150: A foolish emperor

Although the cold wind on the palace square had been gradually dispersed by the microwave thermal energy projected by the Faleim Engineering Vessels, the air was still filled with a damp, cold, and scorched scent of embers.

Beside the tarmac that had just been cleared, Amira Radiance retracted the three pairs of light wings behind her and walked quickly toward the man standing on the edge of the ruins, whose figure appeared somewhat hunched.

That was her eldest brother, the First Prince of the Empire, Mika Radiance.

After only a few months apart, the once high-spirited crown prince seemed to have aged decades. His signature golden hair had lost its luster, turning somewhat gray, and the three pairs of wings symbolizing imperial dignity also appeared dim and lifeless.

“Amira...”

When Mika saw his sister standing before him intact in her white-gold battle armor, a glimmer of life finally emerged in his bloodshot eyes. He opened his arms, and the siblings embraced tightly amidst the ruins of the palace.

“Thank the True God, you’re still alive.” Mika’s voice was hoarse, carrying an irrepressible excitement. “When I heard from Filura that you were still alive, I could hardly believe my ears.”

“I’m so glad to see you again, brother,” Amira said softly. Feeling her brother’s thin but still warm embrace, the hardships of the journey turned into tears in the corners of her eyes at this moment.

The two separated and stood upon the ruins, beginning a long and heavy exchange.

Amira spoke of her survival in Orion, the incredible prosperity and order she had seen in Faleimland, how advanced and powerful the black giant ship named “redemption” was, and the guidance of the mysterious and great guide of the Faleim People.

“They are very strong, brother, so strong that we cannot comprehend them.” Amira looked at the massive Engineering Vessels in the sky, her tone complex. “Everything we were proud of is like fragile glass before them.”

Mika listened quietly, his eyes revealing deep shock and powerlessness.

Subsequently, he also began to recount the nightmares that had occurred on the home planet over these past few months.

When the news of the Star Navy’s defeat at the front lines arrived, Archbishop Losanda began to activate the schemes he had laid within the Empire for decades.

He first secretly murdered Pope Gregory, then issued a series of ecclesiastical decrees in the name of the Pope and the twelve Archbishops, taking control of the Holy See's most important military force—the Holy Army.

He then won over numerous sector governors, gradually eroding the imperial government's control over local regions. While the imperial family was exhausted by his constant pressure, he quietly completed the ritual to summon a god.

And then came that unprecedented “God War.”

“That feeling... it was as if we were ants, and above our heads, giants were conducting a war we couldn't interfere with,” Mika said bitterly. “The god descended, and then the god was repelled. Our faith, our pride, everything shattered at 그 moment.”

The two fell silent for a moment, the air filled with the sighs of survivors.

“This is Major General Trier.” Amira stepped aside, introducing the Faleim officer who had been quietly observing from a distance to Mika. “He is the head of the Faleim Observation Group and one of the leaders of this rescue operation.”

Mika straightened his somewhat damaged imperial formal attire, forced himself to rally his spirits, and saluted Trier with the most solemn etiquette.

“General Trier, on behalf of the Angel imperial family and all surviving citizens, I thank you for your assistance.” Mika’s tone was sincere and humble. “Without you, we would likely have frozen to death on this planet.”

Trier nodded slightly, his cold face uncharacteristically softening, no longer as aggressive as he had been on the warship.

After all, facing a crown prince who had just experienced a civilizational catastrophe, even the arrogant Faleim People would maintain basic politeness.

“Prince Mika, the Angel Empire has been listed as a partner by the Faleim Central Council.” Trier’s voice came through the translator. “Helping a partner restore order aligns with the interests of the Faleim Scientific Conglomerate.”

Trier did not engage in much small talk and cut straight to the point, detailing the Faleim Civilization's subsequent aid plan to Mika.

“The first phase of the environmental reshaping project is nearing completion; atmospheric temperatures will return to normal levels within three days. Next, our engineering fleet will begin repairing your orbital transportation network and ground-based basic energy facilities.”

“Regarding food and medical supplies,” Trier pointed to the sky, “our transport ships are currently unloading cargo, enough to sustain the global population for three months. During this time, we will assist you in establishing temporary synthetic food factories.”

“Of course, in exchange,” Trier’s eyes narrowed slightly, “we need to establish an embassy and a permanent scientific observation station on Cradle Star, and we need you to open all data regarding psionic history in the Royal Archives.”

Mika did not hesitate and immediately nodded in agreement.

“That is only natural, General,” Mika said. “Amidst these ruins, we have no right to refuse, not to mention this is a life-saving debt. I will report this to my Father Emperor immediately and implement all the requirements you’ve proposed.”

When mentioning the words “Father Emperor,” Mika’s eyes visibly dimmed, flashing with an unspeakable pain.

Amira keenly captured this. She asked urgently, “By the way, where is Father? After Losanda fell, Father should have regained his freedom, right? How is he now?”

Mika opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately just sighed.

“He... he is in the Inner Palace.” Mika avoided Amira’s gaze. “The Inner Palace has an independent psionic shield and was relatively well-preserved during the previous impacts, but... Amira, you must be mentally prepared.”

