Chapter 197 - CHAPTER 197:Raiders of the Empress

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For many of the animated characters who had crossed over, most people might not recall their names or precise features, but their overall appearance and aura often lingered in memory.

The moment the opposing figure appeared, Shen He had already grasped who it was.

The Empress…

Her true name: Semiramis—recorded in human history as one of the earliest and most notorious poisoners. She became infamous after poisoning her own husband, a reigning monarch, to seize power and rise as the Empress of Assyria. While originally summoned in the Assassin class, she was equally known for her capability as a Caster, having mastered ancient toxicology and esoteric rituals.

As the swirling haze of summoning dissipated, Shen He processed the data flooding into his consciousness from the summoning system. Simultaneously, Semiramis narrowed her sharp, elegant eyes, clearly receiving information through her connection to the summoning anchor in this world.

"So, that's how it is." Her once-furrowed brows relaxed, though the sense of regal distance and veiled contempt in her expression remained. "The title of humanity's oldest poisoner is no empty boast. I am Semiramis, the Empress of Assyria. But... are you qualified to speak my name?"

Faced with such imposing confidence, Shen He was momentarily stunned—but quickly let out a small sigh. Not of disappointment, but of reluctant amusement.

If memory served, the fundamental cornerstone of Semiramis' personality was rejection. The Empress viewed all others as either tools or disinterested courtiers. Affection was a rare commodity, one not freely given, especially not to the "master" she had been bound to.

But Shen He also understood her design. The type of person Semiramis truly favored was someone who moved forward without fawning over her, who remained distant, independent, and unwavering. The colder one acted—the more effective the result.

"The Empress of Assyria," Shen He replied evenly, taking advantage of the information advantage granted by his spiritual link. "You should know there's no Holy Grail War in this world. I'm no Master desperately relying on a Servant to survive. If you choose not to aid me, all I'll lose is a passing regret."

It wasn't posturing—it was simply fact. Shen He had other followers—many far more cooperative or symbolic in nature. If Semiramis preferred to idle, he'd allow it. So long as she didn't drain his resources unnecessarily.

His calm gaze met hers, and for a split second, even Semiramis looked slightly caught off guard.

"Interesting," she said with a sly smirk, her eyes flashing like venom-laced jewels. "You claim not to need Gu's help? Then perhaps Gu has been underestimated, young lord. Speak your goal. Let Gu judge if it's worth intervening."

"It's a goal that ends only with the end of my life," Shen He answered without hesitation, his voice steady. "To grow, to move forward—to see just how far I can reach in this extraordinary life. Nothing more."

Not so much a goal as a wish.

He did not crave power for its own sake. Nor did he seek control over others. But he was fascinated by the journey itself. The kaleidoscopic shifts, the multiversal collisions, the strange beauty of this new life. How many could say they were gifted such an opportunity?

For that reason alone, Shen He had no excuse to hesitate.

"Interesting." Semiramis' lips curled faintly.

But in her chest—long thought to have withered with ambition and decay—a pulse stirred.

She had never chased wealth. She had merely seduced King Ninos and used that position to ascend. She had never lusted for authority—but with her husband dead, power fell into her lap. Prestige had meant little—but her name etched itself into legend regardless.

A woman of contradiction. Decay and ambition interwoven.

Even at death, Semiramis had never truly known what she wanted. Yet now, staring into Shen He's eyes, she saw a familiar madness.

Perhaps all she had longed for... was simply to live.

"Then, Empress Semiramis." Shen He's voice softened as he asked the decisive question. "What is your answer?"

"Didn't Gu already reply?" she answered, breaking from memory's hold. Her delicate neck arched gracefully as she asserted, "You are intriguing. Your wish will be granted by Gu. Besides, given the circumstances... Gu has no reason to refuse."

There was no equality between them, not yet—but that imbalance didn't bother the Empress. The knowledge imprinted into her summoning matrix was clear: her time as a heroic spirit was over. Her future would unfold here, as a Servant in this world.

"It seems I don't need to regret anything after all." Shen He let out a subtle sigh of relief.

He hadn't expected his plan of subtle detachment to work so well. Gazing at the languid beauty before him, he reminded himself: cold indifference would serve best in the future.

"By the way… is this your room?" Semiramis asked coolly, letting her sharp gaze drift around the space. "You already have a wife? Or are we talking about a lover? A mistress?"

The Empress was not one to mistake the details of a power structure.

Even if the faint lingering scent meant little, the arrangement of personal items in the room clearly pointed to another woman holding residence—and likely authority—here.

Not jealousy. Merely dominance.

To Semiramis, there could not be another woman above her in status.

"It's a lover," Shen He answered without catching the nuance in her voice. He smiled faintly. "I'll take you to meet the other followers. You should familiarize yourself with the situation. To be honest... things are a bit hectic. Your welcome banquet might have to wait."

Now was not the time for celebrations.

When it came, the welcome feast might be merged with the victory celebration—once their campaign concluded.

"Your lover is a Servant as well? I'd like to meet her. Hmph." Semiramis gave a dismissive snort, but the glint in her eyes was far from casual.

"What—"

Shen He opened his mouth but immediately thought better of it. No good could come from asking.

News of a newly summoned follower spread quickly. One after another, the followers assigned to Shen He's command in this reality—Marvel Earth-Θ—made their way to the central chamber.

"A Heroic Spirit?" Jeanne's eyes brightened as she caught sight of Semiramis. "That's wonderful. In this world too, we are comrades from the same home."

The saint of the later generation?

Semiramis only needed a glance to size up Jeanne d'Arc. She instantly understood her role—and the closeness she shared with Shen He. A glimmer of malice flickered across her refined expression.

"If the Lord truly exists," she murmured softly, voice as smooth as silk laced with arsenic, "then those who murder others for their own ambitions... would surely face divine punishment."

Even Shen He raised a brow.

The line was designed to provoke. It denied the authority of the Lord in front of a known saint—and simultaneously accused Shen He of unforgivable sins. Had Jeanne been more devout, the room might have erupted in battle.

But instead...

It was Jeanne d'Arc who stepped forward—standing protectively in front of Shen He, facing down the Empress with unwavering serenity.

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