Chapter 413: Serving Me (8K Bonus Chapter 211 212)

“I plan to summon a batch of spirits to temporarily meet Ellda’s labor demands.”

Before the few remaining high-ranking officials of Ellda, the wise lord Herbert proposed his grand vision—we need more spirits!

“Have the spirits assist the gnomish architects in building more temporary outposts.”

Using powerful spirits as laborers is naturally a temporary, superficial solution—and excessively lavish.

Ellda requires constant development; the number of spirits is limited, and they cannot devote all their energy to this task.

Building Ellda Village, Ellda City-State, or even the future Ellda Kingdom cannot rely solely on spirits.

For now, it is merely a transitional phase; eventually, we must attract genuine residents.

But even so, if we can satisfy demand in the short term and survive the initial, most difficult step, it is already enough.

“What do you think?”

After hearing Herbert’s explanation, the three present exchanged glances and fell silent.

“…”

The mushroom merchant squinted, silently sizing up Herbert, privately speculating.

Summon spirits?

Strictly speaking, paladins do possess some summoning ability.

But typically, spirits are not within the paladins’ summoning range.

Those glorious, righteous beings excel at summoning celestial creatures like pegasi; only the most righteous souls might respond to their call.

This is not a power paladins should possess.

Priests are the ones who can receive power from spirits or command them—yet this power does not originate from themselves, but from the deities they serve.

Through divine favor, priests can falsely wield authority over spirits, making them serve their will.

Is this cheating? Certainly.

With divine favor and gifts, priests can easily summon spirits of their own rank as enforcers.

If willing to pay a price (surrendering their soul after death, lending their body to a spirit, etc.), even superior-tier powerful spirits can be summoned!

Miser did not doubt Herbert possessed a unique ability to summon spirits.

A strong warrior like Herbert would never speak without cause; if he said it, he had confidence and backing.

Perhaps he bore a special blessing, or perhaps he was born with an extraordinary ability.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was how far he could truly go.

She still harbored doubts about how many spirits Herbert could summon.

Under normal circumstances, a spell summoning otherworldly beings could summon at most ten or so—only after paying a heavy cost.

Most often, only one or two could be summoned.

She exaggerated for him in her mind: he was gifted, with several times the mental strength of others… twenty!

Even more extravagantly, thirty!

But even if he summoned thirty spirits, what use were these short-lived entities?

Summoned spirits would eventually return to the divine realm; they could not remain here permanently.

Could one really summon them every single time construction was needed?

That would be far too exhausting.

That made no sense.

Miser did not believe Herbert was such a foolish fool.

And since it made no sense, there must be another explanation.

After pondering for a while, her gaze returned to him.

“Hmm, he must have other cards up his sleeve.”

In fact, Miser was not the only one thinking this; Joanna, beside her, also furrowed her brow and nodded silently.

Joanna had initially doubted Herbert’s words.

She was a priest, a priest favored by the gods; if even she could not summon large numbers of spirits to labor for her, she did not believe a paladin like Herbert could possibly do so.

Rather, the fact that Herbert could permanently command a legendary centaur spirit was already baffling to her.

After much thought, she concluded the situation must be orchestrated by the deity cooperating behind Herbert with her own goddess.

“…”

Yet before questioning further, Joanna recalled Herbert’s previous actions—and the terrifying dragon he had summoned…

She had never seen an epic dragon before, but according to records she had studied, epic dragons certainly did not possess such exaggerated size.

Could it possibly be a saint-level dragon?

After much internal struggle, she ultimately decided it was probably not that extreme.

Perhaps it was merely an unusually large, unique individual?

Maybe even a legendary anomaly!

In any case, to show respect for Herbert, Joanna wisely stayed silent.

She felt it best not to speak up.

After all, the goddess had said: timely silence is more precious than gold!

The goddess had also said: trusting others is a praiseworthy virtue!

The goddess had also said… when facing an insurmountable situation, never act rashly.

Hmm… cough.

This wasn’t cowardice—just obedience to the goddess’s teachings.

Yes, that was it!

Miser and Joanna, for various reasons, chose silence; their eyes turned to the only other person who might speak.

Sophie, step forward!

Stop being silent; you may speak now.

