The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness Chapter 599: The King of Pride (6)

High above the sky, the fierce battle between the Indra King and Albert was still ongoing.

Lightning scattered across the heavens. Golden willow-cotton drifted down in showers. A pitch-black ninefold ring collided with the massive branches of the golden holy tree, and the violent impacts bood like ten thousand drums echoing again and again.

But in those clashes that looked evenly matched, the Indra King was gradually being pushed into the losing side.

"Indra King, I admire you. If you're willing to submit to again, I can let what just happened go!"

Albert threw his head back and laughed, seated high upon his throne, letting him look down easily upon all things in the world.

The Indra King—a Crowned One who could crush those of the sa tier, arrogant beyond asure—was nothing more than a clown putting on a show before him now, not worth worrying about at all. From just now until this mont, Albert had only been casually sprinkling out this mighty power, dropping heavenly might with a flick of a finger, while the Indra King couldn't even get close.

How dashing. How free and unrestrained. With nothing but a hook of his fingertips, endless heavenly light tore through the darkness. With nothing but the reach of his will, ten thousand subjects bowed and knelt, choosing submission.

This... was the Emperor! The Emperor of the Empire!

"Do you see it, Indra King? That little brat isn't worthy of ordering you around. Why throw away such a bright future over a little petty kindness? Or are you waiting for reinforcents from soone else?"

Albert's laughter ran wild. His sidelong gaze swept the surroundings with sothing like mockery.

"No one will help you. Who would dare stop ? Who would dare stop their Emperor? The Campbell family? The royal faction? The Adventurers' Association? The Academy? Or the Church?

"Haha—give it up. It's impossible... those people only make choices for profit anyway. Now I'm already the Emperor carved in stone. Why would they defy ? Naive!"

"..."

The Indra King didn't answer.

Or rather, he had answered—in his own way... with a punch!

That monstrous force slamd into the golden holy tree again, making those thick branches shudder without end.

"Utterly foolish!"

Albert snorted, and the heavenly light abruptly dimd. Ten thousand thunders roared. The entire country seed to change with the shift of his emotions...

This was the wrath of a sovereign.

He raised a hand in a summoning gesture. The branches of the golden holy tree drooped, twining around each other, twisting into a long spear with a double-helix structure. An even more massive golden radiance gathered again, pouring into the spear.

In an instant, the spear pierced across distant space. Ink-like scuff marks appeared at its tail. It looked slow, but the Indra King had nowhere to retreat. He could only swing his fist and block head-on.

But the spear plated in golden light was unmatched in might. In a blink, it tore through the Indra King's defense and stabbed deep into his flesh.

"Well? My move!"

Albert turned from anger to laughter again. After all, he possessed the breadth of a true sovereign—how could he get angry so easily? Right now he was full of ravines and thunder in his chest, yet his surface remained calm and indifferent. With a lift of his hand, overwhelming power descended.

Mm. He felt he was already an excellent Emperor. Under his leadership, the Empire would surely grow even more prosperous.

"..."

...Blood flowed. The Indra King's face went a shade paler. He staggered a few steps, yanked the spear from his chest, and crushed it.

Golden radiance still lingered at the wound, preventing his nearly immortal body from recovering.

He lowered his head and looked...

From the mont he had acted tonight until now—from one-against-three, to one-against-two, to the current one-against-one—the one who was truly badly hurt...

Was, instead, him right now.

"So that's how it is."

The Indra King's expression didn't change in the slightest. He reached up and wiped across his chest, grasping a wisp of golden radiance in his palm.

His clouded eyes swept the surroundings. In his gray-toned vision, countless lights identical to the one in his hand were gathering—from beneath his feet, from this city, and from farther still... from deep within the soil of this country's land. They stread along densely packed root systems and, in the end, flowed into that golden tree, bright enough to stab the eyes.

"So your power cos from squeezing the people of this country dry? The King's Sword... I thought it would be sothing amazing. You squander the strength taken from those pitiful people at will, and you're still so smug about it. Do you have any sha at all?"

"...Shut up! As the Emperor of the Empire, what's wrong with using their strength? It's the honor of those lowly wretches!"

Albert's face darkened abruptly.

The 'breadth' he had just imagined himself to have vanished without a trace in that instant. The golden light across the sky trembled, once again displaying his imperial wrath.

And only then did he realize—those latter words just now...

