Chapter 67: Strength Allows No Modesty (Please Subscribe)

Apart from the undeniable sense of the demon’s fierce yearning, Mulan believed none of its other words. In truth, Mulan was not particularly afraid of this demon; in fact, if the old sorcerer were willing to help, Mulan would have liked to pierce both the bottle cap and the demon with his fangs. Since the last time, the fangs had grown increasingly unnatural; as they were able to consume those few spirit entities, surely they could harm the demon in its current state, perhaps even tear off a piece of its spirit. Yet Mulan would never suggest such a thing: firstly, for fear of exposing himself; secondly, the old sorcerer would never agree.

After all, the demon was, in some sense, the old sorcerer’s property—a kind of asset. The magic required to create and summon a demon was not so easily performed. The world shaped by the sorcerers of Valata followed a fundamental principle: magical power does not arise out of nothing, and powerful spells demand a price. Thus, Mulan was certain the old sorcerer had paid dearly to summon this demon, especially since its autonomous consciousness was so strong. By the definitions of Valata and various magical texts, it was an upper-ranked demon, though unlucky due to its incomplete physical form.

Today, Mulan would not study the demon. He locked the bottle away in a chest at home and hurriedly left the Black Castle, having already received word of the Queen’s summons.

The seeds sown earlier had sprouted; concerning the corruption in the imperial military, those at the top might still remain calm, but those directly involved were growing uneasy. The editorial office of the Digo Times had received an official warning forbidding publication of related news, so by the sixth day, all reports of military scandals vanished from the Digo Times and other newspapers.

As Mulan departed the Black Castle, in the Digo Royal Palace’s council chamber, the weekly morning session of state affairs was drawing to a close, and not a soul mentioned the military scandals.

While the Minister of Finance summarized the current postwar expenditures, Nisheheliel, listening to the reports, suddenly waved her hand.

“That’s enough, no need to say more.”

The Minister of Finance fell silent at once. The Queen turned towards the generals.

“In fact, I was waiting for someone to bring up a certain matter today, but it seems no one will. You all have a habit of reading the papers, I trust?”

The generals’ faces grew grim, and the other ministers seemed to understand, most remaining silent while a few responded.

Nisheheliel’s expression darkened; she ordered the prepared newspapers brought forth.

“The contents of recent days—I believe you’ve all seen them, yes? Generals, ministers, you’ve seen them, haven’t you?”

“Uh, Your Majesty...”

A minister had barely begun when Nisheheliel, angered, spoke loudly.

“The honor of the imperial army cannot be sullied. Even if there are some issues within the ranks, the newspapers’ slander is excessive, rising to the level of deliberate rumor-mongering and provocation. I have ordered all major papers to cease such reports and to thoroughly investigate those spreading this information, with no leniency!”

“Your Majesty is wise!” “Thank you for defending us, Your Majesty!”

The generals and relevant officials felt a weight lift and hurried to offer grateful praise.

Then, one of the Queen’s close advisors changed the subject, openly discussing the possibility of agitation behind the papers, while covertly questioning why the military was targeted, linking it to previous worker unrest. The more they discussed, the more it felt like a grand conspiracy.

“That’s enough. We’re done for today.”

Nisheheliel seemed irritable, quickly setting the tone.

“External threats always exist. I don’t wish to debate whether there are traitors among the army or ministers, but clearly the logistics division of the imperial military has had some minor issues. I believe we must select a few exemplary cases for severe punishment to quell public anger. Let’s not let this escalate further.”

——

The mention of traitors verged on treason; the implicated ministers dared not say a word, secretly dabbing sweat and hastening to praise the Queen’s decisive wisdom.

When the meeting ended, Nisheheliel could no longer keep her stern face, bursting into laughter as she rose for her office, instructing someone to bring Mulan, who had arrived at the palace and waited nearby.

Even as Mulan entered the Queen’s office, her joyous expression was impossible to hide.

“Lord Jonstead, you’ve come at just the right moment. Tell me, if those selected for exemplary punishment receive warning in advance, how much would they spill to save themselves?”

Mulan first bowed to the Queen, then nodded and smiled at her two trusted advisors.

“Your Majesty, it must be gradual—bait the small fish, then lure the big, peeling back the layers one by one.”

Nisheheliel laughed for a while, then sighed.

“Only with secret investigations did I realize how many officials are involved, several ministers among them. It’s impossible to purge them all. Once we thoroughly investigate a few key figures in the mid-ranks, we can stop, then allow certain generals and ministers to retire with dignity. That should be the best outcome.”

Hearing this, Mulan knew a complete purge was unrealistic, but achieving this much at least avenged his fallen comrades.

“To accomplish this is already rare. Your Majesty will have ample opportunity to gradually reform the military.”

Nisheheliel gazed at Mulan, who bowed his head slightly.

“You’re not disappointed in my decision?”

“Quite the opposite, Your Majesty. I understand this is the way of a true sovereign. A thunderous purge may be satisfying, but it would provoke fierce backlash and impede state affairs and military operations.”

Mulan offered words tailored to the occasion, eliciting another gentle laugh from Nisheheliel.

She felt that through this affair, she and Mulan had established both trust and a deeper understanding between ruler and subject, which pleased her greatly—at least, so she believed.