It’s time for you to speak.

It’s your turn to shine!

Yet under the gaze of all, Sophie lowered her head, lips pressed tight, lost in thought.

“…”

Herbert paid no mind to the other two’s evasion; he had never expected them to offer profound insights.

He raised an eyebrow, gazing at the silent centaur spirit, and asked softly: “Sophie, what are you thinking?”

Herbert asked, but the centaur spirit remained silent, lips clenched tighter.

Hm?

Herbert, observing her strange behavior, frowned slightly, hands behind his back, speaking calmly: “Raise your head. Answer my question.”

His words were plain, his tone not harsh.

Yet this gentle whisper caused Miser and Joanna to shudder simultaneously, sensing something was wrong.

!!!

This was not a request—it was an order.

“…”

Upon hearing the order, the centaur spirit stiffened, realizing Herbert was displeased.

Yet even so, she remained silent for a long while before slowly lifting her head to face Herbert.

“My Lord, I…”

She began to explain, then paused, glancing at the two onlookers beside her.

“Forgive me, Your Graces—could you temporarily leave us alone?”

The two immediately seized the opportunity, nodding with perfect tact.

“Hmm.”

“Of course.”

They turned and departed at once, leaving space for Herbert and Sophie.

Their footsteps even carried a hint of relief.

For some reason, Herbert felt different this time.

He seemed much stronger, his pressure far greater than before.

To Miser, Herbert had merely revealed more of his true power, no longer pretending to be merely a high-rank paladin.

Though still playing the “weakling” role, he was no longer overacting.

To Joanna, Herbert had advanced dramatically—from high-rank to legendary.

Unlike Miser, who imagined everything in her head, Joanna knew Herbert’s true age, his identity, and his history.

Advancing to legendary at this age, in such a short time… it was insane.

Could an ordinary prodigy achieve this?

Could ordinary fortune achieve this?

Impossible!

There had been legendary figures in this world younger than Herbert—even younger.

Some divinely blessed children possessed the strength to tear apart beasts at birth.

But all those people exhibited astonishing talent from the moment they were born.

And to reverse one’s fate halfway and reach the level you now stand, there is only one possibility in this world.

Divine Grace.

Only the favor of the gods can make such a miracle occur.

Herbert, at this age and within such a short time, ascended from an ordinary mortal with no power whatsoever to legend—his very existence is a divine wonder!

One could say Herbert is the embodiment of the immense power behind his god.

This world has always been unfair.

Fate’s gifts are never rational.

Many cults study fate, especially after the downfall of the Goddess of Fate and the birth of the Goddess of Fortune—these cults never fully submitted to the new goddess.

Most chose to break away from the Church of Fate and became secretive cult organizations.

Among these cults, one called “All Is Fated” has always held this belief—“Every being’s fate is set from the very beginning; they cannot change it themselves.”

They believe all things have their destined course.

They believe a being’s fate is decided the instant its soul breaks free from the chaos sea’s constraints—all “futures” have already become fixed facts.

And to alter one’s preordained fate, there is only one method—the gods.

They believe the gods are the freest beings in this world!

They believe the deities are variables outside the river of fate.

Whether watched by a god, interfered with by a god, or even favored by a god… no matter the method or process, as long as a mortal’s fate becomes entangled with the uncertainty of divinity, it can be influenced and changed.

Yes, this cult that believes all is fated loves nothing more than defying heaven and rewriting fate.

But perhaps because their brains are a bit off, their methods of altering fate are… unusual.

They still cling to the ancient worship of the Goddess of Fate and refuse to convert to any other faith.

They always seek shortcuts to place themselves in the gods’ sight.

For this reason, this cult frequently performs bizarre acts that even the gods find perplexing.

For example, slaughtering all the faithful of a city-state just to provoke the anger of their worshipped deity.

Or loudly declaring they will offer vast wealth to the Goddess of Wealth… then, after the church accepts it, teaming up with dragon bandits to steal it back, then offering it again, then stealing it again.

For instance, there was a very weighty figure.

Once, a member of “All Is Fated” did not rush like others; instead, he spent years disguising himself as a famous courtesan.

