Durandal and her companions ultimately chose Zeke as their Anchor Point subject.
This decision wasn't difficult to understand. Senti's fearless personality—frankly speaking, verging on reckless—made it unpredictable when his actions would lead to brilliance or self-destructive folly. He often risked endangering himself without realizing it. Although his power was formidable, the associated risks were even greater!
Since Fu Hua and Senti shared a unified existence, choosing either of them was equally unfeasible.
Thus, the remaining option was Zeke. Selecting him provided considerable reassurance. His conduct and abilities could be summed up in one word—dependable.
"Since the Anchor Point has been chosen, our next step is to dismantle and rebuild the Wishing Machine into a usable Anchor Point prototype. Zhuge Kongming, I require you to orchestrate another grand scheme. Your Profound Gate techniques are remnants of ancient technology; properly utilized, they can streamline my work. Considering that most of your mages have been depleted due to deducing space-time information, Fu Hua will assist you in this aspect."
From his throne, Zeke held a white light sphere with one hand, legs crossed, his expression impassive as he spoke. Despite no harsh words or coercion, his presence commanded genuine admiration, leaving no room for dissent.
"Yes!" × 2
Zhuge Kongming bowed respectfully, his youthful face solemn, then glanced at Fu Hua, who had also affirmed her agreement.
Fu Hua stood beside the throne. After slightly bowing to Zeke, she looked up towards Zhuge Kongming, offering him a gentle smile. The serene gaze in her star-like eyes instilled a sense of calm and reassurance without any effort.
As for how Zeke, always present at the underwater altar, could be aware of Huang Country's mages' actions and current state, it didn't surprise anyone. His Majesty Zeke was omnipotent; everyone had grown accustomed to it.
Zeke acknowledged her response with a slight nod, his icy-blue eyes, calm as ancient wells, shifting to gaze upon Rita and Kiana standing below.
"You two, one of you will organize cultural texts not yet catalogued in the royal library, while the other should seek out secret martial techniques and magical arts from various sects."
"Yes!" both replied in unison, despite not fully comprehending how these tasks related to reconstructing the Anchor Point prototype. However, their understanding was limited, so they didn't question further, focusing solely on execution.
Finally, Zeke's gaze settled on Durandal.
"As for you..."
Durandal bowed respectfully, hands cupped, awaiting her assigned mission.
With a clench of Zeke's right hand, the wishing machine he held disappeared. Nonchalantly, he said:
"Go attend to your duties; there's nothing here for you now."
"Huh?"
"Aren't you the emperor? Don't you need to manage state affairs?"
"Well... The Central System and officials at all levels handle state matters, ensuring short-term stability. Compared to that, Durandal believes Imperial Father's current endeavors are more crucial. If there is anything required, please do not hesitate to instruct me."
"The focus is on technology; your roles are limited here. Just don't disturb me—that's how you can help. Also, could you please not call me 'Imperial Father'?"
Zeke leaned forward, his indifferent gaze softening slightly with a hint of exasperation.
The rulers and ministers of the Huang Empire were quite rigid, with Durandal being the most stubborn among them—especially when it came to rules. She adhered to protocol meticulously. Yet her demeanor remained consistently humble throughout, making it both baffling and difficult for anyone to get angry at her.
"Then, my sovereign father?"
Silence...
"My esteemed sire?"
More silence...
"Father... Fa... Fat..."
Durandal cautiously tried different titles but stumbled, unable to find one that satisfied Zeke. Despite maintaining a serious expression, she couldn't hide the uncertainty in her wandering eyes.
In any case, all options seemed to involve the word "father," right? Tired of this exchange, Zeke simply waved his hand.
"All right, call me whatever you like. You may leave now."
"Yes, Imperial Father!" Durandal responded crisply, visibly relieved.
As they prepared to depart, a small, delicate hand raised from below.
Zeke glanced up and saw it was Kiana, the second imperial princess. Her bright eyes sparkled innocently, while her pink, glossy lips curved slightly upwards, exuding an irresistibly adorable curiosity.
"What is it?"
"Well, since we've finished discussing serious matters, I'm quite curious—just who was that person who looked so much like me earlier?"
This question piqued Durandal, Zhuge Kongming, and Rita's interest as well, causing them to instinctively lean in closer. Firstly, it touched upon an intriguing mystery; secondly, they had never before witnessed Zeke, seemingly immune to their charms, showing signs of romantic entanglement. Naturally, they couldn't resist delving further.
"The relationship between our world's Kiana Kaslana and you... The branches of the Imaginary Tree bear infinite leaves, representing limitless possibilities. At the same time, many worlds share similarities and connections. Occasionally, individuals remarkably alike can emerge independently in different worlds, virtually indistinguishable from each other. This phenomenon is known as Parallel World Avatars."
"I see..." Kiana stroked her chin, nodding sagely.
Zeke gazed at her quietly and asked bluntly yet expressionlessly:
"You didn't understand, did you?"
It was phrased as a question, but Zeke's tone conveyed certainty. His Kiana would always put on this same act whenever she encountered complex concepts, pretending to comprehend despite not truly grasping them.
Blushing, Kiana waved her hands frantically and hastily replied:
"I... Oh, never mind, it doesn't matter! So anyway, that girl is Your Majesty's consort?"
