin Mal on the other—she didn't bother searching for a seat.
Instead, she went behind him, opened her arms, and let herself fall forward, draping her whole weight against his back. Her head came to rest softly on his shoulder.
"Morning, Sig…"
Her voice was languid and muffled, and she tilted her head just enough to bump her forehead gently against his.
Sigurd glanced at her sideways but said nothing. One hand held Jizo Mitama, the other the Herrscher of Corruption's core, carefully aligning the two.
"What are you doing, Sig?"
He didn't answer—but Sin Mal did. She turned her head, puffed her cheeks, and shot Kiana a sharp glare.
"Shh! Don't talk, you stupid tuna! Sigurd's doing something important!"
"Oh… okay…"
Kiana mumbled weakly, too sleepy to even argue.
Meanwhile, Sigurd's eyes glowed faintly violet—the mark of the Key of Sanction opening a higher-dimensional sight. Slowly, steadily, he brought the gemstone and the blade closer together.
As the two objects drew closer, a fluffy pink creature suddenly leapt out from the black blade's surface, raising its chubby little hands to block the approaching Herrscher Core.
"What do you think you're doing, you jerk!?"
"Out of the way."
Sigurd's tone was icy, his expression colder still as he looked down at the tiny, pink-haired, multi-tailed creature squirming in his grip.
Higokumaru glared up at him, her fox ears and tails trembling. She pushed the gem away a little, then suddenly jumped up and bit one of Sigurd's fingers.
"Gawu gawu gawu—!"
"I don't understand your nonsense. Are you trying to get yourself smacked?"
Sigurd frowned. His eyes, filled with a sort of calm, terrifying amusement, focused on the miniature fox girl dangling from his hand.
At that moment, Yae Sakura's figure materialized beside them, a resigned smile on her lips.
"Higokumaru says that's her home, and she's asking you not to harm it… So, Mister Sigurd, may I ask what exactly you're trying to do? If it's possible, please don't hurt her."
Yae Sakura had long accepted her own fate—even if she never met Kallen again, she could face that. But Higokumaru was different. She wanted to protect the little one who called her "big sister," no matter what.
Sigurd turned to her. The violet light in his eyes gradually faded.
"The Information-Origin Theory gives a better explanation of the world's true nature," he murmured, "but manipulating data and manipulating physical matter are two very different things. The Herrscher of Corruption's power interacts directly with the information layer itself—something extremely significant to me. Still… another method could work. After all, you two make quite the capable pair. And besides, Otto wants you alive."
Golden threads appeared around the gem, weaving themselves into a delicate sphere. The glowing orb floated down to Sigurd's waist and hung there, shimmering faintly.
Then, without warning, Sigurd grabbed Higokumaru—still clinging to his finger—in one hand.
"Wah! Let me go! What are you trying to do now!?"
"Mei and Seele are frying dough sticks in the kitchen," he said flatly. "The oil's nice and hot—animal fat, rich aroma."
"!?"
"If I coat you in flour… I bet you'd fry up nice and crispy."
He held her up to eye level, rubbing his chin as if evaluating a cooking ingredient. His voice was calm—too calm.
Higokumaru froze in his grasp, her little body going stiff as her pupils trembled. The sinister smile curving Sigurd's lips deepened, and for a brief moment, the shadow behind him seemed to twist into some indescribable, eldritch shape.
"Uuuh—!"
A moment later, the little fox girl went limp, fainting dead away.
Sigurd rubbed his thumb against her round cheek to confirm she was really unconscious, then let out a soft exhale. The eerie smile faded from his face.
When he looked up again, he noticed that Kiana, Bronya, and Sin Mal were all huddled together at a safe distance. Even the Vodka sisters had clung to each other, trembling.
"…It's not like I was talking about you," he said expressionlessly.
Still, he waved his hand, conjuring a grill on the table. A flame flickered beneath it—perfectly realistic, yet giving off no heat. He placed the unconscious Higokumaru on the grill, sprinkled some barbecue seasoning over her, and waited.
Then, narrowing his eyes, he looked… pleased.
In that moment, everyone could feel it—Sigurd's strange, dark sense of humor, as terrifying as it was unholy.
<+>
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