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"How do you feel now, Durandal? Or should I say, Kiana?"
"...Wait, before that, why are we both sleeping in Sir Zeke's bed?"
In response to Kiana's question, Durandal clutched the blanket, her icy blue eyes blinking momentarily, then turned to gaze at Kiana with evident confusion.
The sudden revelation of her true identity had dealt a severe blow to Durandal's mental state and rationality, but it wasn't enough to justify sharing Zeke's bed. As a pure Valkyrie and human warrior, Durandal had no intention of involving herself in the tumultuous dynamics surrounding Zeke. Even with limited experience in matters of intimacy, she could clearly sense that this situation was highly inappropriate.
"Don't be so formal with me now, okay? This isn't just Zeke's bed; it's mine too! What's wrong with spending a night here? Worried about Zeke sneaking in during the night or something? Relax, he's way too rigid to even think of such mischief!" Kiana, holding her blanket tightly with both hands, spoke casually as if this were entirely normal. She subtly shrugged and gently nudged Durandal's shoulder, signaling their closeness.
"This..." Durandal furrowed her brows. Despite Kiana's confident reassurances, her keen senses persistently reminded her that they were indeed in Zeke's bedroom, filled with traces of his presence.
It was marked by pure yet intensely violent Honkai Energy residues, starkly contrasting with Zeke's usual calm and composed demeanor. Durandal couldn't quite comprehend why the Honkai Energy here felt so aggressive, but it made her feel like she had ventured into a dragon's lair, immersed in the overwhelming aura of a superior life form, leaving her slightly uneasy.
"No, I should go back to rest. We can discuss things tomorrow!"
"Please don't be so polite with me. I owe you a name filled with infinite promise, along with much of the love and happiness you deserved... Considering my connection through Sirin, I cannot escape responsibility for Aunt Cecilia's passing either. So let's have a proper conversation. How do you wish for me to make amends?"
Kiana spoke calmly and turned slightly to smile at Durandal.
From Kiana's words, Durandal sensed not only her remorse but also her composure. This attitude felt most comfortable for her. Having her own rational judgment, she wouldn't solely blame Kiana out of resentment. Instead, if Kiana had tearfully apologized, distraught and disoriented, it would have genuinely troubled Durandal.
"...Let me think about it. I don't seem to hold much grudge against you, but my lost memories leave those stories feeling unreal. Right now, I'm uncertain about how I truly feel; my thoughts are quite jumbled."
"Oh, I see. Alright then, shall we talk about something else? Come to think of it, although our past relationship wasn't bad, due to being on different sides, we never really had a chance to understand each other well. Now seems like a perfect time to delve deeper... Sorry, but I still hope, as much as possible, for your forgiveness or even acceptance. That way, Dad and Auntie might find some comfort moving forward. Does that sound too presumptuous?"
"No, I think..." Durandal hesitated briefly to gather her complex thoughts before turning sideways as well, facing the silver-haired girl who resembled her current self. With a silent smile, she continued: "I believe that regardless of circumstances, caring for one's family is never wrong. Kiana, I actually understand you quite well. You possess a gentle, kind, and incredibly strong heart. You've made numerous contributions to this world, even taming the powers of both the Herrscher of the Void and the Herrscher of Flame—an achievement unmatched within the Herrscher Squad. Your deep appreciation for your loved ones has always been something I admired, perhaps even envied... Perhaps this truth turned out fortunate for me after all. At least now, I know there are relatives who genuinely care about me, which brings me some quiet joy."
As Durandal spoke softly, her smile gradually became more genuine, indicating she was letting down some emotional barriers.
Kiana touched her slightly flushed cheeks and murmured,
"You're too kind. Everyone actually calls me a dunce; even Zeke teases me every day! But I'm incredibly fortunate because the people dear to me are all so gentle. They tolerate my stubbornness and don't hold my past sins against me... It's not that I'm inherently good or strong, but rather, others have bestowed kindness upon me, giving me strength. Without them, I can't imagine what state I'd be in now—I probably would've gone mad long ago."
Kiana's tone gradually turned somber and reflective.
Her past was filled with unbearable burdens and heaviness. She believed her everyday optimism and carefree attitude stemmed from the affection showered on her by those around her. Without their love, she felt she wouldn't amount to anything.
Noticing Kiana's mood growing downcast, Durandal instinctively reached out and gently caressed her smooth, fair cheek.
"Kiana."
"Hm?"
"You must understand that receiving and giving love is also a form of great strength. You receive it because you're worthy, and you give it because your character shines like gold—embrace your virtues, believe in yourself, you truly are remarkable!"
"Pfft! Now you've made me blush! Thanks, Durandal!"
Confronted by Durandal's earnest gaze, Kiana chuckled and wiped away tears of laughter from her eyes.
