Chapter 501: Crowned One

“How long has it been?”

In the faint light that illuminated their faces at arm’s length, Celicia, no longer trembling, shifted uncomfortably in Muen’s arms and asked.

Muen opened his eyes, took out his pocket watch, and glanced at it. “Half an hour has passed.”

“Nothing happening outside?”

“Nothing.”

“King Yintuo didn’t come after us?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. I spread out an Alchemical Domain that can block our aura.”

“I see...”

Celicia’s gaze flickered, then she slowly lifted her head. Her cool eyes met Muen’s, and suddenly there was a trace of chill in her voice again.

“Then how long are you planning on holding me?”

“Uh...”

Muen froze. He hadn’t expected Celicia to turn on him so fast.

Just a moment ago she’d been shivering like a delicate little bird relying on him for warmth. Now that the side effects had passed, she kicked him away at random.

What was she taking Muen Campbell for, exactly? A portable hand-warmer? Tell me to let go? Like hell I—

“Hmm?”

“Haha, it’s, uh, kinda hot, kinda hot in here.”

Muen obediently let go of Celicia and tugged at his collar, fanning a completely sweatless forehead while glancing around.

After hugging such a giant ice block for so long, like it was going to be hot.

“Looks like you’ve recovered pretty well too.”

Celicia’s gaze dropped inside the collar Muen had pulled open. Just now, his chest had genuinely caved in under King Yintuo’s palm. Yet in just half an hour, it had almost completely recovered.

“Just a bit of flesh wound.”

Muen gave a couple of bitter laughs.

He had almost been slapped into 2D by that palm from King Yintuo—downright miserable. But although his internal organs had all taken damage and that savage, overbearing force had invaded his body, relentlessly tearing it apart, those injuries really were just superficial to him.

With the restorative tools he carried on him, plus the pitch-black sun inside his body that burned everything away, the overbearing power that had surged into him—enough to kill an ordinary martial artist on the spot—had been nothing more than fuel for the black sun, unable to stir up any real wave.

Looked at this way, as long as he wasn’t blown straight into ashes on the spot, losing a few organs here or there, he might still be salvageable.

...Without realizing it, had his vitality started to approach that of those evil cultist types he hated most, the kind you couldn’t finish off even with a follow-up strike?

Muen sighed inwardly for no reason.

“As long as you’re fine.”

Celicia nodded lightly. Her posture was natural; it was impossible to tell whether she cared or not.

She rose from the bed and lowered her head to straighten her slightly rumpled clothes. Her expression didn’t change in the slightest; it was as if the intimate contact from a moment ago had been nothing more than a shared illusion.

Only the faint trace of his scent still lingering around her was something she couldn’t dismiss as hallucination for now.

Muen looked at Celicia as well and saw that some color had indeed returned to her face. The chill clinging to her body had also temporarily faded. Seeing that she truly seemed fine, he finally relaxed.

“He really didn’t come after us?”

After tidying her clothes, Celicia stepped out of the hiding place, circled the area once, then returned to the room.

“This entire fragment of the Shadow of Belrand is still completely quiet.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Seeing Celicia wear that pondering expression, Muen asked curiously.

“Just a little anomaly.”

Celicia lifted her head to look at the churning gray mist in the distance and said, almost to herself:

“But I think I’ve more or less figured it out now.”

“Figured it out?”

“Yes.”

Celicia’s eyes flashed as she spoke in a calm tone:

“That King Yintuo we just faced was probably... only a clone.”

“A clo...”

Muen’s pupils shrank. In his mind, he replayed that terrifying pressure from earlier, like facing an entire mountain collapsing, and he couldn’t help saying in disbelief:

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not sure if it was a clone, but I’m certain it wasn’t the main body.”

Celicia said coldly:

“A puppet, an alchemical automaton, some kind of magical construct—any of these are possible. But there’s no way it was King Yintuo himself.”

“Why?”

“It’s very simple.”

Celicia looked at Muen and paused for a moment.

“If King Yintuo really were personally guarding that place, the two of us would already be dead. There’s no way we’d still be here...”

“Getting all lovey-dovey?”

“......”

“My deepest apologies, please continue.”

Celicia withdrew her knife-like gaze.

“Don’t you find it strange? The fact that we actually managed to escape from his hands. We’re talking about King Yintuo here—an old-guard Crowned One. And what level are we?”

“A late third-rank martial artist.”

Muen pointed at himself, then pointed at Celicia:

“Late fourth-rank martial artist, and a Sublimation-level mage, and a Divine Favor bearer,” Celicia added.

“Quite a mouthful of titles.”

The corner of Muen’s mouth twitched, then he ventured:

“One third-rank, one fourth-rank, managing to escape from a Crowned One—it does sound a bit unbelievable. But is it possible he just got careless?”

“......”

Celicia didn’t answer—she only looked at Muen as if he were an idiot.

“All right, all right, doesn’t sound very likely.”

Muen thought it over for a moment and quickly admitted there was a problem.

Indeed, though King Yintuo had still given him overwhelming pressure and dread back then, the force and scale of his attack were nowhere near the terrifying, heaven-and-earth-distorting level of their first encounter.

In fact, compared to the other times Muen had seen Crowned Ones strike, this was far weaker.

