What I Must Do

Then Miss Lynx's throat bobbed.

"I... am her friend." The moment she said those words, she had already lost completely.

Filianore tilted her head.

"So, your friend has a suitor, shouldn't you be happy for her? Or do you actually have some unique thoughts about Surtr?"

Kal'tsit's almond-shaped eyes widened—she found herself in a predicament where neither advancing nor retreating was an option. Whether she agreed, refuted, or changed the subject, she was at a complete disadvantage!

She stammered—and that was all she could do.

Just then, the Fire Keeper, who had finally stopped watching, stepped in to smooth things over before things got out of hand.

"Miss Kal'tsit, it's lunchtime." She gestured for him to come. "I've bought some food and drinks at the nearby market. Would you like to continue our discussion over lunch?"

Kal'tsit, having no other choice, bowed her head and acquiesced.

The Fire Keeper then raised her head and cast a questioning look, hidden behind her blindfold, at Miss Surtr, who realized that there was no way to escape.

—It's all over.

The Flame-haired maiden forced herself to remain calm because all possibilities were locked away.

—Her feelings are genuine... That's how it has always been for immortal beings. Once they've made a decision, they'll see it through no matter what. My engagement with her could only have been signed fourteen thousand years ago. And unless I travel back to that era and sever that history from the very beginning, this promise will remain a part of her thoughts for fourteen thousand years, a pure and flawless love.

—She likes me. The evidence is overwhelming, the motive is sound. And she admits it herself, not because of my excessive self-consciousness... unlike Alina. She... Filianore, doesn't have any deep ties to anyone other than me... Hila? No, Hila is just her handmaid. I can't use that as a reason to reject her. And...

Miss Surtr, ask yourself this.

—Do I really have absolutely no feelings for her? Do I really... dislike her at all?

Reflect, ask yourself questions.

She was well aware that Filianore differed from the fleeting image in the original work. Her figure, appearance, speech, and temperament were almost all in her favor, and even if there were slight deviations, they were still pleasant surprises.

Is this a coincidence? No, this is not a coincidence.

In my past life in ancient times, children from certain prominent families would be betrothed at a young age. From the day the betrothal was made, both the bride and groom would undergo subtle, targeted upbringing. Their aesthetic sense would be guided, and both men and women would be led to be interested in the type of their betrothed. When both came of age, a poetry gathering or banquet, where everyone except the main guest was merely a supporting character, would lead the destined couple to fall in love at first sight.

—It was a marriage of convenience, yet also a union of true love. Even if the two had never met before adulthood, it wasn't impossible for feelings to develop over time. And me... the many traces I left behind fourteen thousand years ago are more than enough for someone with discerning eyes to deduce my aesthetics and preferences... Didn't I instantly become interested in the Fire Keeper?

I gently clenched my fist, and the weight in my heart finally settled.

For the gods, physique and appearance are easily altered. But speech, manner of speaking, and habits are destined to be difficult to change once formed—this marriage contract, however early it was signed, occurred after she stepped into the First Flame. By then, Filianore must have already developed a stable way of doing things. And it's unlikely that any elder could force her to make a decision.

—She spent fourteen thousand years sculpting herself into the form I desired. She entered into a one-sided marriage with me of her own volition. And she should have known very well that I might not actually be able to return to this world... Didn't I fail to reach the era of Dark Souls III?

Ah, whatever the origins of this feeling, at this moment, it truly can be described as 'love'—can I really refuse her? Refuse a fiancée who's practically telling me, "I've lived all these years, waited all these years, all for the sake of marrying you when you return"?

Can I do it? Can I bring myself to do it?

Time seemed to slow. The Flame-haired maiden looked up, her gaze passing over the Filianore and the Fire Keeper —they were both tense. Though they appeared calm on the outside, Miss Surtr could clearly sense the rate of their heartbeats and blood flow, and knew they were awaiting her decision.

Without a doubt, the Fire Keeper is on Filianore's side. And the reason Filianore made this sudden appearance is undoubtedly because she obtained important information from the Fire Keeper.

—Will you come back to Terra with me?

—Ah, a girl willing to relinquish the glory of the Divine Court, her ruling position, and surrender everything to me, in order to be taken back to a strange and foreign land by me. What reason can I possibly find to question her sincerity?

—I can't do that, not even with this sentiment. Undeniably. So...