Like a devout follower of the God of Love, he spent his days mingling in noble ballrooms, bedding nobles of every age and rank…

He did this solely to catch the attention of the Church of Love and Pleasure and become one of them.

He sought to ride the God of Love’s coattails and thereby change his fate.

But his every move and hidden intentions had long been exposed beneath the goddess’s gaze.

The god sees all. The god was puzzled. The god fell silent.

In the end, the goddess still rejected him, denying his application to join.

By the way, the pronoun was not wrong.

Not “she”—but “he.”

That massive, three-meter-tall, half-ton-strong warrior with bear bloodline used a special technique from the shadow realms to alter his appearance.

He transformed into a petite, fifteen-centimeter-tall, golden-haired, twin-tailed, cat-eared girl who reverted to his original form after midnight…

No one understood what he was thinking.

No one knew what he was after…

He could’ve just gone through the motions, done the bare minimum—but he insisted on personally taking the role, embodying every detail.

Probably, he awakened some inner femininity.

Yet, in a certain sense, he succeeded.

Because the Goddess of Love finally couldn’t hold back—she descended in avatar to ask him: Why did you choose the Church of Love over others, like the Church of War?

With your superior innate conditions, you could have easily risen to prominence in those churches and caught a god’s attention.

Why go far when the near is so much easier?

No, what the hell are you even after?

The goddess was baffled.

His answer left the Goddess of Love silent.

He said:

“I just… wanted to be loved, meow.”

The goddess said:

“Talk like a normal person, you idiot.”

The Goddess of Love, rarely, swore—but it was understandable.

After all, not everyone can accept a bearded, three-meter-tall brute speaking in a squeaky, girly voice like that.

Even the goddess, seasoned as she was, couldn’t handle it… she’d never seen anything like it.

In the end, this abstract, otherworldly male crossdresser successfully altered his fate and ascended to legend the following year.

But not long after changing his fate, he died of an illness caused by the side effects of his transformation technique.

And he died younger than his original prophecy predicted… no one knows if this was shedding one fate only to inherit another.

In Joanna’s eyes, Herbert was exactly such a lucky one.

Influenced by his god, he changed his own fate.

Although Joanna sensed no divine aura on Herbert—he concealed it extremely well.

But she believed Herbert was deeply favored by a god!

Without doubt, he was another divine favorite.

Coincidentally, Joanna’s thoughts weren’t entirely wrong.

One could say her reasoning was entirely flawed, yet her conclusion was remarkably close.

Herbert did indeed have divine favor, and his fate change was tied to a god… hey, what a coincidence.

Joanna harbored no ill will toward Herbert; she felt only envy for his fortune.

Jealous.

“When will I ever become a divine favorite? Sigh, never mind.”

But whenever she thought of her own goddess’s nature, she couldn’t help sighing inwardly.

Her goddess was perfect in every way—except her personality was utterly erratic, fond of wandering, and bestowing grace capriciously.

Moreover, due to Hekaiasi’s own limited power, she could spare little divine energy, and thus granted even fewer divine favors.

“But if my goddess won’t do it… what about that lady?”

After leaving the Ice Temple, Joanna kept pondering this in secret.

She, and many in the Ice Cult, didn’t consider this betrayal of their own goddess.

We haven’t switched allegiance—we’re just returning to our ancestral root.

After all, our goddess is merely that lady’s plaything anyway—no real difference… cough.

“Alright, they’re gone. Now you can speak.”

After Mise and the other two departed, the atmosphere in the chamber subtly shifted.

Herbert smiled, his demeanor no longer stern but relaxed, as before.

He sat casually on the ice chair, patted his thigh, and waved at Sophia: “What are you staring at over there? Come here quickly.”

When others were present, he, as a superior, had to maintain his authority.

No matter the reason Sophia disobeyed his command, he had to make a statement.

But when no one else was around, it was a private talk with his trusted confidant—no need for pretense.

In public: stern.

Among allies: gentle.

Balancing firmness and softness—that is the art of leadership.

“… ”

Sophia hesitated, but under Herbert’s gaze, she obediently nodded.

She stepped forward, knelt on her horse legs, and prepared to prostrate herself before Herbert.

