Chapter 118 Under the Moon, the Sword Wind Rises. She released her grip, letting the "sword" sink into the mud...
Mother, I too can drink the water of grace.
Similar words, which had served as Eleanor's death warrant in her second life, sparked a different kind of brilliance in this one.
Eva rested her head on her hand. Her eyes were glazed over, as if she were watching something strange fly in from the void, so her daughter stepped forward.
Her voice was completely drowned out by the laughter and cheers nearby; perhaps no one but the two of them could hear it.
"I received a divine revelation during my illness, a warning from the god of royalty—Ophelia is about to inherit Noranna and will witness its destruction."
The god of wisdom has bestowed upon me much inspiration, while the god of war has granted me the power to protect.
She spoke these words to Eva in a calm tone.
According to legend, it is quite upright and simple, but if this is an excuse to become a princess, it is really too audacious.
However, Eva didn't laugh; she understood the realistic aspect of what was said.
Yes, Ophelia is about to inherit this country... that was indeed the trajectory she originally envisioned.
She pushed aside the stunned princess beside her and stared into her daughter's eyes.
Those are not a child's eyes.
Is she Eleanor?
Is it Him, or it?
"Who are you?"
“I am Eleanor, your daughter, the heir of Norlana, and the savior of this land.”
Eleanor met his gaze with a stare, her words utterly arrogant: “Mother, my king, Ophelia is not fit to support this crumbling palace. Let me offer you, all living beings of this world, and the observers in the stars, a miracle.”
This is truly unbelievable, even 100% ridiculous!
Eva's throat was sore from laughing so hard, otherwise she would have cheered and applauded this performance of summoning a ghost.
But Eleanor sat down next to her before that, looking directly into her eyes like an equal friend, and spoke softly.
“Let me prove it to you. Perform the ritual of the Water of Grace for me, and after the ritual, give me a sword. I will use it to defeat Ophelia.”
These words were much somberer than the previous ones, after all, myths are full of stories about shattering stars and swallowing mountains and rivers.
However, the conditions Eleanor proposed at this moment were nothing short of miraculous, considering that she had only just turned 10.
A 10-year-old child is indeed suitable to drink the blessed water, but physical development takes time.
Even if those favored by God can gain a certain degree of enhancement after drinking the secret medicine, suddenly growing taller and developing more muscle, it doesn't mean they can quickly catch up to the level of an adult.
Ophelia was already an adult and had received more than a decade of elite education.
Mediocrity does not equate to stupidity, nor does it mean being so weak as to be defeated by a 10-year-old child.
“Ha…” Even Eva, who was “biased” towards Ophelia, had to admit: “That’s interesting. If Ophelia is going to lose to you at 10 years old, then it would be better to let her succeed to the throne than to drag a stray dog along.”
Disdainful - sarcastic remarks devoid of any tenderness.
Eleanor was neither angry, nor disgusted, nor mocking. She simply looked calmly into her mother's eyes, as if she had read through a difficult and obscure article over countless years.
Eva stood up, her hand barely moving before she couldn't help but look at her daughter. "If you win, you can become the crown princess; but what if you lose?"
Eleanor met her gaze with a slight smile: "If Ophelia wins, the loser shall die. If I win, the loser shall live."
"oh?"
Eva raised an eyebrow and asked in surprise, "You think you're taking away Ophelia's fate, so you're making concessions to her?"
"No, I have come to change the fate of everyone."
The girl—the still-grown monarch—grasped King Norlana's hand and said sincerely, "I want to build a kingdom where the weak can live with peace of mind, and to create a future where there are no losers."
That's impossible.
Eva raised her lips as if to retort, but under Eleanor's bright eyes, she forgot what she wanted to say.
Pain, anxiety, and the numbness brought on by alcohol stimulated her nerves, causing her thoughts to sink deeper and deeper.
Fine, fine, let me witness this so-called revelation.
"Okay, I grant your request."
Wang ignored his daughter's figure and walked towards the messy candlelight.
"Everyone—" She casually picked up a cup from someone's hand and raised it high towards everyone.
