Chapter 295: Stellar Realignment

With Elizabeth’s thunderous declaration—“I am the King’s Authority!”—the coronation ceremony came to a close.

A strange silence filled the hall. It was the dead calm after a storm, laced with lingering fear and a deeply repressed sense of humiliation and helplessness.

Everything had settled. Elizabeth, the once-overlooked princess, now stood atop the pinnacle of power in the Victoria Kingdom, crowned with a platinum diadem and holding the Royal Scepter.

And the man who had orchestrated this monumental upheaval, Lu Yan, still sat at ease upon that golden throne above all others, as if handing over the scepter—the symbol of the kingdom’s lifeblood—had been nothing more than passing along a trivial toy.

To Lu Yan, that was essentially the truth.

The true value of the Royal Scepter lay in its absolute suppressive force against those on the Path of Kingship, and its fragmented remnant of singularity.

The former could be borrowed or forcibly seized whenever he wished. The latter, while powerful, offered no direct augmentation to his own power system.

Returning it to Elizabeth was both a symbolic gesture of support and a necessary move. After all, he needed a legitimate proxy to rule the kingdom.

As for whether returning the scepter would cause him to lose control?

Lu Yan couldn’t care less. In fact, he welcomed it.

Elizabeth was intelligent—of that he had no doubt.

She knew better than anyone that her ascension was entirely due to Lu Yan’s support. Outwardly, the Victoria Kingdom might now bow to its new queen, but beneath the surface, most of the old aristocracy and reigning dukes seethed with discontent, viewing her submissive behavior to foreign power as disgraceful betrayal.

Not to mention her royal siblings, hidden in the shadows, cursing her every step.

In such a turbulent and uncertain situation, Elizabeth’s smartest—and only—option was to cling tightly to Lu Yan and the unfathomable forces behind the Underworld, using their might to suppress opposition and solidify her rule.

Of course, Lu Yan also understood that with her cunning and aptitude, Elizabeth would fully stabilize her control over Victoria given enough time and resources.

But sheer coercion and external aid could only secure loyalty temporarily.

So, at the very moment she stood at the peak of power, Lu Yan didn’t hesitate to toss out a dream big enough to drive any ambitious soul insane—

The Path to Godhood.

With the insight gained from his mastery over death and his encounters with several fragments of singularity—including the Undying King—Lu Yan had come to understand this secretive version’s transcendent system in great depth.

Each transcendent path corresponded to a metaphysical source—be it a natural phenomenon, a societal construct, or an ancient and powerful being.

If a path’s source lacked completeness or strength, it couldn’t support ascension to its peak. No matter how diligently its users advanced, they would never reach godhood.

Only paths that held the quality of singularity had the potential to reach Sequence 0—to touch the domain of True Gods.

As Lu Yan revealed to Elizabeth, the Path of Kingship was one such path brimming with potential.

It spanned the seven great human kingdoms, supported by vast popular foundations. Its source was not a deity but the concept of hierarchy—an ancient principle born with civilization itself.

The Kingship Path was entwined with human societal order and, theoretically, could birth a god who wielded ultimate sovereign authority.

But reality had always been cruel.

Perhaps due to endless inner conflicts among humanity, or perhaps because the seven existing True Gods feared the rise of an eighth who might rival or even topple them, the singularity of Kingship was shattered.

The original Royal Scepter had been split into seven fragments, each embedded within the royal legacy of the seven kingdoms.

Every kingdom possessed only one-seventh of the complete singularity.

This incomplete power allowed practitioners to reach Sequence 2, the Earthly Angel level, and found powerful monarchies—but no higher.

Sequence 2 was the terminal point of the fragmented path. No matter how mighty a kingdom became, it remained inferior to the Seven Great Churches—each wielding True Gods and full singular paths.

The grand vision Lu Yan presented to Elizabeth was as magnificent as it was bloodstained:

To conquer the other six kingdoms—not merely for territory or wealth, but to seize their fragments of the Kingship Path, the remaining six Royal Scepters.

Once the seven fragments were reunited and used to build an unprecedented empire, the road to the God of Kingship might finally open before her.

Had Lu Yan spoken of this before he demonstrated the ability to crush the entire Victoria royal family and elevate her to the throne—before he subdued even a Hidden Evil God—Elizabeth might have been stunned by the secrets, might have believed them, but would never have dared dream of such madness.

To conquer all kingdoms? Unite the continent?

Madness. Sheer fantasy. Especially when the Seven Churches would never allow a rising empire to threaten their theological dominion.

But now—everything was different.

She had witnessed Lu Yan humiliate the Victoria royal family, forcefully elevate a nobody princess to queen, and suppress a Hidden Evil God.

A seed named “possibility” had been planted deep in her heart.

If the Underworld wielded such terrifying strength, then opposing even the Seven Churches—might that not be… achievable?

With the Underworld as her foundation, the path to a divine throne was no longer an unreachable mirage.

