Princess Colette’s life was like a small boat slowly approaching a sky-darkening tidal wave.
The emperor fell ill and could not rise, and the struggles within the dynasty grew ever fiercer. The major noble houses were forced to choose sides, and the three primary candidates each led their own faction.
In the eyes of many nobles, Colette was taciturn and calm. She rarely gave public speeches or actively sought alliances, which made her the weakest in reputation among the three candidates. Her advantage, however, was that she hardly ever made mistakes. She treated subordinates and faction members with an exceptionally fair system of rewards and punishments. There was no fear that someone’s merit would be stolen, nor of being treated differently.
That virtue attracted a group of talented but overlooked people. Many came from humble backgrounds and had little chance to demonstrate their abilities in other noble houses.
Though she spoke little, Colette’s dignity gradually solidified within the faction. Nobles who had once thought they could control her slowly grew submissive and no longer dared to recklessly probe her boundaries.
Twelve years later, the emperor split the dynasty’s affairs into three parts, assigning them to the three candidates to manage temporarily. He told them he would choose a successor based on their achievements after ten years.
After that, the emperor withdrew into seclusion within the inner palace and no longer appeared publicly, and the struggle among the three princes and princesses intensified to its boiling point.
Many were puzzled by the emperor’s move. Didn’t this essentially loosen restraints and encourage palace infighting? Others, however, argued that it might be the best choice.
By letting the fiercest struggle determine the best heir, and turning the losers’ resources and powers into nourishment for the new regime, many conflicts could be resolved.
The three factions fought over court positions, major financial powers, and which legions would pledge allegiance. At first the disputes were limited to the imperial council, with accusations and curses hurled back and forth. Later, leading figures in each faction began to die from suspicious accidents. Eventually some territories openly declared they would obey only one princess or prince.
As the situation escalated, Prince Horsa and Princess Eve suddenly joined forces to eliminate Colette’s faction, which was the weakest. The dynasty’s legions were mobilized. Two grand dukes and six counts were killed one after another. In an instant Colette’s faction suffered devastating losses, and the palace where she resided was besieged by the imperial troops.
It looked like the balance would tip completely, yet Colette’s palace held out for months, until reinforcements arrived and relieved the crisis.
The root cause was that neither of the besieging sides was willing to fight to the death. The defenders were determined to die rather than surrender, which made the attackers cautious. They feared losing critical forces during the assault and giving the other side an advantage.
After this incident, Princess Colette’s prestige soared, and the nobles who had been wavering solidified their loyalty.
In the years that followed, Colette began to truly awaken. She gradually installed loyal people into every important position within her faction, then consolidated resources like forging them in iron.
By contrast, Prince Horsa and Princess Eve derived their power primarily from their clans, and had to make compromises in certain matters. They constantly prioritized family interests, which prevented them from being absolutely fair. They frequently overlooked corruption and mistakes within their own families.
With their decline and Colette’s rise, her faction grew ever stronger. Eight years later, Colette’s well-trained, disciplined legions smashed Grand Duke Ferren’s Tiesse Legion. The duke himself died in battle, and his family’s Blood Seal Knights were almost wiped out.
After losing the family’s core strength, Prince Horsa’s faction spiraled out of control. Everyone scrambled to seize leadership, afraid of becoming cannon fodder sacrificed in future struggles.
Thus Horsa’s faction collapsed amid civil chaos.
A year later, without Horsa to keep balance, Princess Eve’s faction was also routed. Her family ceded Blue Harbor Port and was subsequently exiled to the borderlands.
Before the ten-year agreement had ended, Colette already controlled most of the dynasty. The rest was a steady path to succession; she assumed the imperial throne and took the regnal name Colette Vanti.
Before her rule was fully secure, Colette summoned that sorcerer man once more.
“Has His Majesty finally remembered you?” At present that sorcerer was no longer favored. He was no longer a royal adviser, but lived in seclusion in a forest far from the capital.
“Yes.”
Sylutia looked at herself in the mirror—wearing the Crown of Thorns—and hurriedly turned, fixing her gaze on the plainly robed sorcerer man.
You can feel the emotions contained in that memory, and you want to settle what happened back then.
“You must have already discovered some truths at that time. Why ask me again?” the sorcerer bowed.
“You know some truths, but you still have some unresolved knots.” Colette raised her hand and made a heavy gesture. The three of them shifted positions, and they arrived directly at a hidden manor deep inside the palace.
Outside there were few decorations. There was a large earthen mound—an imperial burial hill—covered in grass, and under the mound grew an apple tree.
“Your mother didn’t die back then, did she?” you asked, looking at the large mound.
“She did not.” The sorceress’s voice answered softly.
