I Am the Answer, Then What Is the Question?

As dawn broke and sunlight streamed in, Isabel suddenly groaned as if startled awake, slowly waking from her dream.

Her cheeks were slightly flushed. She rubbed her face vigorously, trying to warm it away with her palms.

"Ugh..."

She made a sound like a small animal's whimpering, humming something.

But soon, Isabel quieted down again.

She lay on the empty bed with her arms outstretched, staring blankly at the silver-white ceiling of the bedroom, which was decorated with red cloth and silver chandeliers and constructed of silver and tin.

Isabel unconsciously grasped at the air around her.

She had prepared a pillow for Iver long ago. But so far, Iver has only slept here once.

Sometimes, Isabel wishes she would wake up to find that familiar person lying beside her, instead of only being able to see them in her dreams.

But from another perspective... being able to reunite in a dream is at least better than never being able to see each other again after parting.

At least now, every night before she falls asleep, she can still look forward to being embraced by Iver in another world.

"... But I will still miss you."

She turned slightly, gazing at the empty, cold space beside her, and murmured softly, "I want to see you."

Next, Iver is about to perform a dangerous ritual.

To conserve her energy and get into a better state of mind, Isabel will not see him for at least several nights.

Isabel missed Iver, but she didn't want to ask Iver to come see her that evening—though she could have restrained herself and simply held him close to fall asleep more peacefully. Yet she didn't even make that request.

More than her loneliness at wanting to see him, she was worried about Iver's safety.

The fact that even Iver considered the ritual "very dangerous" made Isabel very uneasy. In her mind, Iver was almost omnipotent—he had rescued her from such a desperate situation and tamed the chaotic Avalon like a hunting dog. Even when facing a real demon, he only took it seriously, never showing fear or despair.

—But even someone like Iver believed that the operation would be extremely dangerous. He didn't even tell Isabel the specific details of the ritual.

Isabel knows Iver well.

This was because Iver believed that Isabel would worry about him if she knew the details of the ritual. To avoid letting Isabel experience the anxiety of a loved one being wheeled into an operating room alone, he said nothing.

... But conversely, if Iver said nothing, it would be tantamount to him believing that it would worry Isabel. Therefore, Isabel became even more worried.

But there was nothing Isabel could do.

Leaving aside what she could do—she wasn't even by Iver's side.

"... All we can do is pray."

"Isabel said softly. She took a deep breath and, with a push of her waist, rolled over and sat up in bed."

She knelt on the quilt, her hands clasped together in a respectful and devout manner. As she lowered her head, her slightly disheveled light golden hair fell naturally down.

"I beseech the Silver Crowned Dragon, the God of the Sacred Number Seven. The God who cannot be disobeyed, the God who wears a crown and wields a sword..."

"Please protect Iver as you would your own country..."

To ease her inner unease, Isabel repeatedly whispered prayers for Iver.

When the sun was high in the sky, Isabel finished dressing and sat upright in the Queen's study, intently reading the gift that Iver had sent her through church channels.

The Puppet Mask Grimoire.

Iver had told Isabel that if she could master this Grimoire, she might be able to transcend the limits of space and appear simultaneously in Avalon and the Theocracy.

Although Iver didn't tell Isabel the true efficacy of the * Puppet Mask Grimoire * in order to avoid preconceived notions that might hinder her study of the tantras, Isabel still diligently studied the Grimoire few days.

It wasn't entirely for the purpose of meeting Iver "offline"... but also to free herself from the constraints of the title "Queen".

Next to Isabel was another small, thin book titled "Hell Transformation · Puppet Show." This could be considered a reference book for "The Puppet Mask Grimoire," or rather, a decryption card.

As Grimoire on the Path of Beauty, reading "The Puppet Mask Grimoire" naturally tests the reader's talent and adaptability on the Path of Beauty —when Isabel flipped through this book, the text on it did not form words that could be read normally.

This book is not a story; it is a diary.

Isabel had always enjoyed writing in her diary, so she immediately immersed herself in the story.

Moreover, the first owner of this diary appears to have been a Queen... she was known as the "Queen of Kings." She was not human, but a snake-woman. The diary contains enigmatic passages written in a poetic and profound style.

But on top of her words, other languages were superimposed. The second owner of the diary called herself "Xiao Lu," an "archaeology student from the Empire" who seemed to be investigating the history of snake people and thus found a copy of the diary. She then made numerous annotations and complaints about her daily life in this diary.

Its third owner, named "John," appeared to be a literature professor at the university who was also researching that period of snake-people history. He discovered Xiao Lu's diary, but instead of reporting her, he chatted with her within it. They expressed different opinions about the snake- Queen's diary, and engaged in dialogue, sharing feelings and secrets.

However, this Elven Language Grimoire mixes these three texts together.

Isabel initially thought it was a translator's mistake, as she hadn't understood the book after two days of reading.

She kept reading until she got a headache from it, and this morning she picked up the book "Hell Transformation · Puppet Show" and started flipping through it for fun... After reading for a while, a sudden inspiration struck her.

Isabel suddenly realized—it wasn't that the translator hadn't done a good job, but rather that he had done it too well.

The original version of this Grimoire must have contained words in three different handwriting styles mixed together in the same book, and the translator unified them using the same font.

She looked at the thin picture book, searching for each object within it. Then, using each object, she searched for words that matched those words in the original text, starting each sentence with that word and reading from there. The result was a completely different sentence with a completely different meaning.

Every sentence is a question, every sentence is a riddle.

Although she couldn't understand the meaning of these riddles at all, Isabel felt a captivating and mysterious attraction.

As Isabel watched, completely absorbed, she suddenly understood the cryptic words of "Queen of Kings."

Those incomprehensible words are precisely the answers to the riddles posed in the "reference book".

"—The riddle's initial Riddle Mask are themselves the answer to the riddle!"

Isabel suddenly realized.

But the moment Isabel fully understood the secrets of the book, she suddenly felt a sense of distortion.

It was like breaking free from an illusion—the world around me shattered like a broken windowpane.

Her consciousness was drawn into the Grimoire.

Inside, she saw the alluring snake Queen, the innocent and romantic college student Xiao Lu, the serious yet gentle teacher John, and many more people...

Many stories unfolded around this book that told the story of the "Snake Queen".

Then they became stories, and then new stories unfolded around those stories, in a continuous cycle.

Finally, the scene changes—

—In the very beginning, there was hardly anyone!

They were all just masks with different expressions, dancing around the stage. Then the image of their dance contracted inwards, becoming the content of another book, with more masks appearing on the outside; then the image contracted again...

In this cycle of one book within another, all the masks are connected by thin, transparent threads, the ends of which extend into the endless darkness above.

"I ask you, my successor."

"If I were the answer."

A deep, resonant voice sounded in Isabel's ear, "So, what's the problem?"