Chapter 142 - - 142 - An Earthshaking Awakening

Chapter 142: Chapter - 142 - An Earthshaking Awakening

"I simply gave her back what she was born with," Lucien said quietly, standing up and casually brushing the white stone dust from his dark robes. He looked down at the unconscious princess on the polished marble floor, his eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction. "Earth-Sovereign Physique. It seems it was even rarer than I initially thought. And far more valuable, too."

Then the earthquake hit.

It started as a deep, grinding tremor beneath the floorboards before sweeping outward through the foundations of the city. Streets groaned. Across the capital, stone buildings trembled and plaster rained down from ceilings. Lanterns hung along the thoroughfares swung wildly on their hooks, casting erratic shadows across the cobblestones. The festive atmosphere vanished instantly. The festival grounds erupted into pure chaos as citizens screamed, tripping over fallen stalls and scrambling for open space in panic.

In the royal palace, Queen Veyra felt the sudden, heavy tremor beneath her seat. She paused mid-gesture, her cup hovering inches from her lips, and went very, very still.

Out in the festival plaza, Crown Prince Varen staggered as the ground heaved. He reached out and grabbed a thick stone pillar to steady himself, his face draining of color, pale with confusion and fear as he stared at the cracking pavement.

And in the cellar beneath the quiet tea shop, Zaria opened her eyes.

"What... happened?" Her voice was barely a whisper. Shock clouded her face; she had no idea that the violent shaking tearing through the city above was coming entirely from her.

"You happened." Lucien offered her a hand. "Get up. We have work to do."

She reached out and took his hand, and he pulled her smoothly to her feet. She swayed for a second, her knees unsteady, but she didn’t fall. Something inside her had shifted fundamentally. Her body felt entirely different — denser, stronger, heavier, and far more solid than it had moments ago. She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers, and then stared at the fine cracks spreading through the marble floor beneath her boots.

"I did this?"

"Your physique did. You’ll learn to control it with time, but you will have to be very careful from now on. You didn’t just wake up — you jumped straight into the Spirit Forge Realm." He paused, studying her face and the subtle light lingering beneath her skin. "How do you feel?"

"Like I’ve been asleep for ten years and just woke up." She looked up at him, and the helplessness that used to linger in her posture was completely gone. In its place was something new — a quiet wonder, mixed with a sharp, burning hunger. "What now?"

"Now we make sure everyone knows what happened." Lucien smiled faintly. "You’re going to claim the earthquake as a divine sign. Make them think the heavens chose you. Use this moment as a stepping stone."

Zaria’s expression shifted, her brows knitting together. "You want me to lie to the entire kingdom."

"I want you to tell them the truth in a way they’ll believe." He turned away, heading toward the wooden stairs that led out of the cellar. "The court respects only power and signs. Give them both."

The palace plaza was in utter chaos by the time they arrived.

Crowds of commoners and low-ranking nobles had gathered in mass, drawn by the shaking earth and the wild rumors spreading like wildfire through the streets. Royal guards in polished armor struggled to push the surging masses back, their shouts lost in the noise. Nobles huddled in small groups, whispering anxiously behind their embroidered sleeves. Everyone was looking for someone to blame — or something to believe in.

Lucien moved casually through the press of people, guiding Zaria step by step. She moved differently now. The timid, hesitant stride of the forgotten princess was gone. Her steps were heavier, firmly planted, and radiated an unconscious confidence. Her new physique had changed far more than just her internal cultivation veins; it had changed the very way she carried herself through the world.

They reached the center of the broad plaza where the tremor had hit the hardest. Deep fissures had snapped through the stone paving, spreading outward in an intricate, branching pattern that — whether by pure coincidence or some deeper, hidden design — distinctly resembled the crest of the royal family.

Lucien stopped just at the outer edge of the cracked stone. "This is your moment. Make it count."

Zaria took a breath, stepped forward, and walked straight into the center of the cracked crest.

The surrounding crowd noticed her first, the murmurs cascading outward until the entire plaza fell silent, every eye turning to watch the discarded princess.

She didn’t hesitate. She raised her hand toward the sky. The earth beneath her boots immediately responded — a low, vibrating rumble echoing from deep underground, followed by a pulse of heavy energy that rippled through the stone. The fissures around her began to glow with a rich, golden-earthen light.