“Lord Jonstead, though matters are not yet resolved, I am confident they will be handled well. You have certainly earned merit, though it cannot be publicly acknowledged for now. The main reward must wait until your next achievement, but material rewards should not be lacking. How about granting you a vineyard estate?”

“Thank you, Your Majesty, for your gracious gift!”

Let alone a vineyard, Mulan would gladly accept a mere slice of cake.

Before the Queen, Mulan was an attentive and worthy subject. He had achieved his aims and demonstrated his abilities; since the Queen did not wish to pursue a radical course, Mulan had no need to wield the knife himself. He could now focus on his research and prepare for his path to transcendence.

Even though Mulan now seemed to flourish in the Black Castle, he knew he had not truly entered its core. He could not access the Seal Vault, nor did he know its exact location. It lay at the boundary between the outer and inner worlds, guarded by forces capable of influencing both sides, and contained sacred relics and uncanny objects.

Leaving the palace, Mulan felt much lighter. Whatever the outcome, his fundamental goal was achieved. Yet the Empire of Dilga, at its heart, remained a nation centered on royal power and the interests of the nobility.

Rather than say Mulan’s plan was ruthless, it was more accurate to say that even Nisheheliel believed that her chosen measures were already a great boon to the lower classes, and she wished to avoid irreconcilable conflict with the great nobles.

Moreover, this was not a world of mere surface appearances; the existence of transcendent beings made many things unpredictable, and the nobles wielded power as well.

Understanding was one thing; still, Mulan felt a measure of regret and disappointment toward the beautiful Queen.

——

Hurriedly returning from the palace to the Black Castle, Mulan’s first act was to open the storage chest and check that the demon’s bottle was intact.

“Hehehehe, no need to worry. Even if the bottle opened before you returned, I wouldn’t go far—I’d wait here for you...”

No sooner had he taken out the bottle than the demon’s incessant chatter began.

Mulan’s response was to grab the bottle and shake it vigorously—a tactic that worked wonders against the demon, effectively dampening its urge to speak.

During the rental period, whenever Mulan was alone with the demon’s bottle, its message was always the same, repeated endlessly: it wanted to form an alliance of equals, even offering to serve Mulan as its master.

Mulan paid little heed to the demon’s words, at most teasing it out of boredom.

Such a high-density spiritual entity as a demon, if it possessed a body capable of bearing it, would surely have an extraordinary physical strength—either shaped in the process of creation, or, if unsuccessful, would have to occupy another body.

But most bodies were insufficient, so the demon would infiltrate them bit by bit, gradually strengthening and growing—a process described in demonology as demonic transformation, much like possession by evil spirits, and thus often misunderstood.

In this process, the original soul of the body would not be extinguished—if it died too soon, the body would perish as well—so there was a struggle between the original soul’s will and the demon’s consciousness, until they harmonized and became a complete whole.

Mulan understood this principle well, so he believed not a single word of the demon’s talk about serving him or forging a mighty alliance.

Confronted by Mulan’s violent silencing methods, the demon fell quiet, while Mulan opened the basic magic book and a tome of arcane secrets to compare paths. His grasp of the three world-layers was strong; the key lay in the five elements.

“The element of creation, symbolizing the future, seems akin to the old sorcerer’s way of creating demons. If I wish to condense the first element, which leans toward the spiritual, perhaps I can start here. Yet the difference is, I must clearly define my own future.”

“Hm, for the basic elements, my body and soul should be well-tempered. Resources like potions are certainly within reach, at least for now the potion grades are not high. As for special elements, I do possess one. The fifth element is too sinister and an external force of strong effect—I won’t touch it.”

Mulan wrote quickly in his notebook, filled with diagrams of arrays and a series of formulas—some from the arcane, others modern equations from his previous life for calculating potions and material phenomena.

He even drew a chart dividing the human body into tangible and intangible layers, depicting the three worlds as concentric rings around the body, with the five elements represented by different colors and forms overlaying these realms, complete with explanatory entries, and mapping the pathways to transcendence...

The contents of these notes could already be considered a magic book, and even if the old sorcerer were to see them, he would not understand much. Even without comprehension, one would still sense their profundity.

By Mulan’s calculations, no matter which path he chose, his chances of success were high. Yet for any path, the foundation was crucial. Unlike others who stumbled upon transcendence by talent and mystery, Mulan believed he could enter the supernatural with clarity.

In the Black Castle, most people underwent a biannual assessment of physical fitness, and an annual review of bodily refinement and path matching. When it came to condensing or preparing the elements and constructing the forming world, it took two or three years. Now, with systematic instruction, perhaps one could prepare other aspects alongside bodily refinement, but it would still take at least a year for results.

Mulan felt that as long as he wasn’t overtaken by students, he had plenty of time. He suddenly discovered a new allure in the mystical world—the allure of research and the pursuit of truth.

Even the once-baffling staff teleportation incident was now coming into focus. It was a kind of interference by the owner upon a special artifact, and not without precedent—requiring willpower, a sufficiently intense spirit, and powerful energies combined. It just appeared uncanny when it happened to him.

Mulan swore, he truly had no intention of becoming an academic prodigy—it was simply that his strength would not allow otherwise.