Novel Full Chapter 2108 shackles
Chapter 2108 shackles
Why was she blaming herself when no one dared to take the first row scions challenge anymore?
The best among the first row scions at present was the second brother, Hudison. Even he barely maintained a centennial empire of three hundred planets. For tens of thousands of years he had not expanded his territory by even a single star system. Instead, he had chosen stability over ambition, settling into marriage and reproduction, focusing on preserving what he had already built rather than risking everything for something greater.
And yet, despite this cautious approach, he had still found himself dragged into war.
For the past few centuries he had been locked in a bitter conflict against two centennial empires that were openly backed by a millennial empire. The struggle had become a grinding stalemate, draining resources, manpower, and prestige with every passing decade.
Pathetic for a Monarch.
Even more pathetic for someone who had descended from an artificial galaxy. But at the same time… it was understandable.
Great emperors were rarely born from ability alone. Strength, talent, and determination were only part of the equation. Most of the time, the truly powerful rulers of the universe were forged through either powerful relationships or unimaginable luck.
Some rose gradually by attaching themselves to greater powers, manipulating the giants of the universe while presenting themselves as loyal allies. Through decades and centuries of careful flattery, they gathered support, resources, and protection.
Just like the ancestor of the Nine Paths Empire, who had once shamelessly licked the boots of the Savage Behemoth’s galaxy until he was allowed to grow beneath its shadow.
Others rose through absurd fortune.
The Savage Behemoth himself was a perfect example. By sheer chance, he had discovered the complete corpse of a young space beast drifting through the void. That single discovery had provided him with enough resources to transform his entire destiny.
One moment he had been nothing more than a rising figure among many.
The next moment he possessed the foundation needed to build an empir that would shake the stars.
But what about Helmor’s system?
What about the path forced upon the children of the first row scions?
To keep your children beneath your authority for countless years, allowing them to grow under your shadow, only to suddenly throw them into the wilderness and tell them to go build an empire of their own?
To burden them with existential taxes the moment they stepped outside your protection, forcing them to take loans, seek assistance, and struggle just to keep their foundations from collapsing?
To make their path heavier than that of any ordinary ruler in the universe?
Yes…
This was not her failure.
It was the system that had failed.
There was no shame in the fact that she had not managed to establish a powerful empire under her name. She did not possess the ability to build deep connections and flatter powerful figures. Nor did fortune carry her effortlessly toward success the way it had for others.
She lacked the shameless cunning required to manipulate the great powers of
the universe.
She lacked the miraculous luck that turned ordinary rulers into legends.
So why should she blame herself?
…Only when she reached that conclusion did Helen’s chest relax slightly.
The suffocating pressure inside her heart finally loosened.
The endless self-accusations that had haunted her for years slowly began to fade.
She stopped thinking about the Empire of the Pit of Destruction she had abandoned.
She stopped thinking about the rat nest that had humiliated her.
Instead, her thoughts turned inward.
She began reconsidering her past and her present, slowly examining the choices she had made and the paths she had taken.
More importantly, she began planning her future.
She could not remain idle forever.
If she failed to pay the fixed annual existential taxes, her father would eventually send someone to capture her and drag her back to the Destruction
Galaxy.
Once that happened, she would be forced to kneel and take the oath.
She would become a second row daughter.
Another silent statue standing beneath Helmor’s throne.
Obedient.
Expressionless.
Powerful… yet completely hollow.
That must never happen.
Those who believe themselves greater than the oath of loyalty and wish to make a name for themselves may step forward. Take the title of a first row
scion and go carve your own name.
Those had been Helmor’s words.
Thinking about them now…
He had never actually said that building an empire was the only acceptable
path.
In a universe ruled by interstellar conquest, planetary empires had simply become the most obvious symbol of status. Even a Monarch required planets to rule and tribute to sustain their influence.
But that was only one interpretation.
Perhaps she had misunderstood the meaning of that challenge from the very
beginning.
Perhaps the path of the first row scions had never been about empires at all.
Perhaps it had always been about something else.
Perhaps it had been about power.
True power.
Individual power.
Perhaps she did not possess the personality required for flattery and
manipulation.
Perhaps she did not possess the absurd luck that shaped legends.
