The singing was melodious and moving, but the lyrics were loaded with satirical homage.
Eavesdropping on the commotion from afar, Sinora was the first to break, nearly spewing a mouthful of coffee.
The corner of Sigrid's mouth twitched.
And Boss Cat, who happened to be strolling by, stared with wide eyes.
"Who wrote those lyrics?" Toryardo asked.
Lanqi didn't speak, but Boss Cat's gaze had already locked onto him.
"Meow, your whole life has been ruined by Old Sang."
Boss Cat felt that the Lanqi standing here today was largely shaped by Askesan.
In contrast, Loren, the dean, had barely taught Lanqi anything useful.
Who was the true mentor and who was the sham was obvious at a glance.
"Many years later, I would still often recall that distant afternoon when Professor Teresa spoke of the sealing stone tablets in her Magic Genealogy class at Ikerite Academy."
Lanqi looked down at his reflection in the coffee, his thoughts drifting back to more than a year ago.
In his very first class upon entering the academy, a boy with little talent heard the name of the man standing above hundreds of millions of lives. Amid ice and snow, a contemporary legend demonstrated the pinnacle of the world's strongest sealer to the legend of the future. Crossing the bounds of time, space, and memory, the gray-robed pope at the story's end took the person he loved to receive his mentor's blessing.
He began recounting his story to everyone.
"Son of a meow, if I hadn't followed you the whole way, I might've actually believed that's how it went down," Boss Cat grumbled and cursed.
"Well, tell me: is any of it untrue?" Lanqi countered.
"Ah, meow-meow-meow."
Boss Cat couldn't be bothered to argue with him. Leaping down from the windowsill, it darted off to the back kitchen in a flash.
The three of them watched Boss Cat leave, then returned to chatting, eating breakfast, and watching the show.
Not far away behind the restaurant counter, Pranay was meticulously wiping a wine goblet until it gleamed bright enough to reflect the sky outside the window. Sinora bustled in front of the dessert display case, arranging freshly baked croissants and muffins in neat rows, preparing for the upcoming morning rush.
"Speaking of which, after you left the Northern Continent, the Mourning branch got in touch with me," Sigrid said, continuing their conversation about the Northern Continent as if something had just occurred to her.
"Bishop of Mourning Yamiles?"
Lanqi recalled that after he left the Protos Empire, Sigrid had stayed behind in the Northern Continent on her own for roughly half a year.
Back then, during the decisive battle in the parliament hall of the Protos Empire, after Askesan voluntarily forfeited his candidacy, Bishop of Mourning Yamiles followed suit and dropped out as well.
Afterward, the Bishop of Mourning vanished without a trace.
Since there was no bitter grudge between her and Sigrid—merely a competitive rivalry—Sigrid never pursued her.
A minor detail like that sounded insignificant.
Yet it might have some bearing on what they had been discussing earlier.
For many years, Sigrid and Askesan had clashed across the fertile eastern region of the Northern Continent.
The Bishop of Mourning and another enigmatic bishop held sway near the Theocracy in the heart of the continent.
As for the chaotic west, rumor had it that only the Bishop of Extinction operated there.
Venturing further north required crossing past the Theocracy.
Known to the world as "walking natural disasters," the Cardinal Bishops possessed an exceptionally keen sense for impending calamity.
"I also heard from the Great Sage that Bishop of Mourning Yamiles made an agreement with her beforehand: regardless of whether the Mourning branch came out on top, they would never become hostile toward the Protos Empire."
Sigrid held out a hand, gesturing a height of around one and a half meters.
Both Lanqi and Toryardo understood that she was referring to Isis; Great Sage Isis of the Protos Empire was about that tall.
"A contract where she voluntarily surrendered her own interests?" Toryardo asked, puzzled.
As a veteran of the Holy War, even though he had never fought Isis directly, he was well aware that her elven contract magic carried binding enforcement mechanisms once signed.
As long as both parties consented and signed, any breach would result in a catastrophic backlash.
"That's a steep price to pay. The Bishop of Mourning seemed desperate to legitimize the Resurrection Church within the Protos Empire, regardless of which bishop ultimately won," Lanqi analyzed based on the terms. "The provisions of that agreement were entirely advantageous to the Protos Empire, imposing only potential constraints on the Mourning branch."
