Chapter 75: The Storm Is Coming

How to piss off a princess in three sentences.

“You, a princess, the noble Princess Dannia, have so little confidence you can’t compete against an ordinary person with no resources or backing?”

First, question her ability.

“Are you insulting the Heroic Souls? Do you think Heroic Souls can be deceived so easily? As royalty, do you have the right to look down on Heroic Souls? Hmph, how arrogant.”

Second, question her character.

“Do you also look down on Su Er? What would he think of you if he found out?”

Finally, drag in someone she cares about, and stir up emotion.

“Boom!”

The girl’s pupils widened sharply, lightning flashing within them.

Her silver teeth clenched with a grinding sound, but she refrained from hurling lightning or fireballs—she managed to hold back her rage.

Naturally, following Li En’s insolent words, this private meeting ended in acrimony.

Clearly, Li En, this new knight, showed no respect whatsoever—he treated the royal family and feudal hierarchy as if they meant nothing.

In fact, had it not been that revoking Li En’s knighthood right now would make Princess Dannia herself look foolish—she had just been ennobled—she would have done it without hesitation!

Face flushed crimson, eyes crackling with lightning, Dannia didn’t even know how she managed to freeze her expression and finish the social formalities, declaring the private meeting over.

“Asshole!”

Storming back to her room, she pounded her pillow furiously, shouting as she did.

“Asshole knight! Stupid tin can! I was so nice to you!! Ungrateful, stinking bastard!”

Still not satisfied, she began scribbling in her notebook.

“I won’t give you Sallyman! Stupid lizard!”

Overcome with rage, she swiftly wrote a secret letter.

Then, she simply drew a giant face right on her pillow—her solid artistic skill (as a spellcaster with supplementary training) made it eerily lifelike.

“Crash!” Dragon power slammed down hard.

“Asshole! All of you are assholes! Even my father never talked to me like this!” She hurled the pillow around, muttering under her breath.

Though she might seem mature, and her intellect highly developed, as Kuku said, dragon-blooded beings mature slowly.

Sixteen-year-old Dannia was, in truth, just a girl pretending to be grown-up.

She was furious—deeply, bitterly angry—at someone she cared about.

Her constant targeting of Li En stemmed precisely from how much she cared; theoretically, the Heroic Soul’s heir would be the one with the deepest soul resonance.

She felt nothing for the interim candidate, Dimon, but resented that Li En had the right to inherit Su Er.

Now, she resented him even more.

Even if only Heroic Soul candidates were present in that small hall, no one would spread the rumor that “their own newly ennobled knight had driven their princess to rage”—it would become the nobility’s top gossip.

She had never endured such humiliation in her life.

Who would dare treat someone like this?

Hmm, there was one—the stinking old man who chased her to kill her.

Exhausted, sprawled on her bed, Dannia stared at the ceiling—and couldn’t help recalling the man’s words.

“What would Su Er think of you if he found out?”

“He…” Dannia couldn’t answer—but perhaps she already knew the answer.

Su Er wouldn’t get angry or scold her, but he’d be disappointed—just looking at her, shaking his head, sighing, as if watching a hopeless fool.

“No. No!” She grew even angrier.

But unconsciously, the two knights’ figures blurred together—she, who had always refused to accept Li En as Su Er’s heir, now at this moment realized: this stinking, stubborn knight’s personality was exactly the same.

“Stupid tin can!” In the end, she could only hug the pillow, now battered beyond recognition, and brush off its feathers and dust.

“Stupid tin can.” In the end, the trash bin held the shredded secret letter—she ultimately didn’t stop the planned “knight-enthronement gift.”

Time rewound slightly: the princess was seething, bystanders stunned, yet the defiant knight wore an expression of calm.

I accepted your ennoblement—I’m nominally yours, but don’t expect me to be your dog.

“Suck-ups die miserable deaths. Politicians use pawns and never care if they die.”

A mysterious buff made Li En’s mind sharper than ever; from every angle, he couldn’t let the princess act recklessly.

If he bowed now, all these knight candidates would become the princess’s servants, forming an old-guard clique in the Heroic Soul Hall, free to bully newcomers with status and seniority.

Then, using her royal privilege, she could truly crush every new Heroic Soul candidate, turning the Hall’s young talents into her private power base—something Li En would never accept.

“The initiative must be mine.”

Having set this primary goal, Li En naturally tore off the mask of civility.

From Li En’s standpoint, if he wanted to retain control of the Heroic Soul Hall, he couldn’t let Dannia dominate—he even needed to suppress her to some degree.

Previously, he might have hesitated, fearing he’d offend the princess.

“She seems badly raised. If she’s truly a cold-blooded politician, I must consider whether I should even remain under her nominal authority—I might die without knowing why. Let’s test her a bit. If not, I’ll consider withdrawing.”

Li En never overestimated a politician’s morals or ethical bottom line. How could he overestimate something that didn’t exist?

His daughter in his past life was also from his past life—she wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.

If she knew? Hmm, she might strike even harder!

Perhaps keeping some distance would be safer—for himself and those around him.

“It’s Sallyman.”

The only regret was Sallyman, caught in the middle—she’d likely suffer from both sides.

Li En could already picture it: enraged Dannia, screaming at Sallyman five times a second, completely broken.