Didn't seem to have been spoken by the Indra King.

The turbulence of the golden giant tree stilled in an instant. Albert lifted a brow, mildly surprised, and looked behind the Indra King.

"Oh? What an unexpected sight. I didn't think you'd still have the nerve to co back, my dear little sister."

"Why wouldn't I? ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) Is this so point-of-no-return mountain of blades and sea of fire?"

Celicia was still in that light, floating white dress. Her cool side profile, under the reflection of golden radiance, looked holy—like an angel's blessing rested upon her.

"So you've finally co to choose submission to ?" Albert craned his neck, sneering.

"You're nothing but a rat usurping the throne. What right do you have?" Celicia shot back.

"Bold!"

Albert clapped his hands and grinned viciously.

"Let's see if you're still this stubborn when I crush every bone in your body."

"Talk after you actually do it."

Before the canopy-blotting golden giant tree, Celicia's slender figure looked so faint and frail. Yet she ca alone, without a shred of fear.

She turned her head to the Indra King at the side.

"Thank you for your help, Lord Indra King. You can step back for now."

"Step back?"

The Indra King looked puzzled. "You're going to face him alone?"

"Yes."

"You'll die."

"I won't die."

"But..."

"This is also Muen's instruction. I assu you won't disobey his command for the ti being."

Celicia said, "Step back. Leave this to ."

"Then... alright."

The Indra King pressed his palms together and offered Celicia a sincere prayer.

"I don't know what thod you have, but I hope you'll live long enough for to repay this debt."

"You don't need to worry about that. Disasters live for a thousand years. That guy's life might be so long you'll end up repaying the debt until it starts to feel like a bad deal."

Celicia turned around. Fearless, she faced the golden giant tree that rose ten thousand zhang high.

"As for ... I'm not the type to surrender that easily."

...

The Indra King retreated. And so beneath the imnse golden tree, only Celicia and Albert remained, staring at each other coldly.

"So... all that nonsense about 'not losing so easily'—you really did co back to die?"

Albert lounged sideways on his throne, resting his cheek on his hand as he snickered.

"I thought you'd be a little smarter. Hurry up and take Muen Campbell to go find his old man—maybe you could cling to life a bit longer. Or... did that hit I gave you earlier injure your brain, and now you're as stupid as your 'brother'?"

"Unfortunately, I'm not here to die, and I'm not doing anything foolish."

Celicia's expression was serious. She said each word coldly, one by one.

"Just as I said. I'm here to kill you and bring everything back onto the right track."

"Oh? And what are you relying on? Just you, a fifth-tier martial artist?"

Albert laughed like he'd heard the funniest joke in the world, and he couldn't stop.

"Of course I'm relying on—"

Speaking with a straight face, Celicia's tone suddenly shifted. She tilted her head and looked toward a certain direction.

"I've said so much. If I'm not wrong... it should be starting over there."

"Over there?" Albert frowned, confused.

"Yes."

Celicia lowered her eyelids. And inside those ice-lake eyes, for so reason, an imnse sorrow was suddenly brewing.

"Albert, you're intoxicated by the joy of becoming this so-called 'Emperor.' You think victory is already in your hands, that you're omnipotent. But before that...

Did you forget sothing?"

...

...

Outside the quiet imperial bedchamber, a small disturbance suddenly rose.

And then quickly stilled.

A faint sll of blood dispersed into the night's slightly cold wind.

And soon vanished.

The bedchamber door opened without a sound. A little light fell into the luxurious room that now looked especially bleak and empty, casting within it a bear-shaped shadow that seed a little ridiculous.

"Still holding on, huh."

The Pink Bear, covered in blood, casually tossed the maid's corpse from his hand, then swaggered over to the imperial couch, his footsteps making wet slapping sounds.

He dragged over a chair and sat down with his legs crossed. Facing the old man on the couch—once the most exalted elder in the Empire—he picked his nose in an utterly improper posture.

"You're really ugly, Aldrich."

The Pink Bear flicked his finger, sending who-knew-what filth flying off sowhere.

"Is that... so?"

The withered old man on the couch spoke slowly. His voice was hoarse, like two pieces of raw cloth grinding together, with none of his forr authority or dominance left.

But in the darkness, his eyes looked very bright, without a trace of the murkiness they ought to have—like a dying flare of clarity before the end.

