Phaethon paused, his gaze calmly meeting Cerydra's scrutinizing eyes as he continued:
"Now, I have fully demonstrated to you my strength, my methods, and—my 'sincerity' in standing on your side. So now, may I... as the 'Amphoreus Deliverer,' engage in a truly equal dialogue with you?"
He even tilted his head slightly, his tone laced with an innocent sense of entitlement:
"As for those necessary 'transgressions' earlier, I believe a sovereign of your stature surely won't take them to heart. Right?"
The moment his words fell, the clone that had been holding Cerydra at swordpoint with the Judgment of Shamash dissipated like a phantom, merging back into Phaethon's main body.
Cerydra felt the searing heat and pressure at her neck vanish instantly, her freedom fully restored.
Almost simultaneously, the tough golden threads formed from the Authority of Romance, which had bound the soldiers, swiftly receded and dissolved into the air as if possessing a life of their own.
At the same time the time-stop field enveloping Hysilens, Aglaea, and Tribbie…
The golden radiance of Time receded like a tide, restoring control of their bodies to the three Chrysos Heirs.
The Blade of Fury also gradually faded, no longer a threat to the others.
The instant she was freed, Hysilens shot forward like lightning, placing herself without hesitation between Cerydra and Phaethon. Her unusual violin like-sword pointed directly at Phaethon, her eyes filled with belated fear and icy killing intent.
"My apologies, Your Majesty the imperator... This is a severe dereliction of duty by the Dux Gladiorum, allowing you to suffer such..." Hysilens's voice carried suppressed fury and deep self-reproach as she began to plead for punishment from Cerydra.
But she was softly interrupted by the Empress's voice from behind, which held an unusually calm, even strangely composed tone:
"Enough, Dux Gladiorum. He demonstrated and wielded the powers of Passage, Time, and Romance simultaneously, and likely holds the Authority of Strife as well... Facing such an existence, your inability to match him is understandable."
Cerydra's ornate scepter tapped lightly on the ground. An invisible force instantly spread, incinerating those unpleasant heads and the blood beneath them into the finest ash, scattering them into nothingness as if they had never existed.
She raised her eyes, her gaze settling once more on Phaethon, her voice regaining its imperial authority:
"Deliverer, I truly do not hold your earlier transgressions against you. However, next time you dispose of such filth, there is no need to bring their foul heads before me."
She turned slightly, her posture still haughty, yet implicitly acknowledging Phaethon's right to dialogue:
"Come with me then, you two swordsmen who call yourselves Deliverer. I will grant you... an equal conversation."
She paused deliberately, blue flames burning quietly in her eyes.
"Or perhaps, 'negotiation' is the more fitting term."
And so, in less than an hour, Phaethon had succeeded—through a series of maneuvers from show of force to presenting a "token of allegiance"—in reaching a fragile understanding with this notoriously wise and tenacious iron-fisted monarch:
A genuine conversation, stripped of their disparity in status, was necessary between them.
The first door to cooperation had been pried open a crack by Phaethon, in an exceedingly domineering and unconventional manner.
...
Cerydra sat upon the soft cushions, deliberately adjusting her seat's height so she could look Phaethon and Phainon directly in the eye.
At this moment, her slender fingers unconsciously stroked the cold surface of her scepter as she struggled to digest the truth she had just heard.
After a long while, Cerydra finally spoke, her voice carrying a heavy note of disbelief:
"You are saying... the 'Recreation' we revere and strive for, from beginning to end, is nothing but a colossal lie designed to lure the world to its destruction? The harder we work to save it, the more manpower and hope we pour into it, the more irreversibly it slides toward utter annihilation?"
Her blue eyes bore into Phaethon, searching his face for any trace of deceit.
"That is indeed the case, Your Majesty Cerydra," Phainon took over, his gaze sweeping over the Empress, then over the solemn, thoughtful faces of Aglaea and Tribbie behind her, his tone earnest and sincere:
"And Lady Aglaea, Teacher Tribbie: Please understand that in this recurrence, the 'Phainon' and 'Phaethon' you are familiar with have not yet been born. In the distant future, they may appear before you as prophesied—but, please, do not actively seek them out..." He used his sincere tone, attempting to earn their deeper trust.
Phaethon glanced at Phainon, his heart stirring slightly. He thinks, perhaps there won't be another "variable" like himself born. Phainon might not have realized this yet, which is why he could say such things so naturally.
But should he tell him this harsh possibility now? No... the moment hasn't truly arrived yet; no conclusion should be drawn lightly.
Moreover, how could he possibly voice such words to Phainon?
Cerydra fell silent for a moment, as if weighing this inconceivable revelation.
Finally, she let out a soft sigh, tinged with resignation and resolve. "Very well, I believe you. Or rather, in this utterly desperate situation before me, I can only choose to believe you. That you, who possess the power to overturn everything, chose to sit down and talk rather than resort to force directly—this is already the best outcome I could secure for my dynasty."
Yet, in the very next moment, her gaze sharpened once more, turning keen and unyielding: "But you must understand, this imperator's dynasty has always been a dynasty of the 'people'! You've seen it yourselves—this cycle's Amphoreus, under the successive blows of the Black Tide, is almost nothing but despair."
Her voice rose, carrying an unshakable bottom line: "The people have pinned all their hopes on the prophesied Recreation! If you are to overthrow that, then you must also provide something to rekindle the flame in their hearts. You must earn the trust and acceptance of my people! And I absolutely will not permit you to use those methods you threatened me with to harm or coerce even a single one of my subjects! Even if that means facing you as enemies once more—this, is my bottom line!"
Phaethon fell silent for a moment. He could feel the determination and the deep-seated sense of responsibility in Cerydra's words.
He met her gaze and replied solemnly, "Agreed. I promise you. I will use actions, not force, to try and ignite the true spark of hope in people's hearts."