Once he confirmed Dannia was a Dragon Hunter, Li En understood Sallyman’s past situation and her confusing actions.

Perhaps that time she came to announce the engagement to protect him—was forced by the princess.

“Considering this, distancing ourselves might actually be better.”

Previously, Li En had hesitated—but now he’d learned he was apparently a “snake mint.” To accidentally trap such a good girl like Sallyman felt too cruel.

Keeping some distance might be better for both of them.

“Rational” Li En made the most “rational” choice.

In a sense, this was also a test of Dannia’s tolerance—if she truly proved unsuitable, Li En would flee without hesitation; he had no desire to die mysteriously in some noble’s power exchange.

Of course, if the Heroic Soul’s inheritance truly suited Dannia, Li En had no reason to interfere.

“Unsuitable! Terrible compatibility!” Kuku gave the answer outright.

But this time, Dannia would likely be humiliated again.

“Mine. Normal people can’t use it. Not an intelligence issue—it’s personality!” Hmm, that might be a problem—this candidate pool might end up full of lunatics.

But considering Kuku’s obvious “multiple personality” trait, the one capable of inheriting this power probably wasn’t normal to begin with.

Li En himself had tried using this soul ability—barely functional, but he couldn’t feel its advantages or weaknesses; instead, the more he used it, the duller his mind felt, as if under a mental curse.

At present, given his current ability set, using this soul ability was a net negative.

It seemed that even if he wanted to obtain this power, he’d need time.

“Finally… back.” When Li En returned to his residence in the South Gate district, he exhaled in relief.

After this nonstop whirlwind, he’d finally rest properly.

“Welcome back, friend!”

Seeing Xiao Lanna running over in her maid’s uniform, Li En smiled contentedly.

“Miss Lanna was very diligent today—she ate properly, dressed herself, and even helped with chores,” added the other maid.

Hearing the praise, Lanna beamed.

She tiptoed and offered her “cat ears,” asking Li En to stroke and praise them.

“Really? Good girl, good girl…” How could Li En refuse?

Li En silently vowed: if he ever had a daughter, she must be like this!

With a touch of guilt, Li En spent the evening playing with the little girl—he was surprised to find Lanna had clearly “grown” a bit; development seemed imminent.

Previously, she delighted in building blocks and childish games; now she preferred card games, stories, and things older children enjoyed—her mind was developing again.

This filled the “old father” with joy, yet also a quiet unease.

But fortunately, her affection was still genuine.

Late at night, alone in his room, Li En lowered his guard and felt deep, genuine exhaustion.

He planned to read a book, then rest.

“Thump!” Something kicked up from below—Kusla launched a surprise iron-leg attack!

“Stop sleeping! Get up! Get up and study!” The hoarse synthesized voice, even at night, brimmed with energy.

“What are you doing?! I’m exhausted!” Li En clutched his left foot, hopping on one leg—this little brat hit hard!

He’d just recovered from serious injuries and had been running nonstop—he needed rest.

“Your surroundings! Your current strength! Can you even sleep?” Kuku sneered—do you really not want to live?

“What’s wrong with me? My surroundings are safe now—I can improve slowly.” Li En wasn’t making excuses; he was truly drained.

“Slowly? You’ll be dead. Very soon.”

Kuku paused, deciding he needed a less shocking reason.

“Don’t you remember? What the girl said today.”

Li En recalled—it was nothing much; the princess had just used the occasion to announce her entry onto the political stage.

“Underground! War! Idiot.”

Clearly, Li En had underestimated the severity of the matter, treating an impending full-scale war as mere political theater.

Under Kuku’s explanation, Li En finally understood what the underground ruins represented.

“The Beast’s power! Slice it off. Digest it early. Prevent accumulation and explosion!”

Beasts are hard to eradicate completely; in a sense, they are embodiments of nature—sealing is the best choice.

Normal life forms may die after being sealed for long, but Beasts with “infinite life” only keep accumulating power until they finally shatter the seal.

Thus, a certain sage modified the seal so that it continuously drains the sealed entity’s power—the demonic creatures and demons in the underground ruins beneath Huicheng, treated by the kingdom and city as resource nodes, are sourced from that underground seal’s “Deer.”

It’s like constantly cutting and bleeding it—can’t kill it, but it’s damned annoying.

The Beastfolk’s realm also continuously eliminates newly born demonic creatures to prevent accumulation and loss of control.

In some places, they even treat them as resource nodes to be harvested regularly—in truth, this has become a mature system, a nutrient supply line for the birth of transcendent beings.

Today, many underground labyrinths, ruins, and demonic forests across the continent—high-risk zones—not only have dedicated guardians, but often conceal massive entities sealed beneath them. Yet even these are not the world’s greatest threat.

With the return of the Demon Tide, rising tides lift all boats: more power flows out, the Beast’s ability to interfere externally grows stronger, and seals already at their limits will eventually fail.

And now, if this problem is to be truly resolved—whether by confronting the Beast directly or reinforcing the seal—one must fight through the entire underground ruin.

But currently, the kingdom’s explorers have been hunting only at the ruin’s surface.

The kingdom alone cannot handle it; Dai Nia has raised the banner and formed a coalition for a punitive campaign.

“You. Think you can avoid it? The war will last at most three months!”

(End of Chapter)