“My Lord…”

But halfway down, Herbert caught her, guiding her arms to rest crossed on his thighs, then letting her chin sink onto her arms as a pillow.

Sophia: ??

The centaur lady didn’t understand what was happening, but dared not struggle—she merely looked up, bewildered, at Herbert.

What is this?

“My Lord? What are you doing?”

Herbert raised an eyebrow and smiled, placing his hand on her head, gently rubbing her ears: “What? Uncomfortable?”

Previously, Sophia had been semi-transparent to Herbert—only in spirit form could he fully touch her without passing through her body.

But after ascending to legend, Herbert no longer faced this problem; even in physical form, he could now easily grasp her like this.

He had intended for Sophia to rest her head on his lap—give her a proper knee pillow.

But the centaur’s body made that impractical—only if she lay completely flat could he achieve it.

He could only settle for having her kneel before him, assuming this posture.

Comfortable?

Sophie blinked, feeling the gentle palm on her skin, bit her lips, and admitted honestly, “Very comfortable.”

Sophie nodded obediently, whispering, “It is comfortable, but… why?”

“Why? Hmph, I simply wanted to do this.”

Herbert shook his head slightly, offering no further explanation, and gently stroked the smooth hair of the centaur lady as he asked softly, “Are you feeling uneasy?”

After Herbert summoned the spirit, Sophie’s every reaction was caught in his eyes.

She showed a fleeting moment of joy, but it vanished quickly, leaving behind more confusion and unease.

What was she afraid of?

“What are you afraid of?”

Herbert soothed the centaur and asked softly, “Sophie, are you worried I’ll replace you?”

Under normal circumstances, after Herbert summoned other spirits, all spirits would inevitably be ranked.

As the sole spirit previously bound to Elde, Sophie naturally felt threatened, fearing her position might be supplanted.

That’s only natural, understandable.

Herbert wouldn’t feel angry over such a thing.

“If that’s the case, you have no reason to worry about it.”

“I won’t change how I treat you, and no one will replace you.”

“You are you, and in my heart, you will never change.”

As his first follower, Herbert held unmistakable favoritism toward Sophie.

Upon hearing this, Sophie paused, then hurriedly shook her head and explained, “No, that’s not it—I’m not worried about that.”

“My Lord, no matter how you decide or treat me, my loyalty to you will never change.”

She fixed her gaze firmly on Herbert’s eyes and said solemnly:

“No matter what task you assign me, even if the end is sacrifice, I will not hesitate.”

She proved her loyalty without hesitation.

Without falsehood.

After a brief pause, Herbert shook his head, pinched her cheeks between his fingers, and tugged them outward, grumbling, “What are you talking about? How could I ever do that?”

“Relax—I wouldn’t dream of sacrificing you.”

Am I really that kind of person?

Even if you wanted to go, I wouldn’t let you leave, would I?

After messing up Sophie’s cheeks, Herbert didn’t let go, still cradling her face as he asked, “If it’s not fear of me abandoning you, then what’s really troubling you?”

What’s the reason?

“Could it be you’re afraid of meeting old friends?” His casual remark unexpectedly made Sophie’s body stiffen again.

“Huh? Are you worried about that?”

“...Yes.” Sophie nodded silently.

“Why?”

Herbert didn’t understand and asked:

“Aren’t they all former comrades? Why be uneasy? Did you have enemies in your past? There’s… oh!”

Mid-sentence, he suddenly realized where Sophie’s unease came from.

It wasn’t that she remembered past enemies—it was because she… remembered nothing at all.

She had forgotten her past.

She forgot everything, remembered nothing.

The centaur lady was now a blank slate; all ties to her past had been severed.

The only person she could cling to was himself.

Sophie spoke as he had expected: “They may indeed have been people I once knew, but I remember nothing.”

“I can’t help you with this, can’t share your burdens.”

Her mood sank; she felt shame for her own inadequacy.

Seeing her like this, Herbert’s lips curled into a strange smile.

“Hmph.”

He looked at Sophie and asked with amusement, “Have you forgotten something important?”

“Huh?”

“Yes, you’ve forgotten—that’s undeniable. But… do you truly think they remember everything perfectly?”

!!?