Amira’s heart sank abruptly, an ominous premonition welling up in her mind.

“Take me to see him.”

...Passing through the devastated outer courts, the three arrived at the Inner Palace area deep within the palace.

As Mika had said, there was indeed not much physical damage here. The white corridors were still tidy, the golden reliefs still shone, and even the Psionic Flowers in the garden were blooming quietly under the protection of the constant-temperature force field.

But this intact area was permeated with a suffocating deathly silence.

There was no sound of servants moving, no sound of officials reporting, not even the chirping of birds; only the empty footsteps of the three echoed in the long gallery.

“Ever since the god's incarnation was defeated and Losanda was reduced to ash, Father has been like this.” Mika spoke in a low voice as he led the way. “For these three months, I have been acting as regent for all administrative affairs of the home planet. Father... he hasn’t seen anyone.”

Under the lead of a few remaining palace guards, they came before a massive carved golden door.

The guards pushed open the door, and a rich scent of soothing incense wafted toward them.

The light inside the bedchamber was dim, with heavy curtains tightly drawn, and only a few Psionic Ever-burning Lamps emitted a faint glow.

On that exaggeratedly wide bed sat a figure wearing a bathrobe.

“Father!”

Amira could no longer control her emotions; she rushed in and knelt by the bedside.

However, there was no response.

The Emperor of the Angel Empire, Huiguang XII, was currently sitting there quietly, holding an exquisite mechanical doll in his hands—it was Amira’s childhood toy.

His eyes were open, but those golden pupils that were once filled with wisdom and majesty were now clouded and vacant.

His gaze lacked focus, as if looking through Amira at some point in the void.

A trace of saliva hung from the corner of his mouth, and he occasionally let out one or two meaningless “hehe” giggles, his fingers mechanically fiddling with the doll like an infant whose intelligence had not yet developed.

“Father... it’s Amira... I’m back...”

Amira took her father’s hand; it was cold and limp, allowing her to hold it without any reciprocal grip.

“What... what is going on?!”

Amira turned her head sharply, looking at Mika with a mix of shock and fury, her voice very piercing. “Why has Father become like this? What did Losanda do to him?”

Trier stood at the doorway and did not approach. The scanner on his terminal was performing a rapid biological scan of the Emperor, and soon his brow also furrowed slightly.

Mika closed his eyes in pain, leaning against the doorframe as if he had lost all his strength.

“We invited one of the Empire's surviving Psionic Masters to examine him.” Mika’s voice was full of powerlessness. “The master said... Father’s brain is empty.”

“It’s not just the aftereffects of the contract with the god.” Mika pointed to his own head. “What was more fatal was Losanda.”

“To make Father behave and have him sign those edicts, that beast Losanda used forbidden Psionic Induction on him.”

“And it was excessive, continuous induction.”

“He forcibly rewrote Father’s cognition, distorted his logic, and to suppress Father’s self-awareness, Losanda even crudely severed the neural circuits in Father’s brain responsible for rational thought.”

“The moment the contract was released and the divine power faded...” Mika choked up, “the false pillars imposed on his consciousness collapsed, and Father’s mental world shattered completely along with them.”

“His soul has shattered into countless pieces that can never be put back together.”

“The master said his cerebral cortex suffered irreversible Psionic Ablation. Now, his intelligence level is not even that of a three-year-old child.”

“That he can still live, that his heart still beats, is in itself a... cruel miracle.”

Hearing these words, Amira felt the world spinning.

She looked at the father who had once exhausted himself for the Empire and wanted to save the country through reforms, and looked at the father who had now become a demented man.

The towering figure who had patted her shoulder before her departure and told her “You are the pride of the Empire” had completely collapsed.

“Losanda... I will tear you into ten thousand pieces... even if you are already dead... I will curse your soul to suffer eternal torment in hell!”

Amira let out a heart-wrenching cry.

She threw herself onto the Emperor’s knees, weeping loudly like a helpless little girl.

The crying echoed in the empty bedchamber, desolate and despairing.

Trier watched this scene quietly. As a Faleim person, it was difficult for him to empathize with this kind of pain of parting, but from the perspective of a civilizational observer, he heard in this crying the echo of the complete end of an old era.

The Emperor was mad, the Pope was dead, and the core of the Empire was rotten.

“It seems,” Trier silently assessed in his heart, “the power vacuum in the Angel Empire is even larger than we anticipated. Although this First Prince seems relatively normal, after undergoing such a blow, his willpower will likely struggle to support a vast empire.”

“This is precisely the situation the guide expected.”

He glanced at the still-weeping Amira and then at the despondent Mika.

“A puppet regime that must rely on the strong to survive is being born amidst these tears.”

Trier did not step forward to comfort them; he simply withdrew from the bedchamber silently, leaving the final private space for the unfortunate siblings.

He had more important things to do—report to the guide.

Inside the bedchamber, Huiguang XII seemed to be disturbed by the crying. He frowned slightly, then handed the doll in his hand to Amira, an innocent and foolish smile appearing on his face.

“For... for you to play...”

This scene became the final straw that broke Amira; her crying grew even more shrill, lingering in this cold palace for a long time.