Chapter 208: A Confession Without Words

"Let me just die already."

Before his eyes was chaos—too many visitors at once had turned the small parlor into a mess.

Li En's cottage was simply too small; when a dozen knights burst in, even a larger courtyard wouldn't suffice.

"Uh, we're here to confirm the news about the second princess—the little princess's status."

The city lord's visit was due to the message Li En sent yesterday.

In a sense, he was also one of the parties involved in the events of that time, and he had strong interest in more related intelligence.

"Master Li En, your evaluation is complete—overwhelmingly positive. Several Grand Masters are willing to take you on as an apprentice."

This was the news Li En had long awaited, but now he could not bring himself to rejoice.

"Uh, I'm here representing my family to discuss trade—the second shipment and the opening of that underground passage." Larry still wore a stunned expression, utterly unable to understand his senior's strange quirks.

Does he like hard things? Then, if I turned into a crystal spider, would he like that?

After Li En made his bizarre public declaration, too many eyes turned toward him—curious, astonished.

I've seen people who like humans, horses, beasts—but never anyone who likes iron.

Li En was numb. Due to the sudden incident, the snake had said it would let him off this time.

This wasn't the peak of the snake's many pranks, but it was certainly enough to become his lifetime's black history.

Each sudden visitor had a plausible excuse, yet Li En couldn't shake the feeling he'd been manipulated.

At this moment, their gazes toward the "woman" beside Li En were all strangely nuanced.

"Link. Please link."

Ophelia was still saying things easily misunderstood, even moving closer on her own.

Her crystal-formed pupils actually showed signs of longing.

Li En noticed—was she even more sluggish than before?

". h! I understand! Soul Loss Syndrome! Master Li En intends to cure her of Soul Loss Syndrome."

Victoria, who had been silently thinking, suddenly uttered an unfamiliar term.

Her gaze toward Li En grew more complex. After a moment's consideration, she spoke out anyway.

"Master Li En, the cost of this will be extremely high."

"What's going on?!"

At this moment, Saliman stepped forward—her demeanor utterly unlike her usual timid self.

Her eyes blazed like lightning, her eyebrows arched sharply, even her serpent tail stiffened in anger; her aura and speech became far more dominant.

"I—" Li En wanted to say something, to find some excuse.

"Shut up. Victoria, tell me—what is Soul Loss Syndrome?" At this moment, Saliman acted like the mistress of the house—well, she was, after all, the original owner.

She looked at Victoria. Unlike the others, she didn't believe Li En had suddenly taken a fancy to Ophelia—they'd barely exchanged words, and Li En's eyes had never once drifted toward Ophelia.

If she'd lost to the Purple Rose, Saliman could understand. But to lose to a pile of rusty iron?

She was furious—her eyes glowed, one gold, one red.

Her magic and spiritual energy began to subtly spiral out of control; pale spiritual lightning flickered constantly through her hair, and her feet hovered slightly off the ground.

Another Saliman? After witnessing Li En's declaration to someone else, she had fainted!

This "Saliman" had no time to care for her useless other self—she sensed something was wrong with her current state.

She had long confirmed Li En was a normal man—but what made her angrier was that this "normal tendency" had been confirmed by her auntie!!

Unlike the other dazed Saliman, she had seen everything clearly! That other Saliman was stupid enough to be delighted that the Purple Rose and Li En got along so well—her last remaining relative and her boyfriend getting close?!

Sometimes, this "Saliman" truly wanted to grab the other Saliman by the neck and scream: Are you a total idiot? Or do you have some weird fetish?!

"Uh, Ophelia's condition is dire—the Creator race and Machine race are always paired one-to-one."

After Kuku left, Victoria had been Ophelia's caretaker and researcher.

Aside from that snake, she was the one who understood Ophelia's current state best—but Ophelia's continuous decline was nearly incurable.

The Creator race is powerful—they can almost create an entire intelligent race from nothing. But they are still not creators, not even gods can achieve "soul creation ex nihilo."

Where do souls come from? Where do they go? Are the souls they manufacture truly complete?

The answer is subtle—the Creator race is far too distant from true creators; the Machine race's souls are never whole, but artificial constructs similar to spirit cores or puppets.

Under normal conditions, they appear no different from ordinary sentient beings, merely with thinner emotions. But if they act independently for long periods, they gradually become mechanical, numb—as if some invisible thing is constantly leaking away. This is what is called "Soul Loss Syndrome."

To counter this, they usually have a "soul linker"—a master or companion—who periodically provides them with emotion, even fragments of soul.

The nourished artificial soul gradually grows, acquiring various emotions and self-awareness, eventually becoming indistinguishable from ordinary life.

This bond is typically lifelong and imposes great loss upon the Creator.

After all, soul and spiritual energy continuously drain—damage to either directly undermines a transcendentalist's foundation.

But the Creator race never prides itself on combat strength; as researchers and alchemists, they don't care much.

Of course, this also depends on the strength of the newborn soul—raising one from infancy causes minimal drain.

Though the cost is high, it's essentially raising a "lifelong partner." For the Creator race, who are poor fighters, it's not a bad trade overall.