"No matter how lofty an Emperor is, at the mont of death he's nothing more than an ordinary old man. My current state is only natural. There's nothing worth sighing over."

"But you shouldn't have died this early."

The Pink Bear looked at him. A hidden glint passed through those glossy bear eyes, like pity.

"You could've lived longer than even . You could've beco an even better Emperor than you are now. But you still chose this road."

"Living longer than a wastrel like you—what aning is there in that? In the end, you still can't escape the fate you should have."

As he spoke, Aldrich III began coughing violently again. For a ti, the only sound in the room was his coughing. The Pink Bear was extrely patient, waiting in silence.

"This is the only chance. After laying plans for so long, we finally have hope of ending the evil bond the First King left a thousand years ago. Sacrificing sothing insignificant is necessary. It's nothing. I know you—if you were in my position, you'd do the sa."

Aldrich turned his head with effort, looking out the window at the golden giant tree.

"Besides, if we don't cut that kind of thing out, the Empire will only end in destruction. So I, you, and Celicia...

We all must complete the mission we're supposed to complete."

"This mission is far too heavy."

"You know she'll do it well."

"You know I'm not talking about her."

The Pink Bear sighed. In the end, he shook his head helplessly.

"Forget it. We're already at this point. Saying more nonsense will just waste ti. Where's 'that'?"

"It was prepared long ago. Don't worry."

"You really are the kind of bastard who leaves people speechless."

The Pink Bear scolded and laughed, like an adult dealing with a naughty child. Yet it didn't feel out of place, because he truly was the only person in this world who could scold this old man—forgotten by many, yet still the Empire's true Emperor.

"Then, let's begin."

With a beckoning gesture from the Pink Bear, another figure erged from the shadows.

The previous Saintess.

Her face was solemn. Both hands held an exquisite long wooden box.

The box opened. A black longsword that looked ordinary, yet made it impossible to look away, appeared before them.

"The sword's na is Temperance."

The previous Saintess said, "Aside from the crude prototype that soone took to be lted down and made into toys for children, this is one of the Church's three remaining holy swords—and the most complete one. It still contains the 'miracle' bestowed by the Goddess, and has power opposite to that prototype. It can sever all intangible things in the world."

"Thank you," Aldrich gave a slight nod.

"No need to thank ."

The first Saintess lowered her gaze.

"The Church also doesn't want that kind of thing borrowing a corpse to return. So providing the necessary help is only right."

"Ah, why are you rambling so much? At a ti like this, still thanking back and forth—it's annoying as hell!"

The Pink Bear abruptly stood up impatiently, cursing under his breath as he peeled off the suit he wore.

Beneath it was a silver-haired middle-aged man, with the cold, handso features passed down through the royal bloodline. His ssy beard looked like it hadn't been grood in a long ti, yet it carried a different sort of weathered weight.

Orlanriel snatched up the holy sword Temperance and moved to Aldrich's side, aiming its point at Aldrich's chest.

Like he was about to thrust it down at once.

But then the sword tip trembled slightly—and suddenly stopped.

Orlanriel stared down at the old man beneath him, far older than he was, yet in truth soone he had watched grow up. His voice suddenly trembled, raspy.

"I don't know what to say. So... I'll just say goodbye."

"Mhm. Goodbye."

Aldrich nodded lightly.

"Help look after Celicia. And also—keep an eye on that brat Muen Campbell. If he's going to beco the Empire's Prince Consort, he can't be a skirt-chaser."

"You're making things hard for . The won that kid sses with are scarier one after another. How would I dare manage him?"

Orlanriel paused.

"But don't worry. Celicia... I'll watch over her properly."

Then, the holy sword fell.

Sacred radiance blood from Aldrich's chest, dazzling and brilliant.

In the intangible, sothing like blood-red patterns surfaced...

And then were severed.

Severed along with them was, sowhere in the unseen, this Emperor's special connection to sothing—and the special status of sothing that connection had forged.

Yes. Even Albert had forgotten it.

This old man whose life force was ebbing away, even now, was still the Emperor of the Empire, and also...

The true controller of the King's Sword!

Dong.

A grand bell sounded, as if mourning this mont.

Orlanriel closed his eyes and murmured softly.

"Then... farewell forever, noble Emperor of the Empire, ruler of the Empire of boundless achievents...

Aldrich Leopold III."

"May your soul find eternal rest."