“My youngest daughter, Eleanor, has received a divine revelation in a dream! She will drink the blessed water—please gather here tomorrow evening to witness the ceremony.”
Eva laughed jokingly as she said this: "Oh, she will also fight Ophelia under the blessing of the God of War, hahahahaha."
Her hearty laughter silenced the entire hall.
A few seconds later, applause broke out all around. Everyone sewed their mouths shut and clapped until their palms turned red.
"how?"
Eva turned around without any attempt to hide it, lifting her daughter, who had followed her, high up so that she could see the eyes around her in her "pampering".
Surprise, indifference, confusion, profundity, irony... these gazes all avoided the girl's calm eyes, and they also had a similar illusion to Eva.
Those were not the eyes of a child, nor were they ordinary.
Why does Princess Eleanor possess such transcendent compassion? Has she truly received some kind of divine revelation?
The music continued without the king's permission.
Amidst the melodious music, the child, who had been lifted high, lowered his head and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Mother, don't worry, I will heal your body too."
“…” Eva did not respond immediately; her lips were still smiling, but her eyes instantly froze.
"That was neither a threat nor a deal, and it has nothing to do with tomorrow's showdown."
The girl patted the back of her hand, and King Nolana silently put her down at his feet.
The child, who was only as tall as her legs, held her little finger and said.
"I will give you the prescription for removing the toxins tonight. I hope you can support me in rebuilding a medical team that combines the past and the future, so that we can produce the medicine as quickly as possible with their help."
"...Where's the list? Would you be willing to give me the prescriptions and the list before the battle begins?"
The king knelt down in full view of everyone, bringing his eyes level with his daughter's.
Their eyes looked so alike in the candlelight, their translucent irises reflecting the glittering fragments of gold like shooting stars.
"Of course, I will give it all to you before the ceremony begins."
Eleanor smiled and shook her fingers twice as promised.
......
The evening breeze brushed against the back of my neck, taking away some of the warmth.
Eleanor hummed a song as she walked back along the skybridge, her servants behind her silent with fear. Coral walked close behind, but every now and then she would give the impression that she wanted to say something.
She said nothing in the end, but slowly inhaled in her heart: Why would the king say such things in public? To make Princess Eleanor, who is only ten years old, a princess!
Coral found it hard to accept such sudden favor, especially since the king was demanding that the ten-year-old princess compete against the twenty-year-old Princess Ophelia?!
Even if His Highness drinks the blessed water, so what? He hasn't even touched a sword. If he can win, he can only pray for the Mother Goddess's mercy...
"Coral, don't cry."
The girl didn't turn around, but her gentle voice clearly indicated that she was silently shedding tears.
"Believe me."
"Hmm..." Coral wiped away her tears. Even though her mood had improved a lot thanks to the princess's comfort, she still couldn't help but worry.
Even a tiger won't eat its own cubs.
Her Highness is only 10 years old. It's normal for her to lose. The King can't kill her; at most, he can disqualify her from the throne.
Coral gently pounded her chest to comfort herself: It's okay, it's just going from a princess to a queen, no big deal!
......
rustle.
Eleanor opened her eyes in the middle of the night, quietly got out of bed, and tiptoed to the window.
Sure enough, there was a small shadow there, and a moment later a hand squeezed through the crack and hesitantly lifted a corner of the windowpane.
Eleanor smiled silently and reached out to pinch her fingertips below.
*Slap*
Andra, standing outside the window, was startled and nearly dropped her hand.
However, she quickly realized what was happening and, while lifting the window, grasped the princess's fingers in return.
"Shhh."
Eleanor made a pushing motion, braced herself with both hands, and leaped half her body out of the open window.
"!"
Andra reached out at the right moment, catching the little princess around the waist, and they landed on the grass together.
The moonlight was bright, and the young man's handsome face flushed red. He quickly composed himself and earnestly took the princess's hand.
As Andra helped her up, he quickly said, "Your Highness, I heard you are going to have a duel with Princess Ophelia tomorrow?"
Ophelia's swordsmanship is nothing special, but she's an adult, so beating a sickly child who's never practiced swordsmanship would be a piece of cake.