Igniting the inferno of ambition in Elizabeth’s heart—her thirst for divinity—was Lu Yan’s true purpose.

This ensured that even if he left this Secretive Version, Elizabeth would remain steadfast in supporting the Guild and expanding Underworld worship. It would bind the Victoria Kingdom—and any future conquests—firmly to his chariot.

A queen fueled by godhood’s promise would become his most loyal and most powerful piece.

As everything came to a perfect close, the nobles and royal members—hearts heavy with conflicting emotions—began to retreat from the grand hall that had just witnessed a pivotal moment in history.

Some departed in shock, anger, and humiliation, eager to spread the news that would shake all seven kingdoms.

But there were a few—those keen-eyed, opportunistic nobles—who remained behind, hoping to pledge allegiance early and secure favorable positions in the new regime.

Elizabeth, however, now exuding both ambition and imperial authority, cast a single cold and forceful gaze across the hall.

It was enough.

They felt as though frozen in place, their petty schemes extinguished in reverent fear. They quickly saluted and fled.

In minutes, the once-tense and crowded palace hall was left deserted.

Only the marble pillars, velvet carpets, and the golden throne remained—along with Lu Yan seated above, and Elizabeth standing below, newly crowned.

As stillness reigned and only their breathing filled the air, Elizabeth turned.

Gone was the majesty and burning ambition. What replaced it was an unspeakable reverence and submissive fervor.

She tossed the Royal Scepter onto the velvet carpet with complete disregard.

The royal robe faded in shimmering light, revealing a tighter silk inner dress that traced her exquisite curves.

The ice-cold clarity in her eyes melted into tender devotion. Her lithe form sank to her knees once more before the golden throne—more completely than ever before.

Her forehead nearly touched the floor.

“All that you’ve given me… I can never repay,” she whispered, trembling. “My soul, my body, everything I have and will ever have—I offer to you.”

Time flowed like water.

After ascending to the throne and pledging utter loyalty to Lu Yan, the Victoria Kingdom’s transformation accelerated dramatically.

Under her command, the Guild expanded with explosive speed, spreading from major cities to the entire nation, welcoming artisans, commoners, and disillusioned knights alike.

Underworld worship was no longer hidden—it was officially sanctioned. Elizabeth even decreed the construction of Underworld temples, redirecting resources once belonging to the Steam Church.

The Steam Church remained silent, seemingly turning a blind eye to the Underworld’s rapid growth.

Lu Yan’s operations within the kingdom now proceeded unhindered.

The Guild’s rise created a vast pool of believers. The government provided legality and resources.

This served as the ultimate catalyst, allowing Anna—his emissary on the Path of the Underworld—to rapidly assimilate Sequence 7, the “Judgment Clerk.”

Her aura grew ever more profound. Sequence 6 now seemed just a step away.

Lu Yan could already feel fragments of Sequence 6’s knowledge through their bond.

And the moment Anna advanced, he could officially integrate his six thousand peak Foundation Establishment Yin Soldiers into the Underworld sequence, granting them greater power and order.

For the fledgling divine court of the Underworld, this would be a monumental evolution.

Everything was unfolding perfectly.

The Guild grew. The faith spread. Anna was on the verge of advancement. The Underworld’s structure neared a breakthrough.

And Queen Elizabeth showed pure, unwavering devotion—seeking his teachings with fervent desire every day.

Yet despite all of this, Lu Yan felt a thread of unease.

A quiet, persistent dread tugged at his soul.

And with each passing day, the unease grew.

Even when he focused his mind to trace its source, it was like chasing smoke—an ungraspable mist cloaking the world.

This danger didn’t stem from any enemy or event—it came from something deeper. Something far more fundamental.

It had now been five months since Lu Yan entered the Secretive Version. The version update progress bar had reached 84%.

Just one month remained until the next update.

Night fell over Victoria’s capital.

Lu Yan stood on the royal palace’s highest terrace, hands behind his back, gazing into the starlit heavens.

Though everything appeared to be rising and thriving, tonight—his unease reached its peak.

And then it happened.

The stars above, silent and scattered, suddenly flared with dazzling brilliance.

Then, shockingly, the celestial bodies began to move—slowly, deliberately, aligning themselves not in chaos, but in a sacred, ancient order.

They were returning. Back to positions they had once held in some primordial, long-forgotten age.

And in that moment, Lu Yan felt the shroud of fog that had veiled the Secretive Version for so long begin to lift—rapidly, visibly.

The very laws of this world—once obscured and warped—were now revealing themselves.

His pupils contracted. As the mist peeled away and the stars realigned above, clarity struck him like a lightning bolt.

The source of his unease had finally revealed itself.

“All that sleeps… must one day awaken.”

Vast wills, towering and divine, stirred across the world. Even their subconscious murmurs shone like suns.

Within the Seven Great Churches, the whispers of faithful believers rose in reverent chants.

“The stars realign… and the gods awaken.”

(End of Chapter)