Northern was alone in the room with the Queen now, every other person waiting outside. He had taken the precaution for two reasons: one, he didn't know how this was going to go—what was most likely to happen while trying to extract the Chaos Heart. Two, they were going to cause quite a ruckus once they discovered his methods.

He studied the Queen for a few seconds, taking in the slight tremor in her hands, the way her fingers kept smoothing the bedsheets.

"How do you feel?"

The young lady—granted she was in her sixties but looked like her late thirties—was caught slightly off guard by Northern's question. She was nervous, that much was obvious, though she was trying to hide it behind the composure expected of royalty.

Instead of answering directly, she laughed—a soft, uncertain sound—and looked at Northern.

"How do I feel? I don't know… hopeful?" She observed him more closely, her eyes searching his face for something to hold onto. "It's so difficult to read you, and that's not helping. To be frank…" her brows furrowed, the mask of composure slipping slightly, "this is a bargain. A bargain I don't want my family to participate in. But you've proven yourself already. My husband seems to trust you so deeply, and your diagnosis…" She paused, something raw flickering behind her eyes. "You are the first person to say something is truly wrong with me. And it all came from looking."

The Queen leaned her head back against the pillows and breathed—a long, measured exhale that carried the weight of years spent wondering, hoping, and being told nothing was wrong when she knew, knew, that something was eating her from the inside.

"So, I think it's okay to trust you like my husband does. But that doesn't mean I'm not scared of disappointment… of sudden death…"

She turned and rested her gaze on Northern, her eyes steady despite the fear beneath them.

"If you perceive that I can't make it through whatever it is you'll be doing, promise me you'll stop and call my family in so I can spend my last moments with them."

She closed her eyes peacefully, then opened them again—as if practicing for what might come.

"Those three will not take it easy when they find out I'm gone before they arrive. I feel sorry for them." She turned to Northern, and something almost like amusement touched her lips despite the gravity of her words. "And for you too… if this fails, my husband could turn the entire nation on you out of blind rage…"

Northern smiled, or tried to at least. His smile looked a little bitter, even to himself.

'She's like this and still worried about others.'

The Queen seemed like a genuinely good person, and he could see that the apple truly doesn't fall far from the tree. Roma's stubborn warmth, that instinct to shield others even when she herself needed shielding—it made sense now.

He stood beside her bed and looked into her eyes, a blue light of resolve sparkling in his own.

"Look at me, your majesty. Does this look like the eyes of someone who will fail?"

She looked into his eyes, but he continued before she even had the chance to respond.

"If I was going to fail, I wouldn't have volunteered to help."

He smiled now, genuinely this time. The kind of smile that had convinced far more skeptical people than her.

"I'm going to put you to sleep. When you wake up, you'll have a strong heart and a strong body."

He belatedly asked, "Do you have any sedatives around?"

She pointed, and Northern followed her fingers to the desk at her bedside. He took a small brown bottle and read the runic description etched into its surface, parsing the alchemical notation with practiced ease.

"This should do."

He helped tilt the Queen's head up slightly and poured a small amount of the liquid into her mouth, then laid her back gently. The pillow accepted her weight like it had countless times before—but this time, Northern noted, might be the last time she woke from it. Or the first time she woke truly healthy.

'No pressure.'

In a few seconds, her lids were already growing heavy, her breathing slowing.

Northern watched her struggle to keep her eyes open, that stubborn dignity refusing to surrender even to medicine. When they finally closed and stayed closed, he opened the entrance to the Soul Forge.

The Soul Forge was accessible to whomever he wanted it to be accessible to. But the difference between it and Limitless Void was that except for the echoes, no one could just enter and exit however they wanted. Because of this, he had to send a clone to the Thunderhead Dreadnought—to Lord, specifically.

The clone opened the gate for Lord. He entered the Soul Forge. And now Northern was opening another gate in the room for Lord to come out.

The gate manifested as a gray swirl of energy, churning like smoke caught in a slow whirlpool. From within, a dark-skinned young man with black flowing hair emerged, stepping into the grandiose bedroom as if stepping into enemy territory.

Nebulous Lord looked around curiously, the bright lights reflecting in his deep dark eyes. He recoiled slightly, his face scrunching.

Northern touched his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Too much light… argh." Lord shielded his eyes with one hand, looking very much like he wanted to throw a tantrum but knew exactly before whom he stood. He managed to contain himself, barely.

Then his gaze fixed on the Queen.

Immediately, those deep dark eyes widened, trembling.

Northern had suspected this reaction from the Void Summon, which was why he hadn't said anything beforehand. Better to let Lord discover it himself.

Nebulous Lord was the best one for the actual extraction. Although he didn't have much Chaos in him, he had a great deal of Void—perhaps more than even Tyrant himself. And Void was very capable of accommodating Chaos. The two were compatible in the same body, could coexist without destroying each other. Northern himself had experienced this firsthand.

So, perhaps, Lord could pull off what Northern had done with Chaos and Void. And this was what his plan hinged on—using Nebulous Lord to collect all the vestiges that the Chaos Prince had scattered around.

Hopefully, if Nebulous Lord managed to absorb this Chaos, he would also be able to sense where the other vestiges were. A walking detector. The thought was almost elegant.

The summon pointed at the Queen, his finger trembling with something between hunger and reverence.

"Master… chaos…"

Northern nodded. "I know. That's why I called you here." He tilted his head. "Do you want it?"

Lord's eyes immediately sparked with ravenous interest. "I can eat her?"

Northern dropped a solid hand chop right in the middle of the summon's head, earning a well-deserved groan.

"Extract and absorb the Chaos without harming the woman. Can you do that?"

Lord, still gripping his head with both hands, turned to the unconscious Queen. He tilted his head left, then right, examining her the way a child might examine a puzzle he hadn't asked for.

He turned back to Northern, who had settled into a chair, legs crossed, watching the summon with the patient expectation of someone who had already calculated every possible outcome.

"Master," Nebulous Lord said, then hesitated. "This is really going to be hard."

Northern looked at the Queen. Looked at Nebulous Lord.

"That's why I called you here, dimwit. Since you've become your own person now, how about experiencing some hardship of your own?"

He glared, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

"If anything happens to the Queen—look at me, Lord—you will earn my wrath."

Nebulous Lord trembled. Fearfully, he turned back to the Queen, his expression crumpling like a child being forced to do homework. He mumbled something under his breath that was probably insubordinate, but wisely kept it too quiet to hear.

Northern watched him, unmoved.

'Fear is a fine motivator.'

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.