She knelt down on one knee, pressed her forehead against Eleanor's hand, and whispered, "Let me help you."
To be honest, when Andra heard news such as "Princess Eleanor was lifted up by the King" and "The Princess is going to become a princess," she felt a surge of anguish and instinctive disgust.
The frustration that arose at that moment far outweighed the failure of the plan, as if... as if some pure desire had been altered and could never be returned to.
But those thoughts were overshadowed by a heavier worry.
The little princess in her mind was delicate and fragile; how could she possibly defeat anyone who had drunk the secret potion? Let alone an adult.
Therefore—if Her Highness Eleanor needs her, she is willing to risk acting as her sword, and depending on the circumstances, seriously wound or even assassinate Ophelia before things happen.
How could I have such a thought?!
A flash of inspiration struck Andra's mind, stinging her brain: Yes, how could she be so irrational?
Even if she is much stronger than Ophelia, attempting to assassinate the Princess of Nolana in the Nolana palace would be a sure way to die!
She grasped the princess's hand, regretting her impulsiveness.
But it was merely regret; Andra wouldn't go back on her word, unwilling to break her promise to Eleanor.
“…” Eleanor did not answer immediately. She withdrew her hand and slowly stroked Andra’s hair, one stroke at a time.
"Don't worry, Andra."
Stop looking so dazed, vulnerable, and worried. It makes you tired... doesn't it?
The girl let go of her hand and walked towards the big tree not far away.
Andra watched her walk to the tree, where the little princess tiptoed and broke off a branch.
It should have been very difficult for her to break such a flexible branch, but with a crisp crack, the branch fell off on its own like a ripe fruit.
The girl didn't notice this; her entire attention was on the princess.
The little princess had a smile on her lips from the very beginning. Eleanor lifted the branch and traced an elegant arc with her feet.
Crack! —Smack!
The moonlight deepened, and the clouds and mist dispersed.
The little princess used a tree branch as a sword, swirling it in a sharp arc.
How long does it take for an ordinary person to reach the pinnacle of skill?
Five years to get started, ten years to become proficient? Twenty years to master... it's hard to say. Fortunately, Eleanor's previous life wasn't mediocre.
Her memory can remember every detail, and her perception allows her to review countless times over time, moving the sword's edge along the same trajectory time and time again.
The wind provided her with the perfect angle to strike, and experience and perception wove together the threads of destiny, leading her into the world of genius.
Ten years, twenty years, thirty years... In those busy, peaceful, and painful days and nights, how many times did she dance with her sword, pretending that her beloved had never left?
Her extraordinary senses and memories had left her, but the experiences deep within her soul still embraced her, bathing her in the moonlight with the dancing girl.
Snap, rustle, rustle.
Leaves drifted down along with tears from the corners of her eyes. The girl turned around and smiled, saying, "The gods have bestowed upon me exquisite swordsmanship."
Andra's shoulders jolted, barely managing to recover from the shock. She took a breath and whispered, "Truly worthy of the power of the God of War..."
"No." The little princess shook her head, released her grip, and let the "sword" fall into the soil.
"It is love."
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Author's Note: Before writing this chapter, I always thought I "knew everything": Andra loved Eleanor, no matter what Eleanor was like, I loved her most essential intelligence and kindness - but I, the observer and recorder, thought that Andra's true love was indeed the original Eleanor.
That is the perfect lover that no one can defeat: the most virtuous wife, the most intimate sister, the most understanding confidante, the most romantic lover, the most powerful supporter, the friend who supports you all the way, and even the most delicate and lovely little princess who needs to be protected.
As for Eleanor in the Ares storyline, I originally thought she was "Eleanor whom Andra dislikes the most."
Because of Andra's deadly pride and her dazzling dreams, she would probably find it difficult to love an epic lover—one who is as powerful as herself or even more powerful (especially since she naturally prefers Eleanor's original appearance, the girlish charm she had before her time travel).
But when I actually started writing, all I felt was—who could not love Eleanor, the God of War?!
Anyway, I'll continue to write down what I see. It's getting exciting!
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