Far away, the neon lights of skyscrapers melted into the false firmament’s starry sea. The incessant flow of traffic operated like the veins of the metropolis, while the never-sleeping street lighting knights below carved thick realms of light.
Brilliance and decadence collided; remnants of an unwilling-to-end old era disguised themselves as the future. Shadows wantonly sucked the desires emitted by the city. Each corner seemed like a monster waiting to devour, burying countless fallen souls made from alcohol and sugary smoke.
Ashe and Annan leaned against the windowsill, gazing at each other. Half of their bodies were bathed in the room’s lighting, while the other half was cloaked in the city’s darkness. Their eyes flickered, reflecting the ambiguous image of one another.
“Good thing Igor reminded me. You’re not thinking of extending our pact verbally, are you?” Ashe crossed his arms, signaling his refusal. “If I agreed, wouldn’t the slave pact, with a 101-day term, automatically renew forever?”
“No way.” Annan shook her head. “Although I have some authority within the Gospel, the pact’s term can only be extended to December 31, 2100.”
“That’s still over five hundred years!” Ashe retreated instinctively. “By then, the Gospel Kingdom might not even exist. Your descendants could find my grave in the Doomsday wasteland, shout ‘Ashe Heath, come forth as per the pact,’ and I’d have to crawl out of hell to continue serving the Dolan Family for centuries!”
“Impossible. No pact, no matter how powerful, can summon the dead.” Annan shook her head again. “Unless I get Harvey to perform necromancy on you, then Ashe, you could become an heirloom for the Dolan Family. Damn Igor, ruining my plans.”
“Bless Igor for saving us from a wicked woman. He delivered us from evil.”
Seeing Annan’s frustrated look, Ashe internally breathed a sigh of relief.
When Annan abruptly confessed ‘I’ll take care of you,’ although he couldn’t help but feel a bit delighted—actually, more than just a bit, but he only allowed himself to admit a little—rationality quickly returned, leaving him feeling rather uneasy.
His relationship with Annan was abnormal.
If it weren’t for Annan, he would have taken Lise and fled long ago. Even if Lise wanted him to rescue the princess in the Tower, he wouldn’t have risked it. It was Annan’s stubborn insistence on executing the plan to assassinate the princess that kept them in the underground city.
Or rather, from the very beginning, it was Annan who wanted to blaspheme the Gospel and deceive the Weaving Festival, which is why they were now like rats scurrying around the Gospel kingdom. Ashe only wanted to find a place where he could send a substitute to work, take care of Lise during the day, and venture into the Virtual Realm with the sword Princess and the Witch at night.
With “Aurora’s Sorcerer Handbook,” Ashe felt that becoming a legendary sorcerer was just a matter of time. There was no need to go on dangerous adventures; he could just bide his time.
However, he was still a slave under Annan’s domination. He couldn’t disobey any of her commands, so he had to follow her to the end. If Annan truly liked him, wouldn’t that be like falling in love with his kidnapper? That would be classic Stockholm Syndrome.
But in typical stories, it’s usually the kidnapped female protagonist who falls for the male lead. When it happens to him, it seems a bit reversed...
Thankfully, Annan is a bad woman. Thankfully, Annan is just a bad woman.
Ashe changed the subject. “By the way, I’ve already decided on my wish.”
“What is your wish?” Annan asked curiously. “To enhance your spirit substitute into an all-attributes-maxed super servant that can complete any task for you?”
“...That’s my secondary wish. If there’s any extra wish capacity, please help me with that, and also add the ability for me to freely set the appearance and gender of the substitute.” Although Ashe was tempted, he kept his promise to Lise. “My primary wish is to permanently cancel the ‘Ranking of the Unrelated.’”
“Huh?” Annan was stunned. “You want to cancel that Gospel ranking list?”
“That’s right.” Ashe nodded, already preparing a plausible reason in his mind.
However, Annan stayed silent for a moment and didn’t ask about the reason for his wish. She simply nodded. “As long as I obtain the Divine Sovereign’s Wish, I guarantee your wish will come true.”
Ashe breathed a sigh of relief; tonight’s mission was complete. He disclosed Banjeet’s situation to Annan, not only to prevent any tragedies due to such secrecy but also to use this favor to make Annan take his wish seriously—his little plan worked!
He relaxed and jokingly asked, “So, what do you plan to do after the Weaving Festival is over? You’re not going to wish to become an angel and leave reality altogether, are you?”
“My wish won’t change my abilities in any way,” Annan shook her head. “If I’m lucky enough to obtain the Divine Sovereign’s Wish and safely get through the Weaving Festival...”
She paused for a moment, then suddenly laughed. “How silly, the Weaving Festival isn’t even over yet, what’s the point of thinking about the future now... We might die in the Royal Palace in just a few days.”