"I am no longer the ’unblessed princess’!" Her voice carried across the vast plaza, remarkably strong and ringing with clear authority. "The heavens have blessed me! I am Zaria Veylcrest, and I claim my place in this kingdom!"

The silence broke instantly as the crowd erupted.

Some shouted in excitement and cheered her name. Some screamed in terror, dropping to their knees. Others simply stared in stunned disbelief, too shocked to process what they were seeing.

Lucien stood near the edge of the courtyard, leaning back into the deep shadows of a stone archway. A faint, knowing smile touched his lips as he watched the hysteria unfold.

No matter the world, no matter the realm, when it comes to believing in a divine sign, human beings will always find a reason to believe, Lucien thought, his eyes tracking the wide-eyed faces of the crowd. Human beings would rather place their faith in an unseen god than in a mere man. From here on out, Zaria will become a living symbol of divine favor. The people who choose to fight for her will throw their lives away blindly. I suppose this is what they call blind faith.

Heavy footfalls shattered the moment as the Crown Prince arrived, pushing through the crowd with pure fury written across his face.

"This is a trick!" Varen roared, storming directly toward his sister. His golden cultivation aura flared violently around his shoulders, cracking the air with tension. "She’s using forbidden techniques!"

Zaria didn’t flinch. She stood her ground, looking her brother dead in the eye. "Then test me, brother. Right here, right now. Let the people see who the heavens truly favor. And believe me when I say this — I don’t feel like I’m going to lose."

Varen froze mid-step. His hand hovered over the hilt of his sword, his heart hammering against his ribs. He was at the peak of the Vein Opening Realm, a stage he had worked years to reach. But the sheer pressure radiating off Zaria belonged firmly to the Spirit Forge Realm. The difference between their levels was massive. On top of that, the earth itself had answered her call, and the ground was still humming beneath their feet. What if she wasn’t bluffing? What if she truly had been blessed by the heavens?

Before he could make a move or utter another word, a regal figure stepped gracefully between them. Queen Veyra had arrived.

"There will be no duel today." The Queen’s voice was ice-cold and perfectly controlled, instantly commanding the attention of everyone present. "But there will be an investigation. If the princess is found to be using forbidden techniques, she will be punished accordingly."

Watching from afar, Lucien caught the subtle shift in the dynamic. See? That’s exactly how it works, he thought to himself. The moment the useless princess demonstrates actual power, talk of formal duels instantly begins. Eventually, settling the right to the throne through combat will become the natural standard here — just like back in Valtheria. That is how nations grow.

Queen Veyra turned her gaze toward the edge of the plaza. Her sharp eyes swept over the crowd and locked onto Lucien standing in the shadows. They held each other’s stare for a long, heavy moment.

She knew. She realized instantly that he was the force operating behind her daughter.

Lucien maintained his faint smile and inclined his head just slightly — a quiet greeting between equals. Of course, as far as raw kingdom authority went, Lucien wasn’t her equal, but in the grand game they were playing, he held all the right cards.

The Queen’s cold expression didn’t shatter, but her knuckles turned white as her hand tightened tightly around her silk fan.

Late that night, Queen Veyra dispatched her most trusted personal cultivators to search Zaria’s private chambers.

Their orders were direct and ruthless: find evidence of demonic cultivation. And if no evidence existed, plant it.

However, when the black-robed men quietly slipped through the balcony doors into Zaria’s rooms, Lucien was already waiting for them, sitting comfortably in the deep shadows of the corner.

"You’re looking for evidence of demonic techniques?" Lucien asked, his tone casual as he stepped out into the faint moonlight.

The cultivators froze instantly, their hands flying to their weapons, weapons half-drawn. They hadn’t been surprised to learn that someone was helping the princess from behind the curtain — in fact, they had fully expected an advisor to be involved. What they hadn’t expected was for him to be standing right in front of them, completely calm and prepared.

Without missing a beat, Lucien held out a sealed scroll. The lead cultivator hesitated, eyeing him warily, before snatching the scroll. He broke the wax seal, rolled it open, and scanned the tight writing. As his eyes moved down the page, all the color drained from his face.

"This is..."

"Evidence that the Queen has been using forbidden techniques to maintain her youth and power," Lucien said smoothly, his voice pleasant and completely devoid of threat. "I’m sure the grand elders at the Sunfire Temple would find it fascinating. Of course, if the investigation into Princess Zaria turns up absolutely nothing, this scroll might... disappear. Along with all the other copies I’ve hidden."