She scooted closer to Durandal, feeling the subtle sweetness emanating from her like blooming orchids. Underneath the blanket, she gently grasped Durandal's warm hand and said:
"Don't just talk about me; tell me something about yourself, Durandal!"
"I...I'm quite a dull person, there isn't much to say." Durandal rubbed her chin, nodding firmly, confirming her own assessment.
Kiana pouted, clearly displeased: "Nonsense! Zeke thinks very highly of you - strongest Valkyrie, human pinnacle, epitome of virtue... He even occasionally uses you as an example while scolding me; you can't imagine how frustrating that is!"
"B-but really? Sir Zeke must be exaggerating. I'm just a clumsy Valkyrie whose life revolves around missions and training. I don't know household chores or fashion, struggle to take care of myself, and often miss social cues, causing headaches for those around me. If not for Rita always helping me, things would surely be a mess!"
Durandal pursed her lips, dejectedly affirming her self-assessment with unwavering certainty.
Kiana rubbed her nose and responded, somewhat dumbfounded:
"Well, based on that, I truly am your clone!"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"It's because I'm the same way. Without Zeke and others looking after me...I-I'd also end up making a mess of things. Taking care of myself is not my forte either!"
"Uh...sorry, it seems like I've burdened you too!"
Durandal gently patted Kiana's shoulder, expressing deep remorse as the provider of Kiana's genetic material.
They gazed into each other's eyes; Kiana blinked, followed by Durandal blinking similarly.
"Pfft!" × 2
Both burst out laughing simultaneously, feeling an instant sense of camaraderie. The initial distance between them seemed to vanish abruptly.
At that moment, Kiana's antenna-like hair swayed, and unexpectedly, a similar golden strand emerged atop Durandal's head, mirroring its movement.
Then, Kiana's eyes sparkled as she suggested:
"How about we start by sharing our experiences with each other? I'm quite curious about your life within Schicksal. In exchange, I'll tell you about my adventures wandering Europe to find that dumb dad of ours and my encounters with Zeke after that—we had some wild times together!"
"Sounds good. Why don't you go first?"
"Sure thing! Let me tell you, although our dad might love us deeply, he's actually pretty unreliable. How did sweet and beautiful Aunt Cecilia ever fall for such a goofball? It's like a heavenly Snow Lotus stuck in cow dung! Back in those days, when I was with that stinky old man..."
Kiana slowly recounted her experiences.
Overall, with strong personal bias, her narrative primarily focused on criticizing Siegfried's foolishness, interspersed with jabs at Sin, Bronya, and others, all while portraying Kiana herself as innocent and charming. However, she spoke most extensively about various incidents involving Zeke—sometimes complaining, sometimes blushing coyly, and often expressing moments of pure joy.
Durandal listened attentively, nodding and frowning at different points, gradually becoming fully immersed in the world Kiana described.
Tap! Tap!
Tappity-tap!
Bam-bam-bam-bam!
KABOOM!!!
After enduring a series of knocks that escalated from calm to increasingly agitated and violent, Zeke's door finally gave way under Rita's punch.
"Lady Durandal, Rita is here—h-hello, Sir Zeke!" Standing gracefully at the ruined entrance, Rita curtsied with her dress held up, offering a stiff smile amid beads of cold sweat on her forehead.
Dressed in a skimpy maid outfit, she exposed ample snow-white skin across her thighs, feet, and back, enticingly catching one's gaze—a provocative yet visually appealing attire.
Durandal had entered Zeke's room shortly after 8 PM, but even past 11 PM when it was time for rest, she hadn't emerged. Additionally, the communicator Rita specifically instructed Durandal to carry lost its signal right away—leaving no choice but for Rita to risk her life and forcefully intervene.
As for this outfit... Surely nobody would think Miss Rita, merely an S-rank gatekeeper, could confront Emperor Zeke head-on just by donning Valkyrie Armor, right? No, surely not?
Rita had long understood that forceful defense would be futile, so she opted for another approach: transforming herself into an enticing figure, risking her own virtue to save the overly naive and innocent Lady Durandal!
However, upon bursting through the door, she found Zeke alone on the living room sofa, engrossed in numerous floating screens. Instantly, Rita realized that Durandal's situation likely wasn't as dire as feared—but her own predicament was grave indeed. How could she justify trespassing into the emperor's private quarters?
"What is it?" At that moment, Zeke paused his interaction with the projection screens, and his icy-cold gaze fell upon the sweating Rita.
Seven gunshot wounds followed by suicide, stomach filled with cement and sunk at sea, head exploding from viral infection, accidental trampling incident under a Titan, discovering irrefutable evidence of crimes against humanity hidden beneath a pillow...
In that instant, Rita envisioned nine plausible ways she could meet her demise—precisely nine!
"Burp!"
Pallid-faced, Rita let out a nervous burp amidst her fear, her mind going completely blank.