Madam Herta's gaze lingered for a moment on 'Xing,' whose eyes were dim, before she looked away.
Compared to the static performance of this test subject, she was more concerned with its dynamic capabilities.
She turned toward the system puppet standing by like a shadow.
"System, is there a suitable place to test her combat capabilities?" Black Herta asked, her tone carrying the calmness of a researcher.
Data flowed within the inverted cross-shaped eyes of the system puppet, and it replied in a steady electronic voice: "To answer you, Madam, the most direct and efficient testing ground is the 'Golden Descendants' Challenge Space recorded in the database."
Black Herta nodded understandingly: "We can find... Wait, find who?"
She suddenly reacted, her gaze toward the system filled with the implication of "Are you kidding me?" "Those Golden Descendants, some are shattered, some are mad, some are impaled—can they still be dragged out to be used as punching bags for testing?"
The system puppet explained without changing its expression (it couldn't make any other expression anyway): "Madam, most of the tragic sights you see are the external manifestations of the trauma caused by the power of the 'Iron Tomb' to their core concepts, visualized within the database. They are like programmed BOSSes set with fixed behavioral patterns. When you dispatch a unit into the corresponding Challenge Space, they are not fighting their 'actual bodies' or 'remains,' but confronting these solidified Trauma Projections."
It paused, then continued to elaborate in that chillingly calm tone: "Achieving victory in combat, dismantling or suppressing these Trauma Projections, is itself a powerful act of 'conquest' and 'proof.' This offers an opportunity to shake their core concepts, thereby awakening or changing their current confined state to some extent. This is also one of the viable paths to achieving'submission' or 'deep recognition.'"
Black Herta found it a bit convoluted: "Simplify it. Speak plainly."
The system readily complied: "In short, you can send someone in to fight them. If they win, they might 'wake them up,' or at least make them acknowledge your power. This is also a form of 'conquest.'"
Black Herta suddenly understood, gently tapping her left palm with her right fist: "I see! No wonder it was mentioned before that saving them required'submission' or 'persuasion'... I was wondering how those who were locked up or frozen could be'subdued by fighting.'"
She thought of another question, sounding slightly eager: "Can I enter the arena myself?"
Testing the mettle of these Golden Descendants personally seemed quite interesting.
The system puppet immediately denied it, its tone carrying an undeniable programmed quality: "It is not recommended that you enter the arena personally, Madam. This does not comply with standard procedures. Generally speaking, no game design would allow a player to directly enter a dungeon and engage in physical contest with the BOSS?"
Black Herta choked on the game analogy and rubbed her brow: "...That's true."
She abandoned the idea of entering the arena herself.
"Very well." She cast her gaze back onto Xing, who stood quietly like a doll. "We can use her to test the waters."
She walked up to Xing and said in a declarative tone: "Listen, from now on, your name is Axing." (Terrible at naming)
This Replica needed a clear codename to distinguish it from the original.
"Follow me."
Having said that, she raised her hand to cut open a portal back to the System Space and stepped through first.
Axing followed silently, without hesitation, matching Black Herta's steps almost perfectly.
The system puppet, like a phantom, followed silently at the very end.
Returning to the pure white System Space, Black Herta crossed her arms and began seriously considering the first'Sparring Partner.'
"Who should I choose?"
She muttered to herself, her gaze sweeping over the names and status thumbnails of the Golden Descendants on the virtual panel.
"Phainon... No, no."
She immediately rejected him. "That posture in the Icebound Tomb clearly indicates a massive challenge. Axing alone would likely struggle; we shouldn't let her be destroyed in the first match."
"Mydei... also no."
Looking at the image of the greatsword piercing his spine, Black Herta shook her head. "These are clearly battle-hardened fanatics, specialists in slaughter. It's better to play it safe for the first test."
Her finger pointed towards Anaxa's name.
"A frail Scholar... theoretically, he should be the best choice."
But thinking of that abstract, manic dance, she hesitated again. "But is it a bit inappropriate to pick a girl to fight? I can't exactly say I'm going to fight Tribbie..."
After much consideration, Black Herta finally made up her mind.
"Decided, it's you—Anaxa, Teacher!"
She lightly tapped Anaxa's name with her finger. "I hope some of your 'rationality' still remains, don't let my test subject be infected and turn into an abstract artist..."
After selecting the target, she thought of another person—Baiheng.
(Internal monologue: That girl Baiheng is technically mine now; she can't just remain a Warehouse Manager who only buys things. I heard the system say this space unconsciously provides upgrades, and it seems to have incidentally improved her basic attributes? This is the perfect chance to see what she's capable of. If I have two cards, I need to know how to play them.)
She acted immediately on the thought.
Black Herta walked directly toward the black door leading to Cyrene's place of confinement. The stairs instantly vanished, bringing her directly to the platform, but she didn't descend, merely standing on the edge of the upper platform, quietly looking down.
She saw that the lower platform had been decorated by Baiheng to feel quite homey.
Soft blankets covered the floor, cushions were scattered around, and Cyrene was sitting quietly on a blanket with an open book on her lap. Baiheng was sitting cross-legged beside her, holding a lotus root cake, talking animatedly while eating, which drew a faint, subtle smile to Cyrene's lips.
Her snow-white Fox Ears and Tail swayed gently as she spoke, appearing lively and warm.
The atmosphere between the two was utterly different—a world away from the misery of Cyrene previously being suspended alone by chains.
Black Herta watched this harmonious scene silently, a complex emotion arising in her heart—perhaps a yearning for beauty, or an unwillingness to break this cozy moment, which prevented her from immediately speaking out to disturb them.
She took a soft breath and adjusted her expression.
Reassuming her inscrutable demeanor, she turned her head and instructed the System behind her:
"Go call Baiheng over. Then, lead her to the entrance of Anaxa's Challenge Space to meet me."
The system puppet showed no signs of doubt (such as "Madam, why don't you go call her yourself?"), merely bowing slightly: "As you command, Madam."
Immediately, its figure vanished from the upper platform as if merging into a data stream, appearing next to Baiheng on the lower platform the next moment, conveying Black Herta's instructions in its inorganic voice.
Black Herta did not linger. Taking the silent Axing, she turned and stepped onto the corridor composed of flowing dark data codes, heading toward a newly materialized dark door.
When she pushed open the door, what came into view was still that 'tidy cell.'
And Anaxa was indeed still squatting in the corner of the room, his back to the door, his shoulders subtly twitching. It was unclear what he was tinkering with, or if he was simply immersed in his abstract world.
---------------------------------
If you'd like to read the next 40 chapters in advance, you can support me on Patreon.
I regularly post chapter previews there, so you'll always be up-to-date and won't have to wait too long.
patreon.com/SolyuraMT
And if you enjoy the story, don't forget to give me a Power Stone. Your support really motivates me to continue translating!