Chapter 260: I've Grown Up, Sigurd
At the highest observation deck of the headquarters, Kiana gazed at the vast landscape before her, bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun.
A gentle evening breeze caressed her as she stood there in a flowing white dress, her feet in simple white sandals. Leaning against the railing, she looked as if she might drift away with the wind, like a spirit of the twilight.
"Why didn't you contact me? What were you thinking?"
"Sig… you're here."
Kiana turned around, unsurprised by his arrival.
The wind picked up suddenly, lifting the hem of her dress and tousling her loose, silvery hair. Against the backdrop of the sunset, she looked like a scene from a poem or a painting.
She instinctively pressed one hand against her dress and the other against her hair, trying to maintain her composure. In that fleeting moment, she exuded a soft and delicate charm, like a flower bud gently blooming.
Then, Sigurd reached out with a red hair tie and tied up her unruly waist-length silver hair.
The moment her hair was secured, the wind conveniently settled as well.
"Are you feeling unwell anywhere?"
Sigurd asked casually, his gaze lingering on her snow-white face.
Kiana shook her head, hesitated for a moment, then gently wrapped her arms around Sigurd in an embrace.
"I'm fine. But… coming back from the Sea of Quanta couldn't have been easy, right? Wouldn't this delay something important for you?"
Her voice was soft as she nestled against the person she cherished most, looking up at him with clear, gentle eyes full of emotion.
Sigurd naturally wrapped his arms around her slender waist. After a brief pause, he met her gaze and said,
"It doesn't matter—"
Kiana let out a small breath of relief—only to hear Sigurd continue without hesitation,
"—You're more important."
Kiana froze.
His words were plain and direct, devoid of any flowery embellishments or deliberate charm. But precisely because of that, they were more moving than any sweet talk could ever be.
For a long moment, Kiana simply stared at him. Then, she broke into a radiant, joyful smile, as beautiful as a blooming flower.
"You idiot! Sig, you're someone who carries the fate of humanity on your shoulders. You can't be this reckless in the future!"
"I've said it before—I am a reckless person."
"Then you need to change. Books say that emperors should always put the world first."
"…Are you lecturing me?"
Sigurd frowned slightly.
Kiana blinked playfully, feigning innocence.
"Am I wrong?"
"…No. You're quite right."
Sigurd admitted flatly, lifting his gaze to the setting sun—Tsk! Never thought this girl would actually win an argument against me!
Sensing his irritation, Kiana let out a giggle.
"Does defeating me make you that happy?"
"It's just so rare! What, are you upset?"
"Yes. And I'm holding a grudge."
"You're such a sore loser…"
"Want to say that again?"
"Hehe! Nope! If I say it again, you really will hold a grudge."
Kiana stuck out her tongue mischievously, her laughter light and teasing.
Then, she nuzzled closer, pressing her soft body more tightly against his. The warmth of her touch melted Sigurd's heart into a puddle.
After a long while, Sigurd finally asked,
"What did you go through? I thought you were just being stubborn or unwilling to accept failure, but now… it doesn't seem like you simply lost your power."
"I… had a very long dream."
"What kind of dream?"
"She… left me. But she also left something behind. We were like twin blossoms growing from the same stem. Through me, she saw the present, and through her, I saw the past."
"I glimpsed her memories—I saw the life of that girl named Sirin, from her birth to her destruction. I felt her pain and resentment…"
"Sigurd, the real Sirin, the original Sirin, died in Siberia all those years ago. Your revenge… has already been fulfilled."
Kiana spoke softly, a complex mix of sorrow and contemplation clouding her delicate face.
Sigurd paused.
He was a little surprised, but not overly so. The Sirin of the past had been reduced to nothing more than a Herrscher core—saying she had died was reasonable. Not everyone was like Welt Yang from the original timeline, capable of making comebacks even when reduced to just a core.
Sigurd hummed in acknowledgment and asked,
"And then?"
"If… if she were the Sirin from back then, I would never be able to accept her. Even if you could forgive her for my sake, I wouldn't be able to let it go."
"But… she isn't that Sirin. She and I are the same—merely remnants of Sirin's existence within the core, reborn as new souls in this body of flesh and blood."
"The only difference is that I inherited nothing—I was born a blank slate. She, however, inherited all of Sirin's resentment and pain, and because of that, she was able to awaken the Herrscher's power born from that suffering. Perhaps that's why, after our separation, the power remained with her and not me."
As Kiana spoke, she wove together her thoughts and memories, sometimes sorrowful, sometimes at peace.
Sigurd listened quietly, never interrupting. At this moment, what Kiana needed most was simply someone who could listen to her without reservation.
She continued,
"I once thought she was Sirin, and so I hated her deeply. But the truth is, Sirin is already gone. Neither of us is her, yet we are both her continuation… So, I find that I can't bring myself to hate her anymore. After all, hating her would mean hating myself… and Sig, you wouldn't want me to think like that, would you?"
Kiana looked up at him, her gaze soft and tender.
Sigurd nodded.
"Of course not."
He responded as he gently ran his fingers through her hair, an unconscious smile forming on his lips—a warmth he himself didn't even realize was there.
But Kiana felt it, and because of that, she smiled sweetly before continuing,
"I'm lucky to have met you, Sig. Now, it feels like I am the part of Sirin that walked the path of love, while she is the part that walked the path of hatred. We stand in opposition, yet at our core, we are so similar…"
"I felt her resentment and her pain. I think… Aunt Cecilia must have felt it too. That's why she was willing to give Sirin her love as a mother, no matter what."
"It's just a shame that in the end, Aunt Cecilia still sacrificed herself. If she had survived, perhaps… things would have been very different."
Kiana sighed softly, her voice laced with admiration and longing for the gentle, wonderful woman she had seen in her memories. If only I could meet her in the real world, she thought.
She fell silent.
After a moment, Sigurd asked,
"Then… what do you plan to do next?"
Kiana met his gaze but didn't answer immediately. Instead, she asked,
"Sig, the Herrscher of the Void's power… it's very useful, isn't it?"
"…Yes. Very useful."
Sigurd replied honestly.
In terms of combat, it was a nightmare for any physical-based attacker. In terms of utility, it had irreplaceable value in research, military applications, and even governance.
Kiana nodded, her gaze unwavering, without fear or hesitation.
"I want to use the equipment in Warehouse 47."
"That's too dangerous."
"It's okay. Trust me, Sig."
"…No. It's too dangerous."
After a brief moment of hesitation, Sigurd made his decision.
But Kiana cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. With unwavering determination, she said,
"Sig, trust me! I'm not a child anymore. I can protect myself, and I can use my strength to help you. Believe in me, okay?"
"…"
"I've grown up, Sig."
Kiana whispered softly, her voice filled with deep affection.
Then, she rose onto her tiptoes and, before Sigurd could react—or resist—pressed a kiss to his lips.
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Tn: They fucked after this
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