Herbert’s smiling question left Sophie stunned; she asked blankly, “What? Do you mean…”

Herbert nodded, smiling, “After all you’ve been through, do you really believe their memories are intact?”

“No. Not just you—everyone forgets. Even I do.”

Memory is the easiest thing to romanticize and blur.

People excel at remembering the good, forgetting the suffering they once endured.

Many say that after a breakup, the first thing forgotten are the flaws, then the figure slowly becomes a distant moonlight… until they meet again and it shatters completely.

But Herbert was different from most.

He thought himself petty—he couldn’t remember the good, only the wrongs others had done him.

His specialty was holding grudges.

“When everyone else has forgotten, do you still think this matters?”

“...No.”

Sophie now felt dazed, as if her earlier worries and unease had been childish, meaningless.

Right—what was I even doing?

She shyly bit her lip, feeling warmth on her cheeks—even though as a spirit, she shouldn’t feel such things.

“Good.”

Herbert smiled and patted her head, then asked, “Besides, isn’t forgetting something you’ve done before?”

“In the Spirit Pool, you drank the Wine of Forgetting, bid farewell to your past self, shed old memories, and gained rebirth.”

“And aren’t you the same now?”

The way spirits were reborn in the Divine Realm was to drink the Wine of Forgetting, sever ties to the past, and begin a new life.

“You’ve merely skipped the step of drinking the Wine of Forgetting—otherwise, there’s no real difference.”

“That’s the truth.”

“Now, you needn’t fear anything. You can hold your head high, stand tall.”

He looked tenderly at the stunned Sophie and whispered, “By my side, you’ve been reborn.”

The boy gazed calmly at the spirit kneeling before him and said gently, “Because I am the one who gave you rebirth.”

He declared, with tender yet commanding certainty: “Now, you need only remember me—nothing else matters.”

“Since you have no past, I will become your past.”

“Every moment by my side is a moment you must remember, the source of your clarity.”

“If you still feel uneasy, then remember your mission.”

“Sophie, do you know what mission you carry now?”

…Mission?

Sophie snapped out of her daze, didn’t answer, but gazed deeply at the boy before her.

On Herbert, she felt a powerful pull.

It made her want to kneel, to surrender everything to him.

“My Lord, please guide this lost lamb,” she asked devoutly.

She wanted an answer.

She wanted a purpose for her rebirth.

At that moment, Herbert’s smile faded; his voice turned firm: “Your mission is simple—me.”

“Serve me, obey me, protect me.”

“If you want only one answer, your only duty is to serve me.”

He placed his palm on the centaur’s head and whispered, “You needn’t think of anything else.”

“Don’t worry. Don’t fear. Just fulfill your mission.”

“Everything else—don’t concern yourself. I’ll handle it.”

Herbert didn’t need others to make such a grand sacrifice for him.

Such love was too heavy.

Too burdensome.

Rather than die for him, Herbert preferred they live for him.

To live—that was the best tribute to him.

Herbert knew his actions now were, in effect, chaining Sophie—or saddling her.

He made himself her master, the one who constrained and controlled her.

This was certainly not the best way to comfort, but for lost lambs, it was exactly what they needed most.

Give them a reason to no longer be lost.

“Mm! I understand!”

Indeed, after sorting through it all and fully comprehending her mission, Sophia regained her spirited state.

She flicked her single tail braid behind her and exclaimed excitedly: “My Lord! I understand it all! I no longer need to trouble myself over those forgotten pasts.”

“You have granted me new life—you are my everything.”

“I will devote everything to serving you! To make you feel comfortable…”

Herbert initially nodded with a smile, thinking her teachable.

But as he listened further, he suddenly felt something was off; he raised an eyebrow and interrupted: “Wait, are you sure you understand?”

Comfortable?

Is that right?

Listen to yourself—does that sound serious!!?

I’m a serious person!

Sophia truly saw nothing wrong with what she said; she blinked and asked earnestly: “Hm? My Lord, is there something wrong with what I said?”

“Uh…”

Herbert looked at her earnest, innocent expression and his mouth twitched slightly; he corrected himself: “Ahem, no, it seems there’s nothing wrong.”

Hmm.

Sophia is right!

Yes, this is exactly the kind of service I want!

(End of Chapter)