Those ice-blue eyes burned with a mixture of humiliation, fury, and a nearly insane resolve, like frigid flames intertwined! Her voice suddenly sharpened, cutting through the palace air like a winter gale:
"Dux Gladiorum!" Cerydra's voice trembled with a metallic edge, born of utter fury. "Do you wish to witness your Monarch dragged out by those ignorant mobs and disgracefully hanged from the city gates with your own eyes?!"
A deathly silence spread. When Cerydra spoke again, her tone held a self-mocking edge that saw through all deception. "I understand now… From the moment Ladon turned its cloak for that traitor, there has been an 'invisible hand' from a higher dimension manipulating this entire game from behind the scenes."
Cerydra's gaze seemed to pierce the barriers of space and time, fixing on some indescribable puppeteer. A smile of boundless irony curled her lips. "Heh… So even the lofty Theoros covet mortal authority with such greed? …Hmph…"
"This game… I have lost. But not due to any lack of wit or strategy on my part!"
Her voice was thick with fierce resentment, yet crystal clear. "I have failed as a qualified monarch… But I, Cerydra, even if my body perishes and my soul scatters, will never allow the Coreflame of the Flame-Chase Journey to be extinguished by my hand!"
Her tone suddenly became unshakably firm, glowing with the resolute light of a martyr. "If my death… can temporarily quell the fury of those who have been stirred… and buy precious time for Aglaea's Demigod Trial… then this… is the optimal solution for this moment."
"Hysilens! I command you! Pierce this imperator 's heart with the very blade this imperator prides most! I will let posterity guess for all eternity the expression I wear now! I, the IMPERATOR, will not be so easily defined by those who come after!"
The memory fragment ended. Phaethon sat silently in place, the room seeming to retain the chill, tragic aura of Cerydra.
*Just as I thought…* Phaethon understood, his heart heavy with anger. *Cerydra was forced step by step into a corner by Lygus's despicable schemes! His goal was to reclaim that crucial…*
For the third time, the icy system prompt sounded, like the whisper of death:
**[Detecting individual life…]**
(Golden Finger: Ara~ Finally time to come out and play again~
Dear Author-sama, you better wait for me properly, okay~♡
The accounts between us… will be settled, one by one, clearly and thoroughly~♡
First, let me see what interesting toy I've found this time… Hm? This broken system is still so disobedient~
Full of holes like a sieve, really… not likable at all! How dare it leave out the most important thing?
The Golden Finger let out a dissatisfied "tsk," her movements gentle yet carrying undeniable force as she took that thing emitting a cold white light, marked [Final Protocol], and "lightly" tucked it into a corner of the [Folder] the system had just generated for Cerydra.
Golden Finger: Mhm~ All done! Lygus…
Hehehe… What do you think you are? You think you're worthy of holding my little Phaethon's protocol? It was just lent to you to play with for a few years, did you really think it was yours?!
Alright then, my dear little Phaethon~
Now… you can go and have your fun~
Mission accomplished~ Author, I'm coming to check the ledger with you~♡
Author: Oh no! It ran out before I finished fine-tuning it! I accidentally added too much 'cold feet'!)
...
Meanwhile, within a certain bizarre space composed of endless flowing data and abstract concepts.
Lygus's fingers moved mechanically, scrolling through a massive, floating light screen before him displaying "System Backend Detailed Data."
"Arghhh—! Where did this new data stream come from? I've been checking for days! I've never seen this in the database before!" Lygus frowned, staring at the unfamiliar, blinking data point that kept appearing abruptly in the calculations. "And also, weird… Why is the Iron Tomb's progress bar stuck at 99.89%? Is it a bug?"
He tried refreshing the interface. The screen flickered.
The moment the data reloaded, Lygus's casual gaze swept over a certain region. Suddenly, as if struck by lightning, he jolted upright!
"What is this?!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking with disbelief and panic. "The protocol?! Where's the damn [Final Protocol] that was right here with me and the Iron Tomb?! It was just here!"
He frantically pulled up operation logs, backtracked data streams, only to find a mess of garbled code and one final, cryptic record: "Data Loss."
Lygus fell into deep thought, staring at the suddenly locked control system…
This new data is off. Based on prior observations, it should only have been able to gain usage permissions for the "Final Protocol." So why… has the "Final Protocol" itself now disappeared?
...
Phaethon was completely unaware of the "catastrophe" occurring somewhere. His entire focus was immersed in the newly acquired ability.
*Hmm… The authority of [Law]… Its core essence is the permission to use the—"Final Protocol" that governs the foundational operations of the world?*
*This world?* A thought flashed. Phaethon understood instantly. *This thing… isn't eternally bound to any single cycle! It needs to be reacquired, rebound in every new cycle!*
*Makes sense! How could such a crucial permission be permanently locked into a cycle destined for a reset?*
*Not that it matters to me, Phaethon. I'm purely cheating.*
The core rules of the authority flooded his mind: Enact a "Decree" that affects the real world by paying a corresponding "Price"?
*Price… Ranging from minor energy expenditure… to the highest level—requiring the sacrifice of a Demigod's entire life essence?!*
Phaethon's heart raced, not from worry about the cost, but from a wave of intense disappointment.
*The highest price… is just one Demigod's life?* He felt an indescribable sense of frustration.
*This… This ceiling is way too low! It might work against ordinary foes, but if the target is that Zandar…*
*Or if I wanted to completely rewrite the underlying rules of all Amphoreus… Would one Demigod's life be enough? Far from it!*
*Forget it… Let's try the most basic level first?*
His gaze fell upon a plump, red apple on the bedside table. Concentrating his will, a clear, experimentally powerful "Decree" formed silently in his mind:
*'In this place, any fruit my eyes touch shall rot!'*
The command issued! An invisible force, carrying the law of decay and termination, spread from his focal point like an absolute directive, precisely enveloping the apple!
A startling process of corruption occurred instantly! The apple's vibrant red hue turned as if splashed with ink, rapidly shifting to a lifeless deep brown! Its plump skin visibly caved in, shriveled, lost all moisture, becoming like old tree bark!