The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

Chapter 194 The King is a disgrace to the Gauls, the Queen

The voice from behind the curtains sounded again: "Thank you so much, Marquis."

Marie Antoinette's voice sounded extremely languid: "I am a trendsetter in the Parisian fashion scene, and countless ladies and young women follow my hairstyle, clothing, and style."

But you know, a woman like me, no matter how much I dress up, will still grow old one day.

The curtains swayed slightly, and she seemed to casually turn over inside. The hand that was resting on the blanket changed position, but it still looked comfortable and relaxed.

"You only need one or two million livres to solve this problem for me." She paused, "Although it does hurt a bit."

Although Queen Mary was already in her thirties at this time, her voice and tone still sounded like that of a young, arrogant noblewoman.

De La Motte stood by the bedside, responding calmly, "It is my honor, Your Majesty."

Isabella pressed herself against the relief outside the window, the night wind making her hands slightly cold.

Her and Zhang Chang'an's guess was correct. In France, besides King Louis XVI, only Queen Marie Antoinette had the ability to fund experiments of this level.

Marie Antoinette. Although she shares the same name as Mary, she is not the Bloody Mary Queen of England.

This "little woman" who was the darling of Louis XVI: did not have the cruel and brutal legend of Bloody Mary drinking the blood of young girls that has been passed down through the ages.

The line in her confession, "If people have no bread, why don't they eat cake?" may not actually have come from her mouth.

However, her extravagance and the depletion of the French treasury were indeed a tremendous devastation to France.

One or two million livres was just a small amount to her, which was indeed quite consistent with her lifestyle.

The Little Trianon Palace, though originally the palace of the king's mistress, had undergone a thorough renovation before being handed over to her.

The Temple of Aphrodite, the artificial lake, and even the rustic buildings like thatched cottages and mills were all added later. The interior decoration and renovation were extremely elaborate.

In total, it cost more than 700,000 francs, which is more than 700,000 livres.

That's a sum of money that a worker could earn even if he worked himself to the bone all day.

Only on a whim could a queen build sheepfolds and mills in the palace to give her a taste of rural life.

That's why so much money is spent on things like eternal youth, and why so many people die needlessly in dark dungeons.

Isabella's fingers, which were gripping the relief, loosened slightly, then tightened again.

She took a deep breath and looked into the room again. She hadn't come here to eliminate the mastermind behind the scenes.

Their motivation is very simple: to confirm whether the person behind them is as they think.

Their ultimate goal was to expose the suffering caused by the secret alchemy experiments in the Bastille to more Parisians.

Identifying the mastermind is the first step.

She needs to stay here to find out more details, such as the routes the experimental subjects were transported to, or whether their bodies might be disposed of elsewhere.

Only in this way can she go back and discuss the next steps with Zhang Chang'an, gather the poor people outside, attack a certain transport, or use other methods to officially expose the secrets of these experimental subjects and the Queen, so that the rest can proceed naturally.

As long as they succeed, even if things don't go as planned, this massive event will be enough to make people forget about the Iris Murder Case.

This caused the nobles to turn their attention elsewhere.

"Oh, Marquis, I feel my body—this Philosopher's Stone is truly amazing."

Queen Mary's body moved slowly on the bed, her silk nightgown rustling against the sheets.

De La Motte responded with a flat, indifferent tone.

"The Philosopher's Stone is the culmination of all alchemy," he said, his voice low but echoing among the instruments. "It is the ultimate purification, the final form of value elevation, immortality extracted from decay."

He spoke these words, which he knew all too well, and calmly walked to the row of instruments by the bed and turned the valve on the top of the glass container.

He then turned around and walked to the middle of the metal coffins, bent down, and adjusted the pressure gauge on the side of one of the coffins.

Queen Mary showed no reaction to the definitions of alchemy. Her voice remained languid, even now carrying a hint of allure.

"My lord, I don't understand these things. But I can feel my body truly regaining its youth, becoming younger and more energetic."

De Lamothe didn't reply. He simply straightened up and continued adjusting the instruments.

Then Queen Mary's voice came from behind the curtain again: "Tell me, why can't my beloved, His Majesty the Sixteenth, accept such a wonderful thing?"

After turning another valve, De Lamot stopped.

He had now taken his place on the opposite side of the bed, with his back to the window, his body nestled among the complex bronze or glass instruments.

Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating his profile and casting a half-light, half-shadow effect on his high nose bridge and deep-set eyes.

"The king is too weak." His voice was flat and cold. The decorum that had been maintained around him vanished without a trace.

The body beneath the curtain visibly stiffened. The fingertips of the hand resting on the blanket clenched into the palm.

Interestingly, in later accounts of the French Revolution, Marie Antoinette, a seemingly flamboyant woman who only knew fashion and extravagance, was a rare figure who stood up for the monarchy and upheld royal power, even more so than Louis XVI.

But at this moment, hearing De La Motte's direct words, she couldn't help but be taken aback.

She opened her mouth, about to say something to gloss over the sentence.

De La Motte then spoke again: "Louis Auguste, and even His Majesty the XV, are complete cowards."

They were all pathetic wretches who held royal power but had not a shred of Gallic spirit.

Queen Mary's voice came from behind the curtain, carrying a suppressed but undisguised surprise.

"My lord, these words—"

Before she could finish speaking, de la Motte turned on the last valve on the instrument and turned off another switch, causing the pointer on the pressure gauge to bounce rapidly.

Then, his voice rang out again in the room: "Everything has its tides, everything has its rise and fall. Every cause has its effect, and every effect has its cause."

Ancient syllables vibrated in the air, striking the walls, glass containers, and metal coffins, overlapping to create a buzzing sound that sent shivers down one's spine.

"Crack!" Fine ripples appeared on the surface of the dark red liquid inside the glass containers, spreading from the center to the edge and then bouncing back to the center, as if something had stirred it from the inside.

The transmutation array patterns on the metal coffin lid lit up instantly. Blue and white light traveled along the engravings, flowing from one end to the other, flashing at each node, and then continuing forward.

The liquid level in the glass container began to drop rapidly. It was as if a huge hole had appeared, causing the liquid at the bottom of the container to leak out.

The dark red liquid gushed out from the tube, quickly flowing towards the bed covered by the curtains, and towards the hand with the silver needles stuck in it.