"Unwed fiancée," Zeke corrected, emphasizing that no official wedding ceremony had taken place yet. For girls, lacking such a formal event might feel incomplete, so it was crucial to give importance to these rituals.
What Zeke left unsaid was adding "one of" before "unwed fiancée." After all, there was also Bronya, whose romantic subplot was firmly established. Additionally, Sin, given no surprises, seemed inseparable from him now.
The dilemma arose when considering whether to hold one grand wedding, marrying all three brides simultaneously, or conduct separate ceremonies for each bride sequentially. It posed a significant challenge.
Having just one wedding felt disrespectful to them, possibly making it seem incomplete. Holding three separate ceremonies would grant each girl her own complete event, but deciding the order presents another headache. It might even lead to arguments—or physical fights—who knows? Forcing a decision would undoubtedly disappoint someone.
Zeke's mind wandered as he delved deeper into analyzing this issue.
For instance, there's the Quantum Wedding technique, using entanglement effects to erase the concept of chronological order.
Or the Consciousness Splitting Wedding, where finding three world bubbles and arranging simultaneous ceremonies could divide his consciousness evenly among them.
Then there's the Black Hole Space Wedding, leveraging time distortion to eliminate any notion of sequence.
Hmm, well, don't expect romantic thoughts from a tech-savvy guy; his focus is solely on solving problems.
"So, Your Majesty prefers my type, then?" Kiana gleefully interjected while Zeke was deep in thought, casting triumphant glances at the others—See that? I've got the charm! You girls take notes!
"(! ̄〈 ̄)" ×3
Some were merely irritated, while others harbored growing resentment, but none dared voice their feelings.
Kiana proudly puffed out her chest, causing delightful ripples to flow along her slender waistline. Cleverly seizing the opportunity, she suggested:
"Since we all look alike, why not consider sharing Your Majesty's bed? I certainly wouldn't mind. Let us fulfill our marital duties tonight, easing Your Majesty's loneliness. Who knows, perhaps in time, it could even result in a new heir for the Empire—a truly perfect arrangement!"
"Pfft!" Fu Hua covered her mouth, unable to suppress a stifled giggle.
Zeke glanced at her briefly. Suddenly, this once rigid and stoic immortal straightened up, adopting a serious expression.
"Sigh—" Zeke let out a soft, melancholic sigh before looking down again, noticing anticipation and encouragement in the eyes of those below him.
"Bam!"
In the next moment, with a deafening roar, immense force catapulted the monarch and three ministers, sending them flying far beyond the palace walls.
Then, Zeke shifted his gaze sidelong towards Fu Hua.
Smiling warmly, Fu Hua waved her hand gently.
"No need to worry; I'll leave on my own. Please take care of Senti for now."
With a serene smile, Fu Hua gracefully stepped away, her delicate footsteps leading her outside the hall.
With their sudden departure, silence fell upon the Great Hall instantly. As a result, someone's not-so-subtle snoring became quite noticeable.
"Hoo... hoo... hoo..."
Senti was undoubtedly enjoying a deep slumber on the floor near the imperial throne, covered by a light white quilt, drool unabashedly streaming down her chin.
"Old Antique... sugar-coated haws... take this, sword of God, you bastard Zeke! Zzzz..."
Zeke narrowed his eyes, lifted his foot, and delivered a swift kick.
"Bam!"
Girl and quilt alike slammed against a pillar several meters away with a loud thud, sticking momentarily before sliding to the ground.
"Ouch!!!" Senti cried out. "Who hit me? Show yourself!"
"You're tired of living, huh... Oh hey, Zeke, good evening!"
Senti's angry rant abruptly halted as she met Zeke's lifeless, fish-eyed gaze, replaced by a courteous greeting instead.
Though unsure what had transpired or how long she'd been asleep, and with no idea where Old Antique had gone, one thing remained clear: don't provoke Zeke. Rubbing her bright red nose, Senti instinctively learned discretion in private, without anyone around to witness her loss of face.
"You'll assist me for the next few days. Whatever I tell you to do, just do it."
"Why should I...uh, I mean, don't I still have many other tasks?" Senti pulled out a lengthy task list, only half-crossed off, forcing a strained smile while her eyes twitched nervously.
Zeke glanced at the task list, and flames suddenly engulfed the paper right in Senti's hand, turning it to ash.
"Now, you have no tasks."
"Then...my portraits and recordings..."
"They've been destroyed."
"Really? That's fantastic! Thank you, Zeke!" Senti clapped her hands, brushing away the ashes, and beamed with delight.
With their destruction, her reputation was safe, preserving the dignity of an immortal!
Senti chuckled naively, feeling more favorably towards Zeke all of a sudden. Despite him being a rigid straight man and a big jerk, he certainly handled things decisively—though she seemed to forget that those damaging materials existed precisely because of Zeke's schemes against her.
"No need to thank me, just focus on your work," Zeke replied matter-of-factly, taking the stance of one bestowing favors.
Zeke spoke matter-of-factly, assuming the stance of a benefactor.
Senti patted her chest, beaming with a simple and cheerful smile.
"No problem! Repaying kindness is fundamental for immortals—leave it to me!"