—Should I... try to accept her?

The thought flashed by in an instant. With a resigned sigh, the Flame-haired maiden raised her neck.

"Let's go together," she said.

She has made her decision.

The tomb-sweeping for Qingming Festival took a little longer than expected _(:з"∠)_

Chapter 202 What I Should Do

Ultimately, Miss Surtr was the one who truly held power here. Once she made her decision, even the unwilling Kaimiaomiao could only lower her head and walk into the caravan. Filianore, however, first gave her a sweet smile before gracefully following behind, lifting the hem of her skirt.

They both left, but the Fire Keeper deliberately stayed behind.

And as she approached the wagon, also lost in thought, he bowed his head to her.

"I'm sorry, Miss. I concealed His Highness's matter from you..."

"—Your Highness, ah...think about it carefully. The Fire Keeper and Filianore, Kal'tsit and Theresia ...these two groups seem like mirror images of each other. Tsk, I see. No wonder Kal'tsit couldn't even finish a sentence in front of Filianore. Wasn't she completely countered from the start? In front of 'Theresia,' how could Kal'tsit possibly have a say?"

—In that case, I guess I was being a bit too demanding of her. Hoping Kal'tsit could buy her some time in front of that pink and white mirror image... Sigh, I should take some time to comfort her. And Theresia is actually still alive... well, to be precise, not completely dead. Maybe I should hint at that to her when I have the chance.

—Will this affect Persephone's plans? No...not really. As long as she hasn't specifically told me this needs to be kept secret, it means revealing it won't have much of an impact... That's true, although I don't know what they're plotting against, at least I can be sure that creature can't read memories at will. And Kal'tsit's Originium Infection has already been treated by her... Yes, Kal'tsit's presence here, whatever the reason, must be due to Persephone's involvement behind the scenes.

—But it's a bit strange, why didn't she plant a mental parasite on Kal'tsit this time... Is it because I showed displeasure last time? But I didn't explicitly forbid her from doing so... Hmm, perhaps there's still some kind of barrier between Kal'tsit and her, and this gives us another reason to mend their relationship.

The pause between words was only a moment, but her thoughts had already turned completely. She waved her hand, her fingertips gently resting on the Fire Keeper's shoulder.

"It's not your fault, it's my fault for not asking," she sighed softly—blaming others and shirking responsibility are the actions of the weak. As a true woman who dared to face the bloodshed of life, Miss Surtr wouldn't stoop to pinning the blame on the Fire Keeper.

"But you did ask..."—she was referring to when Surtr asked her about the gods she worshipped a few days earlier.

"I didn't ask." — But a truly good boss knows how to take the blame for things that don't harm him but put pressure on his subordinates.

So the Fire Keeper lowered her head—she was already lowering her head, but lowered it even further. Her fair, delicate nape and a small part of her back were now presented to Miss Surtr —the blindfolded noblewoman thus demonstrating her obedience and submissiveness to her master.

Miss Surtr felt her composure was truly declining—for just moments before, she had distinctly felt her heart skip a beat. She knew she had fallen for him; she wanted to pin this elegant, noble woman to the ground, against the car, and humiliate her right there. In the past, she would never have done such a thing.

Yes, she wouldn't do that—in the past, her mind was always filled with all sorts of strange, somewhat discordant, subtle thoughts. But in the past, she only ever thought about them, never had the slightest motivation or desire to act on them. And just now, she knew that her hand on the Fire Keeper's shoulder almost slipped away.

What will your hand touch as it slides down? What will you grab? What will you do?

I don't know, and I don't want to know. After all, even if the scene were recreated before I left Terra, I wouldn't put my hand on the Fire Keeper's shoulder.

I've become weak.

"So what if someone proposed to me in person? Haven't I been proposed to a lot before? But in the past, even if someone confessed their love passionately, I would have resolutely refused. Because in the dream world, I am ultimately just a passerby. Even if I make a promise, in the end, it's just a fleeting moment of pleasure before I leave, leaving the person I made the promise with alone and miserable in the dream world."

—A short, sharp pain is worse than a long, drawn-out one. Rather than letting them grit their teeth and say "I don't regret it" in loneliness and solitude at the end of their lives, it's better to shorten the pain. After all, time can always heal the wounds of heartbreak—I've always handled these situations well in the past. After all, there's no such thing as being forced to accept someone's confession just because they confessed to you.