Before, he had assumed King Yintuo had simply underestimated him again... but thinking about it afterward, anyone who had said something like “I’m going to get my dignity back” would never hold back.

This wasn’t some cliché dragon-protagonist power fantasy, and he wasn’t that dragon-protagonist main character. It wasn’t like every time the enemy attacked, they had to hit him right up to the edge of his “awakening” and then just happen to stop short of killing him.

“Crowned Ones, huh...”

Celicia let out a soft sigh.

“The six ranks of mages—Quicksilver, Gold, Arcane, Sublimation, Brilliance, and Truth—rise in a basically balanced fashion. But martial artists are different...”

“For the first five ranks, they’re usually just called first-rank through fifth-rank—plain titles—and they’re looked down on by mages of the same rank. Because in the first five ranks, mages are absolutely more useful than martial artists. Even in pure combat, people say martial artists have the advantage at close range, but if it really comes down to a fair one-on-one where the mage has prepared beforehand, the mage wins. After all, any mage who’s attended school and read their textbooks knows to prepare a few magical tools in advance, don’t they?”

“Let alone in every other area.”

“But once a martial artist advances to the Crowned One realm, their power surges explosively. ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) That is a true qualitative change—a change in the level of life itself, utterly incomparable to the ranks before. From that point on, the earlier statement flips. As long as the Crowned One is not arrogant and careless to a ridiculous degree, in a one-on-one fight against a Truth-level grand mage of the same tier, the winner will always be the Crowned One.”

“‘Heaven-bestowed crown, near-godly body’—those words are not for show,” Celicia said, expression grave.

“Heaven-bestowed crown, near-godly body...”

Muen echoed the phrase under his breath and let out a long breath.

He thought of his father, the man known as the Lion King. One of the reasons the Campbell family had been able to stand unshaken in the Empire as a ducal house despite passing down a single heir each generation—and with such sparse bloodlines—was that almost every Campbell Duke, without exception, had become a Crowned One.

The weight those three words carried was obvious.

“The moment I saw King Yintuo, I had already prepared myself to die.”

Celicia looked at Muen, who had also drifted into thought, and stated something terrifying with an expressionless face.

“But not only did we not die—you even...”

“Wounded King Yintuo?”

“Exactly. Even if those two blades in your hands aren’t ordinary, your realm is still far too low. You shouldn’t have been able to break through King Yintuo’s ‘domain’ at all.”

“True. The pressure at that time was terrifying—but it still wasn’t enough to completely immobilize me.”

“Looks like I don’t need to say anything more, then.”

Celicia fell silent.

Muen didn’t press the issue either. With it said this far, he had already believed her long ago. Only some details needed confirming.

It was just that...

Muen’s brow suddenly twitched. He gave Celicia a strange look.

“After all that, my dear Princess, what are you getting at?”

At his words, Celicia’s eyes immediately grew deep again, her expression somewhat unreadable. She didn’t seem to mind Muen’s use of “my dear.”

She met his gaze and said, enunciating each word:

“Don’t you think it’s a bit of a waste for us to just run away like whipped dogs?”

In the shadow city, everything was silent.

Only within that faint electric-arc domain did a sudden cry ring out, bringing a hint of life back to this place.

“Wha—”

Hearing Celicia’s words, Muen froze for a moment, then couldn’t help exclaiming in shock:

“You mean...”

“That’s right.”

Celicia nodded slightly.

“I mean exactly that.”

“You’ve got to be joking. We threw everything we had at him just to barely escape, and now that we’ve only been out for a bit, we’re going to run back and hand him our heads?”

Muen was a little dumbfounded. He hadn’t expected the delicate-looking Celicia to be even more reckless than him, heir to a family of lunatics.

“Everything we had? Really now?”

Celicia arched a fine brow and stared at Muen meaningfully.

“......”

Muen shut his mouth.

But Celicia didn’t pursue it. Instead, she walked to the window and looked out over the still, shattered shadow city.

“Have you thought about this? We struggled through endless trouble to get here. If we just leave like this, all our previous effort goes to waste. We thrashed around for so long and ended up with nothing. Are you willing to accept that? Those people hiding behind the scenes won’t give us a second chance.”

“I’m not willing—but what can we do? The fact that we managed to escape from King Yintuo shows that those people behind the scenes...”

“Don’t know yet!”

Celicia abruptly cut him off, voice firm as iron.

“They don’t know yet.”

“......”

Muen was taken aback again. “Why? Half an hour is plenty of time for King Yintuo to write those bastards a heartfelt love letter. How could they still not know anything?”

“It has been half an hour, yes. But don’t forget where we are.”

Celicia pointed at the surging gray mist.

“This is the Shadow of Belrand, a place completely cut off from the outside world. Any long-distance communication method is useless here. The connection between King Yintuo’s clone and his main body is inevitably severed right now. So if those skulking cowards want to know what’s happening here, they can only personally—so to speak—send something that can carry their will into this place.”

“But they can’t stay here all the time. Their identities mean they can’t vanish from the public eye for too long. Hiding their secrets in a place this concealed means they have to accept this inconvenience as the price. A full half hour has passed, and it’s still this quiet here. No one has come to track the two of us down. That is the best proof.”