But Ophelia's entire accumulation and records were nearly destroyed; starting over from zero, she might as well be considered a new life.

Yet her artificial soul is exceptionally strong—just one casual link could drain an ordinary mage dry.

". ctually, I planned to wait a while, confirm Ophelia's condition was hopeless, then reveal this. I never expected Master Li En would notice already—and be willing to sacrifice himself..." With these words, most of the previously scornful or astonished glances shifted to understanding and admiration.

In truth, those who found it sudden and suspicious were the majority who knew Li En well.

But Li En's words had been so shocking, they were momentarily stunned.

Now, it seemed everything could be explained.

In the "truth" they had just received, Li En had noticed Ophelia's condition and was willing to sacrifice part of his soul to save her—but didn't want her to bear heavy moral burden, so he staged this nearly binding "confession" to let her accept his kindness naturally.

Since this "energy supply" might be lifelong, sacrificing a bit of his reputation made the contract more acceptable, letting Ophelia follow him without question.

"Uh, no, it's not like that—I didn't mean it..." Li En shook his head frantically. This was clearly the snake's prank—how did it turn into this?

"Shut up!" The "mistress" Saliman actually floated off the ground.

Spiritual lightning flashed through the room—this aura of a Grand Sorcerer forced many to reassess her strength.

Many learned for the first time that this seemingly quiet "princess's confidante" was so powerful.

She unconsciously touched her chest, took a deep breath, and asked:

"Did you know about Ophelia's Soul Loss Syndrome beforehand? Did you ever consider sacrificing your honor—even risking the collapse of our engagement—to save her?!"

"I—" Li En opened his mouth, but saw her expression shift to sudden understanding.

Uh, is my expression that easy to read? Li En was baffled.

Li En knew perfectly well—the snake had been clear: if Ophelia remained in this state, she'd soon become a lifeless doll. But he wasn't noble enough to sacrifice himself.

"Are you planning to charge her without my permission as your fiancée?" At this moment, "Saliman" dropped the act—she declared her sovereignty directly.

"Uh, I did intend to charge her, but I never planned to sacrifice myself—I should be able to bear this cost."

The rest of his explanation was pointless—he truly wasn't noble enough for self-sacrifice.

The greatest damage to a soul is death. The Thousand-Faced Dragon, capable of infinite reincarnation, has an indestructible soul!

The snake had specifically told him this, saying, "Charge as much as you want—even a whole battalion or an entire empire won't matter."

And as soon as Li En spoke half a sentence, everyone else in the parlor felt they understood everything.

Their gazes toward Li En grew even more respectful—perhaps this was a true classical knight.

He did good without expecting reward or seeking fame.

Even to let others accept his kindness, he was willing to sacrifice his honor and endure endless criticism.

"You—you—you're normal, right? Do you like women? Do you have feelings for me...?" Saliman's questions went too far, but beneath her forceful tone, there was a hint of sobbing.

Li En wanted to cry. He sighed. Was there even a second answer? He still had some dignity left.

He didn't want a horde of monsters and male comrades knocking on his door at midnight.

"I'm normal. I only like cute girls." Li En covered his face—he didn't even know how he'd said such an embarrassing thing.

"Phew." Saliman exhaled, smiling brightly at last, her face blooming like a flower.

She was almost overflowing with joy—too happy? Her pupils were glowing? Had she read something?

Watching this Saliman, Li En's heart was complicated—could he truly ignore these feelings? But he already had the Purple Rose.

Accept this emotion and become a monster—or become worse than a monster?

"I knew Master Li En was normal!" And at this moment, the one who supported Li En most was Larry.

"Exactly! True classical knight! We always knew he was normal!" Others chimed in, as if the people who had just moments ago stared at him like a pervert were not them at all.

Faced with this sudden turn of events, Li En was stunned—his reputation hadn't fallen; it had risen.

Was this the snake's "safety card"? It might truly be the only one. He'd thought the safest option—confessing to the mushroom—would lead to "soul community assimilation," which for a carbon-based lifeform was nearly death, yet somehow also called immortality.

"Snake?" He only then noticed—the snake's mocking chuckle was gone. Could he really miss this spectacle?

He looked around—but couldn't find him. He didn't come to watch?

He had apparently already left.

"Great! Finally gone!!" For the first time, at the snake's departure, Li En felt no regret or sorrow—only pure joy!

Yes, the snake had left—he hated saying goodbye, always slipped away silently.

"Who left?" But the snake suddenly reappeared, smug and triumphant.

"Uh—"

"Who will help you complete the charging ritual? Who will twist Ophelia's 'contract weapon' into the solar weapon you need?"

"Sorry, sorry!" Li En apologized quickly—he couldn't afford to anger the snake now.

The snake vanished again.

Then he reappeared again, flickering like a TV with poor signal.

"Come on, hurry up and continue the ritual—my time is running out." Seeing the snake vanish and reappear suddenly, Li En sensed something was off.

"Your time's already up."

"You know that, so why are you wasting time?" the snake snapped.

The next moment, he turned his head and spoke to Saliman, who should not have been visible.

"Disciple No. 3, come help—your power is needed for the ritual."

No. 3? At that moment, Li En was utterly stunned.

(End of Chapter)