But she had something else.
She had talent.
More importantly…
She had overwhelming strength.
She possessed enough power to crush planetary empires with her own hands.
So why should she follow the same road as everyone else?
Why should she waste centuries trying to build fragile political structures
when her true weapon was her personal power?
Why not walk her own path?
Why not use her strength, her reputation, and her victories to carve her own
name into the universe?
Why not escape the fate of taking the oath and descending into the ranks of the
second row?
On that very day she made her decision.
Building an empire was no longer a path worthy of her.
Instead, she went to Hedrick.
She requested to fight in his ranks.
There she would gain real military experience. She would refine her use of her
law through controlled battles rather than risking everything in existential wars where a single mistake meant annihilation.
At the same time, she would gain recognition among the great powers of the
universe.
Fame.
That was the true currency of influence.
Fame was what would open doors.
Fame was what would attract allies, opportunities, and resources.
Not raw strength alone.
At the first opportunity she secluded herself to attempt a breakthrough when
she felt she had touched the Minor Ashification Law after focusing on it
intensely for some time.
Within only a few decades, without receiving external assistance from anyone,
she managed to gain the acceptance of the law.
Thousands of years had been wasted pursuing a path that had never truly
belonged to her.
But now-
Finally-
She had become a Monarch.
Soon she would become a mid-level Monarch.
After that, a high-level Monarch.
This was the true path.
The path of individual power.
This was how she would place her enemies beneath her feet.
Her enemies…
For a few brief moments after receiving the acknowledgment of the
Incineration Law, Helen smiled.
The lucky Rat.
And his son who had ridden his wave and forgotten his origins.
Could they repeat their humiliating actions against her now?
After she had stepped onto the true path?
…The answer arrived sooner than she expected.
Yes.
They could.
And even worse.
Friend of the Cosmic Elder. Founder of the chain of cosmic academies. Publicly
opposing the Sorcerer Behemoth and the Cursed One. Driving away the Savage Behemoth himself.
…Could luck truly cause all of that?
The true path she had chosen… The path of individual power.
Was it truly the correct path?
was the path the one chosen by Rat-
No.
The path chosen by Loooord Robin?
Rage.
Confusion.
Despair.
All three emotions struck her at once, blinding her judgment and drowning her
thoughts.
Immediately she requested the coordinates of their greatest enemy and surged toward it without hesitation.
It did not matter who the enemy was.
It did not matter what he had done.
She simply needed someone to bear the weight of her anger.
And among all the beings in the universe…
Damir was the one who opened the wound even deeper.
Damir showed a wide smile, chuckling quietly.
The negative energy surrounding Helen swelled dramatically. The soul force
and life energy being drained from her body increased rapidly, while the array amplified the process further with every passing second.
He had won.
Even if Helen attempted to fight now, her mental state was no longer stable
enough to form proper strategies or make rational decisions in battle.
She would hesitate.
She would make mistakes.
Fear would paralyze her at the worst possible moment.
It was already over.
If she did not escape now, death was inevitable.
“…Huh?”
Damir’s smile froze.
The black threads emerging from Helen
cared.
Damir immediately inspected the array, ensuring it was still functioning. He even poured additional power into it to stabilize the formation.
But it was useless. The array had completely lost its influence over Helen.
Then he heard her voice.
“The fear of falling to a lower state… the fear of failure… the fear of
disappointing myself…” Helen murmured slowly. “Comparing myself to my brothers. Comparing myself to Robin Burton. Comparing myself to my elder brother Hedrick…”
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
“That is my illness. The illness that obstructed me. It was never flattery, nor
luck.”
“Neither fear nor comparisons helped me. They only prevented me from pursuing my dream… the dream that led me to choose the path of the first row scions.”
Then she looked directly into Damir’s eyes.
Her gaze was calm. Clear. Completely free of hesitation.
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“The dream I will return to, no matter the cost. Without fear. Without
comparisons. Without old grudges clouding my mind.”
Zzznn.
Helen drew a long, slender epic sword from her spatial ring and raised it
toward the sky.
“I, Helen Distra…”
Her voice carried absolute certainty.
“…will become the strongest Monarch in history.”
And then-
She thrust forward.