However, that faint glimmer of light lingered around Shiayar. It left the last vestiges of life force within Shiayar's body, allowing him not to die outright but to retain a sliver of ability to act.
[One-time item "Night Watcher's Dagger" has shattered. You have entered a "Battle Continuation" state lasting thirty seconds.]
[Night Watcher's Dagger]
[Item Category: One-time Extraordinary Tool]
He had used an item—the Night Watcher's Dagger!
This was not a trump card that could reverse the tide of battle; it was merely a means of clinging to life. Even when triggered, it had no ability to heal or restore wounds. It simply refused death for thirty seconds, leaving just a sliver of health. Once half a minute passed, everything would return to normal, and he would still be in this gravely injured state. Given the vast gap in strength between Shiayar and Isadella, even with this extra thirty seconds of continuation, the outcome of the battle would not change. But what Shiayar intended to do was never to defeat or kill Isadella.
At the cost of abandoning all resistance and willingly facing death, Shiayar had used his own blood to rouse Isadella from her obstinate, divinely apathetic state. This was the most dangerous element in the plan Jayee had devised after countless calculations. No one knew to what extent the soul circuit of the King of the Imaginary Zone had been corroded by time and the Crimson Red Moon, or if even a sliver of humanity remained, capable of being awakened. Even Shiayar could not be certain. Fortunately, his gamble paid off.
Shiayar felt his body gently embraced.
What met his eyes were not the indifferent and merciless divine eyes of the King of the Imaginary Zone. Instead, they were a pair of beautiful red eyes, unseen for a thousand years, belonging to the Second Princess Isadella. They held glistening tears.
"Even though the 'me' from before is no longer the Second Princess or the Knight King you knew, but merely another existence carrying the name Isadella," a clear, cold voice sounded.
Isadella gazed at the black-clothed, bloodstained youth in her arms. Her previous air of detachedly looking down upon mortals was gone, replaced by an undeniable tremor in her expression.
"For someone like me, was it truly worth you going to such lengths, paying such a price?"
However, her questioning words were cut short.
"That winter night of the Lantern Festival, I made a vow in my heart," Shiayar began, his voice fading with blood loss, yet his dark eyes remained as bright as the morning star, just as they had been during their first encounter on the day of the royal selection. "On the next Lantern Festival, a time symbolizing reunion, we must all gather again in the residence of the Black Lily District—not a single one of us missing.
"Even if Your Highness has changed into someone I do not recognize, as long as I always remember who you used to be, that alone is enough."
The boy's answer struck Isadella to her core, leaving her dazed for a long while.
After a long time, the Princess finally gave a bitter smile and shook her head. "I'm sorry... but I'm afraid I can't go back."
Her gaze fell upon the Sacred Sword in her hand. "Establishing the Imaginary Zone meant creating an existence intolerable to the laws of this world and the river of history. I have become too deeply entangled here; the time I've obstructed and tampered with is already irreversible. Even with the protection of the Sacred Sword... I can't hold on for much longer.
"Perhaps in five years, or maybe ten, this Imaginary Zone will be rectified by history's Corrective Force. And when history is set back on its rightful course, as the King of the Imaginary Zone, I will be crushed by the Corrective Force without any resistance, and all traces of my existence will be erased.
"This is the irrevocable sin I bear. From the very beginning, there was no possibility of turning back for me."
Isadella's words were somber, yet held little regret. From the moment she killed Merlin and established the Imaginary Zone, she had never considered turning back. And now, before being erased by the Corrective Force, before being forgotten by the entire world, simply seeing the young man she had yearned for was more than enough to bring her contentment.
"I can no longer return," she said, her voice growing softer. "And by your side, there is that young girl from the Ingritt family, the one called Winter Flower; there is the Gray-Silver Witch of the White Tower... and many other people and things worthy of your affection."
The moment Shiayar revealed his identity, she knew with absolute clarity. Whether as the Empire's Second Princess or as the Knight King, her relationship with Shiayar was nothing more than that of pure, trustworthy comrades, a bond between a superior and subordinate. Not lovers. No matter how intense and profound her own twisted yearning for Cain might be, it was still nothing but her own unrequited longing. From beginning to end, Shiayar never belonged to her alone. He was also the entire world to the young girl who had forged a contract with the Sacred Spear, and the entirety of life to the Gray-Silver Witch.