Silence filled the room briefly. Jester lightly adjusted the book in his hand before adding, "Truthfully speaking, there is probably no better vessel to house a revived soul than a clone personally created by my lord’s Genesis Body skill. Those bodies possess immense vitality, adaptability, and almost perfect spiritual compatibility. Especially if carefully prepared beforehand."

The moment those words fell, SMACK.

Michael directly slapped the back of Jester’s head. The sound echoed sharply through the quiet room.

Jester’s head tilted slightly forward. "...?"

Michael’s face darkened. "If that was all we needed to do, then why the hell did you complicate things so much?"

Jester remained silent for a moment, then calmly adjusted his posture again as though nothing happened. "My lord did not ask for the simplified version."

Michael ignored him entirely.

Instead, his thoughts rapidly began organizing themselves. For the first time since seeing Arianne’s severed head, a clear direction finally appeared.

It was possible. Actually possible.

Not turning her into an ordinary undead. Undead was a broad term. A ghost could count as undead, but a ghost was far better than a zombie.

Since it was possible to truly bring her back, Michael’s clouded mind cooled a little.

Of course, all of this still depended on how complete her remaining soul was, which meant he needed to go to the kingdom capital to recover the remaining soul fragments and body parts before further deterioration occurred. Afterward, with Jester’s help, they would first reconstruct and stabilize her soul, turn it temporarily into a ghost-like state, cleanse away the death energy and corruption, merge it together with the harvested memories and consciousness, then finally place the reconstructed soul into a clone body created through his Genesis Body skill. A body similar to the one Jester himself currently inhabited.

The more Michael thought about it, the clearer the process became. His previously chaotic emotions slowly stabilized slightly.

At the very least, Arianne’s death no longer felt completely irreversible.

Michael slowly lowered his gaze toward Arianne’s pale face again. For several seconds, he remained silent.

Then quietly muttered, "Hold on a little longer."

Jester observed him silently from the side. Then after a moment, he calmly added, "However, my lord should still prepare himself mentally."

Michael looked toward him.

Jester’s eyes narrowed faintly. "Even if successful, she may not return completely unchanged. Some memories may disappear permanently. Certain aspects of personality may shift slightly."

Michael remained silent. But his expression did not change.

Compared to death, those possibilities meant nothing. As long as she could live again.

Of course the empire still needed to pay. Since they could go this far, they could go even further.

Meanwhile, in the Lionheart capital city, inside a room in the Evermoon Manor, a sickly-looking man could be seen lounging among several women. If Michael was here, he would have noticed that some of the girls looked familiar. They were actually maids of the Evermoon Manor.

Soon, two knocks echoed from outside the room. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

The sickly-looking man lying amidst the women did not react immediately. His expression remained lazy while one of the girls nervously fed him wine.

Three more knocks came again. This time, the prince’s brows furrowed slightly in annoyance.

"...Enter."

The door slowly opened afterward. A middle-aged man wearing black robes stepped inside calmly. His expression remained completely indifferent even while looking at the scene before him.

Several women. The strong scent of lust and alcohol. The Third Prince lying half-dressed upon the large bed. None of it caused even the slightest ripple in the middle-aged man’s eyes.

He merely gave a small bow. "Third Prince."

The sickly-looking man gave a gentle smile. "What is it that Master Veyl wants?"

Despite his circumstances, the prince still maintained proper respect. After all, the man before him was a Great Stage existence, and more importantly, his guardian.

The black-robed middle-aged man remained silent briefly before calmly speaking. "There is a problem."

The Third Prince lazily narrowed his eyes. "What problem?"

The middle-aged man hesitated slightly. That hesitation immediately irritated the prince. His smile faded somewhat.

"Speak clearly."

The black-robed man remained silent briefly before finally saying, "...It would be better if Your Highness came outside personally."

The Third Prince frowned. "What happened?"

"The flying ship you sent out earlier returned. And something is wrong with it."

The moment those words fell, the Third Prince’s interest was finally piqued slightly. Naturally, he knew exactly which ship the man referred to. The same ship sent toward Thornvale.

Thinking of that matter, a cruel smile faintly surfaced on the prince’s face again. Truthfully speaking, he still somewhat regretted killing the woman so quickly. She was beautiful. Very beautiful. And the expression on her face after realizing there was no escape had been particularly enjoyable.

Unfortunately, the pain from his destroyed testicle had completely enraged him at the time. Even now it still hurt.

Still, thinking about the reaction that Viscount Mic would probably show after receiving that gift improved his mood slightly. He didn’t even know the man personally, yet he already felt satisfied.

The prince slowly pushed away the women around him before standing up. "Interesting."

Since even Master Veyl had personally come to inform him, it likely wasn’t something minor. The Third Prince no longer bothered asking further questions and instead casually began dressing himself.

Meanwhile, the black-robed middle-aged man quietly waited near the door.

Several minutes later, the prince finally stepped outside. As he walked through the corridor, he lazily waved toward the guards nearby.

"Prepare a fresh group of women for tonight."

The guards immediately bowed. "Yes, Your Highness!"

Soon afterward, the Third Prince and the black-robed man arrived at the flying port within the Lionheart capital. The atmosphere there felt unusually tense. Numerous guards and servants stood around nervously while maintaining distance from a particular flying ship docked nearby.

The moment the Third Prince arrived, his eyes immediately landed on another familiar figure.

Princess Priscilla.

The princess stood nearby silently with a pale expression. Her gaze remained fixed toward the flying ship ahead.

The Third Prince immediately smiled faintly. "Well, well... if it isn’t the Grand Princess."

Priscilla ignored him entirely.

The prince chuckled softly. "What’s wrong? Still angry about the Evermoon girl?"

No response came. Priscilla didn’t even turn her head.

The Third Prince’s smile widened slightly. "Truthfully speaking, she was rather entertaining..."

"Enough."

Master Veyl’s calm voice suddenly interrupted him. The prince clicked his tongue slightly in annoyance but still stopped speaking. After all, even he understood there were limits. If it wasn’t for the guardians he had brought along, a Great Stage being like Princess Priscilla would not have been so helpless against him regardless of his imperial status.

Unfortunately, it was a pity he couldn’t have this woman. He also didn’t dare to, at this point.

Soon, his gaze finally shifted fully toward the flying ship before them. Immediately, his brows furrowed.