Chaos Heir

Chapter 1438: Friends

The mood was very different inside the gargantuan gorge, and had been like that as soon as a white light shone at its bottom.

Monica was only a fourth-level warrior who wasn’t even battle-oriented. Her family had educated her in those matters, but politics had always been her specialty. She had also stopped working out in recent years, mainly focusing on her duties as a member of Khan’s inner circle.

Meanwhile, Liiza was Liiza. She had been able to face the Scarlet Eyes’ scouts as a fifth-level warrior without the mutagen, so her power was on a completely different level now that she had evolved.

In short, Monica was powerless to do anything against Liiza. She didn’t even realize a teleport had unfolded until she inspected her new location, which made the event undeniable.

The white sand had disappeared, replaced by a dark-brown bedrock. The sunlight had also stopped shining down on the area, replaced by a brighter and noisier star.

The loud, crackling noises that reached Monica’s ears made her cut the inspection of her surroundings short to look up. Purple-red clouds were raging above her, creating a storm in the middle of that immense cavity, seemingly ready to unleash a natural calamity.

The sight was frightening and alarming, especially since Monica couldn’t possibly fail to spot the connection between that iconic color and Khan. He had created that lasting, raging mark in the quadrant, showing how far he had gotten.

The bright cloud actually helped Monica realize the difference better. Her knowledge in those fields wasn’t great, so profound explanations that relied on alien terminology wouldn’t have brought any meaningful understanding.

Instead, a portable lightning storm that refused to disperse worked perfectly in that regard. Khan had become able to change a quadrant’s weather. Monica couldn’t even include him in her concept of life anymore.

As breathtaking as the sight was, something closer and far more piercing soon attracted Monica’s attention, making her lower her gaze toward the second source of light in that unfathomably deep gorge.

Liiza had teleported with Monica, and her white eyes had remained fixed on her. Her light enveloped Monica, trapping her in a piercing cold that almost sent shivers down her back.

The experience was far from comfortable, and the more private situation made Monica drop any attempt to put on a strong front. Yet, Liiza soon diverted her glowing gaze to inspect the clouds above, sparing Monica from more seconds in that chilling inspection.

“My husband can summon this with but a thought,” Liiza announced. “He actually held back for yours and everyone else’s sake. This quadrant wouldn’t exist anymore otherwise.”

Monica immediately understood what Liiza was trying to do, but her words hit home nonetheless. Khan now belonged to a different and unreachable world. Monica had to accept that truth and give up on him completely.

Nevertheless, Monica had already done that. A part of her would always love Khan, but she had broken up with him because she had long since realized that truth. Monica would have only held Khan back, and he would have accepted that sacrifice because he was a selfless idiot.

“He married you,” Monica responded. “You gave him a child. I wouldn’t assume to know you, but we are both aware that no other woman will exist in his eyes now.”

Liiza lowered her gaze, enveloping Monica in her white light again, only for it to be less uncomfortable now. Yet, Liiza’s hand also snapped forward, trapping Monica’s face in her cold grasp.

“You are the only other woman my husband ever loved,” Liiza declared, her grasp relaxing, only for her cold fingers to caress Monica’s face. “I do love you for bringing him respite when I couldn’t, but I also hate you for all the guilt you made him carry.”

That last part actually wasn’t entirely on Monica. Liiza realized she had played a significant role in Khan’s guilt. After all, she had been the one sending him away, making him look for happiness in other women’s embrace.

“I’m also jealous about your grace,” Liiza continued, her fingers sliding down until she planted her palm on the center of Monica’s chest, “About the mark you left on him and his proclivity toward skirts.”

Monica realized how dangerous the situation was. Even if Liiza had no ill intentions, she was too strong for Monica. Her cold existence on its own was almost too much to bear for Monica.

Nevertheless, learning about the skirts still put a faint smile on Monica’s face. Even if her mind had accepted defeat, she felt happy that something of that magical relationship had survived.

“Luckily,” Liiza added. “Your chest is average.”

The smile that had started to broaden on Monica’s face froze, replaced by a frown, which Liiza didn’t bother to inspect. The latter suddenly let go of Monica, turning to browse over the cavity’s bottom.

Monica blinked, inevitably looking down at her cleavage. She never had any meaningful inferiority complex there, and she pushed Liiza’s words aside before they could give birth to one.

“I’m jealous of you, too,” Monica said, deciding to avoid delving into petty topics. “The way you stand at his side … You gave him something I never could.”

“I know,” Liiza claimed. “I saw that the first time I pushed him down. He seemed to have forgotten that it could happen.”

Memories of intimate moments with Khan rose into Monica’s mind. She knew he always helped her move him and held back during their passion, and getting reminded of that didn’t exactly feel good.

“He hadn’t touched a bed since your breakup,” Liiza revealed. “Or pillow, for that matter.”

That flood of memories disappeared, replaced by genuine surprise. Monica’s lips parted, but no words came out of them. She couldn’t even feel glad or proud. It only pained her that the breakup had hurt Khan so deeply.

“Do you want to know how long it took us to break his ship’s bed?” Liiza wondered, turning to face Monica again, expressionless as always. “Do you want to know how long it took us to leave that bed?”

Monica was struggling to keep up with Liiza. On the one hand, she seemed to want to praise Monica, but remarks about her superiority always followed.

“Miss Liiza,” Monica called, getting closer and closer to snapping. “My Princess. If you have a point, I request you to make it.”

Liiza’s cold eyes darted over Monica’s face, only to roll in what looked like annoyance, which a traditional Niqols bow followed.

“Miss Solodrey,” Liiza called. “I wish for us to be friends.”