Creating such evidence — even if it was largely fabricated — was never difficult for someone like Lucien. When a person relies on hidden methods to sustain their cultivation, word eventually leaks out into the dark. A secret whispered in the dark always finds a buyer if the price is right.

If anyone were to dig deeply enough into Lucien himself, they would quickly realize that he, too, had used forbidden methods to gain power. But what they would never figure out was that the current Lucien was not the original Lucien. They could spend a lifetime searching and never uncover the exact dark rituals the original owner of this body had performed, because the current Lucien kept his true secrets entirely to himself. Queen Veyra, however, did not have that luxury.

Demonic techniques always required a sacrifice. Just as Lucien required souls, Queen Veyra undoubtedly had to consume the life force or blood of ordinary people to maintain her unnatural beauty and strength. And once a secret involves sacrificial victims, witnesses exist. It hadn’t taken Lucien more than a single day to gather the quiet rumors floating through the city’s underbelly regarding the Queen’s private habits.

The lead cultivator stared at the damning text, then looked up at Lucien. He glanced at his men. Without saying a single word, the cultivators lowered their weapons, rolled the scroll shut, and retreated silently back into the night.

A moment after the balcony doors clicked shut, Vex emerged from the adjacent room behind Lucien, slipping out from behind a heavy curtain.

"What did you just give them?" Vex asked, eyeing the empty balcony.

"Leverage." Lucien watched the dark figures leap across the rooftop tiles in the distance. "The Queen will think twice before making another move against us."

Inside her inner bedchamber, Zaria was recovering from the violent energy surge of her breakthrough. She sat quietly before a tall vanity mirror, staring intently at her own reflection in the dim candlelight.

She looked entirely different. The soft, hesitant lines of her face had sharpened, replaced by a firm, quiet strength. Years of emotional suppression and royal neglect had left deep scars on her mind, but the woman staring back at her in the glass was no longer the fragile princess who had been mocked at the festival earlier that day.

The heavy door creaked open, and Lucien stepped into the room without bothering to knock.

"Why did you help me?" she asked softly. She didn’t turn around, keeping her eyes fixed on his reflection in the mirror as he approached. "Really?"

"I told you," Lucien replied, stopping a few feet behind her. "I want access to the royal vault."

"That’s not the only reason."

"No." He moved closer, stepping up right beside her chair. "But it’s the only reason that matters to you. For now."

Zaria turned around in her seat to face him directly. Her dark eyes searched his face, looking for any subtle sign of a lie, a trick, or a hidden trap. She found nothing of the sort. There was only cold, honest ambition staring back at her.

And then she saw something else — something raw and unexpected that made her breath catch in her throat.

She stood up abruptly, reached out, and kissed him.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It wasn’t romantic or soft. It was a violent release of pent-up tension, a fierce claim, and a demand all at once. Lucien didn’t pull away. He responded in kind, his arm sliding smoothly around her waist to pull her close while his other hand tangled firmly into her hair, holding her against him.

When they finally broke apart, her breath was coming in short gasps. Her cheeks were flushed red, and her eyes burned with an intense, fiery light.

People who break through too fast always suffer from sudden shifts in temperament, Lucien noted internally, feeling the heat of her skin. She’s certainly much bolder than she used to be.

"This is getting complicated," Lucien murmured, his voice low.

"Complicated can be fun." Zaria reached out, grabbed his collar, and pulled him right back toward her.

On the other side of the palace, Queen Veyra sat entirely alone in her private quarters. The scroll Lucien had handed to her guards lay spread open on the dark wood table in front of her, illuminated by a single flickering candle.

The evidence written on the parchment was fabricated, built entirely on clever rumors and half-truths. She could tell that much just by reading the specific details. But the narrative was terrifyingly consistent — damning enough that if a copy ever reached the high priests of the Sunfire Temple, her authority and standing would be shattered overnight.

She reached out with a trembling hand, poured herself a glass of deep red wine, and stared down at the scroll.

"He’s clever," she whispered to the quiet room. "Far too clever."

She knew she would have to eliminate him eventually. But not tonight, and not recklessly. Not until she uncovered precisely who he was and what kind of monster she was truly dealing with.

Queen Veyra took a slow sip of her wine, set the crystal glass down, and began to plan.