“Precisely because we might die in the Royal Palace, we need to think about our future now,” Ashe said seriously. “If we do die, at least we can live out the rest of our lives in our imagination. If we don’t die, then this fantasy will serve as a source of courage, and we might even create a miracle.” ṟ
“The ‘future’ is the greatest hope; once you have a future you want to go toward, nothing can stop you, not even mountains of blades or seas of fire.” He smiled. “In that sense, thinking about the rest of our lives is actually conducting our own Weaving Festival—crafting our future and then striving to achieve it.”
Annan was taken aback. “Weaving Festival...?”
She silently stroked her earring and suddenly asked, “Do you think the Weaving Festival is a good thing?”
“Hmm?” Ashe pondered for a moment. “Honestly, the Weaving Festival is something that can guide societal trends and even affect the development of spellcasting—judging it as good or bad might be oversimplifying it, like saying the sun is a good guy or a bad guy... But if I had to say, it should be a good thing.”
“Predicting a nation’s development, technological revolutions, key talents through the ranking list—all of this ensures that the Gospel will only develop faster and better, almost never regressing or stagnating. If it wasn’t for this Weaving Festival predicting a Doomsday disaster, I’d even believe I could see the future of the Gospel reaching for the stars and the sea.”
“But what about for the Echoers?” Annan asked. “Is it really good for them to know a predestined future in advance?”
Annan walked Ashe to the door and reached out to grip the door handle but did not push it open.
Ashe waited for a moment and then asked curiously, “What’s wrong? Can’t open it?”
“Ashe, do you hate me?”
Ashe was taken aback.
“You probably do hate me,” the Purple Moth said softly to the door without turning around. “If I hadn’t captured you before the virtual realm passage, if Cleos and I hadn’t forced you, you would’ve never been caught up in the Whirlpool of the Weaving Festival. You might even have settled down in Azura by now, living a peaceful and happy life.”
“Although I’ve always said I treated you all equally, that was just self-satisfying arrogance. You’re all bound by the Pact, so we can never truly be equal in status, let alone the fact that I’ve asked you to partake in this nearly suicidal mission. Harvey is probably already planning how to retaliate against me once this is over.”
“I may have my justifications, but what have they got to do with you? A Purple Moth destined to plunge into the fire yet dragging you all along in the flames.”
“Your first reaction was ‘Is Annan trying to trick me again?’ and yes, I deserve that.”
“But.”
Annan turned to look at Ashe, the green of her eyes shimmering with Flow.
“In a few days, the first half of my life will be over,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “We might all die.”
It was then that Ashe realized she was afraid.
Or to put it more accurately, who among the Funerals wasn’t afraid except for Harvey? Igor never showed his fear and had gone through too many life-and-death adventures to be shaken; Lise completely trusted Ashe, using that trust to mask her fear; and Ashe himself...
He’d been thinking about his life after the Weaving Festival these past few days, using hope to fight fear, Lise to counter fear, and Igor to shield against fear.
Annan was different from them, the escaped convicts. Her previous adventures had always had Banjeet as a safety net, and in her work, she’d relied on the Gospel’s godlike perspective. This Blasphemy Gospel plan was the riskiest action of her life; assassinating the Princess was an all-in gamble she had never experienced before.
But she couldn’t show any fear in front of everyone else; it was her responsibility as a leader.
Only now did she shed all her disguises and reveal the vulnerability of a female boss.
“My question earlier is also my answer after weaving,” the Purple Moth looked intently at the Cult Leader. “I’ll ask you again.”
“Are you willing to weave the future with me?”
This time, it wasn’t a joke.
She was serious.
There was no way to dodge it now.
Ashe looked at her beautiful, expectant face, filled with a mix of daring and shyness, and for a moment, he was lost.
To be honest, he couldn’t think of a reason to refuse. Although Annan wasn’t as wealthy as someone like Yvaren, she was far better off than Ashe, who was prepared to sleep in a cardboard box under a bridge. Annan, living in a large apartment, was already rich enough to meet his daily needs.
Not to mention, Ashe also had Lise, who was a bit of a burden. Only Igor and Annan were willing to support them. Actually, Ashe had casually mentioned to Igor that once Lise’s life stabilized, he would find a way to make some money. He couldn’t possibly always rely on Igor.
But Annan’s promise came with no strings attached and even with after-sales service! Since he was already putting himself out there, Ashe could comfortably call his wealthy benefactor “rich lady”!
So, did he like Annan? First, Annan was a ranked individual in the Azura Beauty Ranking; and her looks and figure are not something a zero-star loser like Ashe can compare to. Secondly, he felt relaxed around her, as if they were childhood friends; there was no barrier between them.
Yes, he did like her, and married life would surely be happy.
However, however.
Ashe closed his eyes, and images of many people flashed through his mind—parents, siblings, a Bewitcher, and a redhead...
He opened his eyes and looked at her seriously. The Purple Moth saw the Flowing tenderness in his eyes and immediately understood.
“I...”
“Wait, I want to paint a portrait of you.”