Even he had never signed such an unequal contract.
"Of course, as events proved, Askesan winning was unacceptable," Sigrid added. "I believe Yamiles was also played by Askesan in the beginning."
It was only when she and Lanqi made an unexpected trip to the northern city-state of Bandera that they realized Askesan's original goal had always been to conspire with Grand Duke Morotian to undermine the Protos Empire.
"That covenant obviously brought no benefits to Yamiles—unless she had an ulterior motive," Lanqi deduced from his professional experience. "For instance, perhaps she was after some treasure from the Protos Empire, or someone instructed her to do it, or maybe she foresaw something through another prophet..."
He laid out several possibilities.
According to Pranay's assessment at the time, there were other prophets on the Northern Continent akin to Marquis Heriteer, the Seventh Progenitor—perhaps even more than one. That was why their visions interfered with and clashed against the future Lanqi knew and the future Pranay saw.
Every prophet in the world possessed unique abilities and methods of foresight. When visions continually interfered with one another, none of their prophecies remained completely accurate. When the decisive moment arrived, it ultimately came down to planning and adaptability.
And prophets were always the hardest people to track down. Pranay, for example, had only ended up in prison after the fall of the demon nation, while Marquis Heriteer was captured only after Blood Moon City was breached.
"Hiss..."
Toryardo scratched his head.
He seemed poised to speak, but seeing Lanqi and Sigrid still dissecting the details of the contract, he held his tongue for the moment.
"Do you know something, Toryardo?" Lanqi caught his reaction.
"Let Sigrid finish first. The three of us probably saw things from entirely different angles," Toryardo said, motioning for Sigrid to go on.
"All right," Sigrid nodded, taking the opportunity to shovel another mouthful of breakfast into her mouth.
"So what did Yamiles get in return?" Lanqi didn't believe for a second that Yamiles would sign such an uneven treaty without demanding something from Great Sage Isis.
"You actually guessed right." Sigrid set down her fork and pondered for a moment before continuing. "Afterward, she asked the Great Sage for an official envoy credential personally signed by the imperial royal family, as well as the Protos Empire's formal recognition of the Resurrection Church's legitimacy."
"That's it?" Toryardo stared, dumbfounded.
"She must have had her reasons for asking for those things. Perhaps from her perspective, it served a much longer-term plan." Lanqi, too, had assumed the Bishop of Mourning would demand an exorbitant price, yet she hadn't. But even after turning it over in his mind, he couldn't deduce the exact logic behind it.
"The full story behind what happened on the Northern Continent would probably take hundreds of chapters if written as a novel. Don't waste your brain cells on it—as long as the outcome was good, that's enough," Sigrid said, patting Lanqi on the shoulder with an amused sigh.
"Fair point." Lanqi's brow relaxed in relief.
"Gloria is handling the specifics anyway, so I didn't pay much attention to it," Sigrid agreed.
Since she couldn't figure it out, she simply stopped thinking about it.
Life was too sweet here to worry about the north.
"How is it that you've blended in so completely too?" Lanqi asked, looking at her. She seemed entirely content to lounge around the Hutton Kingdom with no intention of returning.
"Behold my student monthly pass!" Sigrid pulled out her cherished Ikerite Academy student ID and monthly transit pass, proudly brandishing them before Lanqi.
"Sig, seventeen years old, exchange student..." Lanqi murmured, reading the card's details and biting his tongue.
Poor Gloria, the direct retainer, had no idea that her Cardinal Bishop had completely abandoned the enterprise to her.
Calling her a direct retainer hardly did her justice anymore—she was practically the executive vice saintess of the Domination branch.
"In any case—" Sigrid dragged out her tone, preventing Lanqi from reading any further from her ID, "I am now Side, who is younger than you, weaker than you, and needs you to show me the way."
"Yes, yes, of course. I'll do my best to raise your favorability," Lanqi replied with a smile, adhering to his lifelong habit.
He reached out, picked up a roast chicken leg, and took a bite. The crispy, savory skin and succulent roasted meat burst with rich flavor across his palate.
Pure satisfaction.
"Breakfast: half of what makes life worth living," Lanqi declared blissfully.
Chapter 887