Chapter 120

Weyen Kingdom, banquet hall.

A man with slightly wavy hair and a handsome appearance lifted his wine glass and drank it in one gulp.

Even while drinking, his blue eyes remained fixed on the center of the dance floor, emitting a faint melancholy.

The man was not old, looking at most twenty‑two or twenty‑three years old.

Wearing a tailored, sleek blue noble robe, an innate aura of nobility and valor radiated from him, deeply drawing the admiring gazes of many noble ladies in the banquet hall.

Unfortunately, the man seemed uninterested in those girls.

Even some bold noble ladies—shy or enthusiastic—who came to invite him to dance were politely declined with a smiling shake of the head.

It was evident that the man was well‑brought‑up.

"Prince Charles, you're drinking to drown your sorrows," a voice said beside his ear.

Just as Charles was about to raise his glass again for another gulp, he heard the words, frowned, forced down his displeasure, and turned his head toward the source.

He saw a tall, imposing young man with slightly wavy black hair, clad in a form‑fitting black tuxedo, exuding a blend of elegance and martial vigor.

His handsome, dashing looks were in no way inferior to Charles's.

Charles silently sized up the suddenly appearing stranger, privately assessing him.

When he gazed into the other's deep eyes that seemed to pierce the heart, Charles felt a sudden chill within.

At that moment of eye contact, Charles felt an illusion of being stared at by a terrifying beast, a cold sweat broke out, and his light intoxication vanished.

However, when he looked again into those deep eyes, the terrifying chill never returned, leading Charles to think he had simply drunk too much and hallucinated.

"May I ask, who are you?" Charles exhaled inwardly, his eyes showing a hint of doubt.

The man's mere bearing gave Prince Charles a sense of pressure, suggesting he possessed something beyond ordinary mortals.

Charles was familiar with the nobles and royalty of surrounding nations, yet he had never encountered this man, leaving him puzzled.

"Fulade, it's normal that the prince doesn't know me. I come from the central continent and am currently traveling," Fulade said, raising his cup.

"Ding~"

The two drank the wine; upon hearing that, a flash of envy crossed Charles's eyes.

Although he was the crown prince, Charles had no freedom at all; traveling the continent was something he never dared imagine.

"That girl is really beautiful; who is she?"

Seeing a girl in the dance floor wearing a blue, cinched, voluminous princess gown, dancing gracefully with an innocent smile, Fulade exclaimed.

The girl had golden wavy long hair and a lavish blue voluminous dress that highlighted her natural aura of nobility and purity.

Her splendid skirt was studded with countless tiny crystals that, under the surrounding lights, resembled stars in the sky, sparkling beautifully.

Inviters surrounded the girl incessantly, clearly making her the focus of every man's attention.

Charles heard that, his face turning grim, drained the freshly filled cup again, and said, "My sister, Cinderella."

"Very pretty, right?" he added with a self‑deprecating smile.

Couples instantly become siblings; who could accept that?

"Very well, if you don't mind, may I invite Her Highness the Princess to dance?"

He said that, yet his body honestly rose to his feet.

Seeing this, Charles could only nod in agreement.

Cinderella, having just finished a piece, declined the next suitor and intended to rest.

During this time she was very happy, feeling she was the happiest girl under the heavens.

Because the father she thought dead had become the king of Weyen Kingdom and reappeared before her.

Such a fantastical experience made Cinderella feel as if she were in a dream.

Although she lost a lover, she gained her father and brother; Cinderella felt content.

"Thank the God of Blood Flame for his protection," Cinderella silently prayed again.

"Beautiful lady, may I have the honor of asking you to dance?"

A pleasant, magnetic voice sounded beside her, causing the praying Cinderella to subconsciously furrow her brow.

Her eyes, sparkling like starlight, looked displeased at the one who interrupted her prayer.

Just one glance left her stunned, unable to believe.

Her rosy lips trembled lightly, and inside she shouted wildly, "It seems, it seems."

At Cinderella's moment of shock, her snow‑white hand involuntarily reached out, following the other toward the dance floor.

When her body again moved with the melodious music, Cinderella finally regained her senses; her clear, star‑like eyes, with a hint of hopeful light, looked at the man embracing her slender waist and said, trembling slightly:

"Y‑you are—"

Fulade smiled faintly, "Don't speak, just dance first."

Hearing the somewhat domineering words, Cinderella instead laughed happily.

She stared unblinking at Fulade, as if something were on her face, her eyes glittering, and never moved them thereafter.

This made the surrounding nobles, who had been watching Cinderella's every move, turn sullen.

In the distance, Prince Charles, seeing Cinderella's behavior, smiled briskly, as if suddenly relieved, drained his cup, and walked toward the hall's exit.

"My, my deity, I—I'm too excited."

In the night garden, Cinderella clasped her small hands tightly, her expression very excited.

"Shh, remember, call me Fulade, and don't let anyone hear," he raised a finger, whispered softly, signaling Cinderella to be careful.

Regarding his deity's request, Cinderella, as his most fervent follower, naturally would not refuse.

"Fu— Fulade~~" the voice trembled with slight hesitation.

Yet it was clear that the excited, happy smile on Cinderella's face showed she was indeed very thrilled.

"Hmm~ looks like you're doing well," Fulade said with a smile.

"It's all because of the great deity—you, bless me."

Seeing Fulade's sideways glance, Cinderella hurriedly changed her words, and the excitement in her heart slowly faded, giving way to nervousness.

"F—Fulade, how did you come here?" Cinderella lightly bit her red lips and asked gently.

"Isn't that a question for you?" he flicked his eyes and said coolly.

"Me~!?" Cinderella lifted her slender, fair hand, pointing at herself with a stunned expression.

"I remember your father was a merchant—how could he suddenly become king, and why does the queen say you are her daughter!?"

Facing the great deity's inquiry.

Cinderella did not conceal anything; she told Fulade everything she knew, in full detail.

It was only then that Cinderella vaguely guessed that the great deity had likely come for this reason.

For a moment, her mood became uneasy again—was there a problem? "You mean your father's so‑called merchant status was a lie, and you are actually the king's illegitimate daughter, and the queen covered it up for fear of damaging the king's reputation?"

"Hmm~, that's what my father told me."

"If that's the case, why didn't he take you away before, and only now acknowledge you!" Fulade said bluntly, striking at the core of the issue.

Hearing this, Cinderella planted her feet, her face turning pale, suddenly feeling an inexplicable chill: "Yes, why!??"

She had never considered this question; yearning for family, she instinctively avoided it.

Seeing Cinderella's ashen face, Fulade said, "Isn't there a simplest method your father had? Hand it over~"

Amid Cinderella's puzzled gaze, Fulade sliced Cinderella's finger and performed the blood sorcery: Bloodline Pursuit.

The fresh blood spilling from Cinderella's finger suddenly flared, turning into a crimson arrow that pointed far into the palace.

That direction was exactly where the king stood! Clearly, Cinderella is King Wayne's daughter.

How could this be? Where does the problem lie!? PS: I had family matters today and no time to write, so I only managed to squeeze out a chapter; apologies to everyone.

Also, regarding this book, it is about to step into the collision‑exchange stage between worlds, commonly known as Plane Invasion; I wonder whether the esteemed godfathers would like to see this style.

You can leave me a message; if you don't like it, I will try to reduce such content.

(End of chapter)