“Why did she do what she did?”
“Because she wanted freedom.”
“I see...” Colette Vanti fell silent.
“Did she live well afterward?”
“So-so. After losing her status as crown princess and because her own power wasn’t outstanding, she traveled a lot, married an ordinary man, and later, due to ideological differences, they quarreled and she lived alone, leading a quiet life.”
“Did the emperor know?”
“He knew.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t like being emperor either. At the time I thought him weak, and I even mocked him.”
“How did you meet the emperor?”
“It was long ago, when he was still a prince disregarded by others. I entered the palace as an outstanding prodigy, and with my classmates we received the former emperor’s rewards and met that melancholy boy.”
“I rather liked him, so I moved closer to him and eventually gave birth to his child.”
“Although at first there was some resistance, he played the role of emperor well. With overwhelming authority he suppressed various factional powers. I adored him, as if he were the perfect masterpiece I had created.”
“Sadly, he never fully accepted it in his heart. He grew melancholy, and eventually fell ill.”
“Bloodline rhythms—an aspect concept tied to the heart and blood—are affected by emotion. As a Transcendent with a high-tier Aspect, his moods gradually altered his own rhythm, like chronic self-destruction.”
“I was angry at his weakness, but I also pitied him. After all, much of his life was changed by me. He only wanted to be an ordinary prince.”
“To prevent his achievements from lacking successors and to ensure the dynasty would flourish again, I began to help him select a suitable heir.”
“Although Reid was my child, his aptitude was limited. Making him a candidate would only push him toward the abyss.”
“Among the many princes and princesses, while there were capable ones, none were dazzling enough. Entrusting the dynasty’s future to an unremarkable person—like handing a masterpiece an unfinished, careless ending—I could not accept such a bland, mediocre future.”
“A ruler’s legacy judges an era, not only by contemporary deeds but by what follows. I would not allow his achievements to have blemishes, so—”
“I found you, Your Majesty Colette Vanti.”
“Please trust the vision and acuity of a genius. The scars left on you by the past will become your greatest weapons. They will let you look at things with absolute calm and reason, without being swayed by emotion. That is the best qualification for an emperor.”
“I see...” Colette Vanti sighed. Her golden hair flowed down to her waist, and the luxurious, noble red gown contrasted with it, producing breathtaking beauty.
She no longer felt love for the sorceress, yet the hatred she had once harbored had almost vanished, leaving only a resigned sigh.
“I will destroy all of this—both you and the dynasty.”
Faced with that threat, the sorceress merely bowed her head and did not respond. Seeing that reaction, Colette’s face finally flared with some anger.
“Including your child, Reid.”
“Please, Your Majesty, spare your anger.” The sorceress sighed and dropped to her knees.
Then she took out a curved blade and lightly slid it across her own neck, quietly and plainly taking her own life on the spot.
Watching the sorceress die there, with no chance of resurrection, Colette’s initial anger dissipated into an indescribable emptiness.
She closed her eyes and remained silent for a long time, then summoned an attendant.
“Bury her properly. As for Prince Reid, remove him from the royal records. Pretend he never existed. No one need pay attention to him in the future.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Afterward Colette Vanti grew even more cold and severe. With a hard fist she completed the dynasty’s reorganization and restored its prosperity. Yet such policies, after her death, spiraled out of control. No subsequent emperor could match her height.
The dream gradually approached its end. The many bursts of past memories often left Sylutia dazed, to the point that she felt she was Colette Vanti. She had grown used to her golden hair and red eyes, and maintained that cool, singular tone of voice.
The corridors of memory seemed endless. She passed through them again and again. Colette Vanti’s experiences deepened each time, and in habit, speech, and thought she began to unify with that Blood Clan empress.
If this continued, she feared she would become the empress’s spiritual rebirth.
There was no physical harm, no hostility, but this maze of dream corridors had become Sylutia’s greatest present danger. Once she crossed that critical threshold, her core personality would shift.
Normally, ordinary people cannot penetrate dreams so clearly to feel another’s life experience. Even high-tier Transcendents who study Secret Word Aspects rarely can. It requires an exceptionally sharp, lucid soul that is not rejected by Blood Clan royal blood.
Moreover, if one’s mental power is weak, experiencing such a dream for mere months can collapse the mind, causing the dreamer to wake and exit.
Sylutia, however, had sufficient aptitude and strength to fully live through the dream memories and repeat them.
In reality, the girl seated inside the cavern, holding Carmilla, began to change. Her long black hair gradually lightened from the tips: it first became a semi-transparent brown, then slowly shifted toward gold. Her unopened eyes, once black, gradually showed a hint of true crimson.
Comments