Genshin Impact, I'm Slime

The moon hides behind the eaves, its color growing even richer.

Heureia listened calmly to Russell's description of the authority of winter and the structure of the Fools, then lowered her eyes and stared at the cold ground.

"Thank you for sharing this knowledge."

"So, Steward Russell, what brings you to my prison so late at night?"

Russell's smile was like a meticulously crafted mask, its curve unchanged. He bowed slightly, his voice still gentle, yet carrying an unmistakable formality:
"I have come on the orders of the Ice Queen and my master, Lord Pantalone, the Ninth Executive Officer, to invite Your Majesty to move to Winter."

"Your wisdom and existence will be an indispensable cornerstone for us to build a new order."

Russell spoke solemnly, but upon hearing his words, Heureia's lips curled into a smile that was almost self-deprecating.

"Building a new order?"

She slowly raised her eyes and looked directly into Russell's eyes.

"As you can see, Butler Russell, I am but a mortal prisoner stripped of all power. How could I, a mere ember, possibly reach the grand vision you speak of?"

Russell's expression remained unchanged, as if he had anticipated the question. He bowed again, his posture still respectful, but his words were as clear as a blade slicing through ice:
"Your Majesty is too modest. Your very existence is an invaluable gift to the Winter Solstice."

"The shift of power is but a ripple in the long river of fate. My lord is broad-minded and not only wishes to welcome you with the highest honors for receiving a demon god, but also wishes to do everything in his power to help you explore the possible path to regain your great power."

Russell's gaze fell on Heureia, with an almost bewitching certainty.

"Your value far exceeds the power you have lost."

Heureia's gaze was fixed on Russell's seemingly sincere face, and a barely audible sigh escaped her lips.

The fact that he could sneak in unnoticed amidst the heavy encirclement of the General Affairs Department and easily knock on her door in the dead of night undoubtedly proves the astonishing power that the Kingdom of Winter and Lord Pantalone behind Russell possess.

Leaving might be easy for Heuria, but what about her children? Will Ningguang be enraged by her disappearance and unleash her fury on the people of Silverground Hall?

And what fate awaits Ning Lan, the only remaining bloodline of King Ning Zhe?
Heureia remained silent, her heavy hesitation clearly etched between her furrowed brows.

Russell's gentle facade faded slightly. He walked to the dressing table, raised his knuckles, and tapped the surface twice lightly. His voice was steady yet carried a penetrating sharpness:
“I am well aware of your concerns, Your Majesty.”

"You can't let go of your children."

Russell paused briefly, his gaze fixed on Heurelia's suddenly raised face.

"Therefore, I have brought the child you care about most to you."

Heureia's breath hitched, and confusion instantly froze her previous worries.

"what?"

Her voice was tense, with a barely perceptible tremor, and her gaze swept anxiously across the empty room.

What...do you mean?

Russell steadily raised the hand that had just tapped the table, his index finger pointing precisely at the dark box. His voice, devoid of any feigned warmth, was now a cold declaration:
"This box contains Miss Ning Lan's ashes."

At first, Heureia didn't react to Russell's cold words, only blinking in confusion, as if trying to figure out how these words could form a complete sentence. It wasn't until Russell calmly turned the urn towards Heureia and deftly, yet cruelly, opened the lid.

A handful of snow-white, fine ashes appeared in the loving mother's eyes.

A cold, numbing sensation shot from the soles of Heuria's feet to the top of her head, almost draining all her strength. She staggered half a step, her fingers gripping the edge of the table tightly to barely keep her balance. Her vision began to black out and spin, and her ears were ringing. Only the phrase "Ning Lan's ashes" echoed repeatedly in her mind.

Condensed Light!

That woman, she clearly promised that as long as Herria handed over the power of salt, she would guarantee the survival of everyone in the Silver Plains Hall, especially Ning Lan, the only bloodline of the Human King Ning Zhe.

Heureia, who came from the era of the Demon God War, had long understood that oaths were unreliable, but out of trust in Morax, the God of Contracts, she still chose to believe Ningguang's promise.

But Liyue's "King of Men" broke her promise.

The contents of this box, this grayish-white dust, are the cruelest trampling of that vow.

A torrent of chilling cold and burning rage surged and tore through Heuria's chest as she desperately clung to the last vestiges of her crumbling sanity.

No... this might be a trick by some force, an attempt by the old man to sow discord, or perhaps some kind of test.

Heureia suddenly raised her head, her pale face devoid of color, only her eyes fixed intently on Russell's face.

Her voice was hoarse, trembling with suppressed emotion and a last glimmer of hope.

"Evidence... What evidence do you have to prove... this is Ning Lan? Just based on your empty words as a night intruder?"

Every word Heureia uttered seemed to be squeezed out from between her teeth, filled with desperate doubt.

The feigned sincerity on Russell's face vanished completely, leaving only a calm that bordered on pity—an indifference toward the dead. The old butler did not answer directly, but instead reached into his robes again.

He silently took out an object and gently placed it on the lid of the dark wooden box containing the ashes.

Under the dim candlelight, a rhombus-shaped crystal lay quietly, its core, which should have emitted an amber glow, now utterly lifeless.

The crystal was embedded in an unknown metal base, with a dark, worn-out braided rope tied to both sides.

The knot was clumsy yet familiar, a crooked, concentric knot... it was the Eye of God on Ning Lan's thigh.

Although in the distant past when Heuria slumbered, external elemental force guiding devices like the Eye of God had not yet appeared in Teyvat, the lingering fragrance of the crystal itself, and the unique old knot imbued with Ning Lan's feelings and preferences, were like two thunderbolts striking down, instantly shattering Heuria's last hope.

"Well…!"

A suppressed cry, like a dying sob, was squeezed out from the depths of Heureia's throat.

She remembered what the traveler had told her: the blond traveler said that Ninglan had been properly taken care of.

But what has she received now?
Heureia raised her hand and reached for the Eye of God, but just as her fingertips were about to touch the cold crystal, they suddenly recoiled as if burned by an invisible flame.

This is not proof of divine approval, but evidence that the contract has been ruthlessly torn apart. (End of Chapter)