Chapter 14: The Most Adorable Among a Thousand Blossoms (End)

Mars’s crimson eyes narrowed slightly, taking in every flicker of expression on Cynthia’s face.

A faint, almost imperceptible curve tugged at the corner of his lips; he found this little creature far more entertaining than any battle.

“Uncle…” Cynthia steeled herself, her voice hoarse as she called out, then began to gather her words: “They… they all want to snatch Cynthia’s cup…”

As she spoke, she struggled to squeeze out a single tear clinging to her long lashes, hesitating whether to let it fall, her nose tinged a delicate red, evoking a pitiful charm.

“Ah~ Don’t cry, kiddo, the cup’s yours! Here!”

“Whoa! Mars actually seems… really into this? (Shocked beyond belief.jpg)”

“Azathoth: I’m not jealous, not at all. I just want to kill every insignificant insect that makes the king shed tears, and that damned god. :)”

Mars’s low, rumbling laughter echoed through the still air, carrying a chilling delight. He did not rise but merely snapped his fingers.

Buzz!

A dark red halo suddenly spread outward from Cynthia, forming a translucent protective shield that enveloped both her and Azathoth.

“Now,” Mars propped his chin on his hand, his gaze resting on Cynthia as if admiring a play written solely for him, “no one will bother you. Little one, tell Uncle Mars—what do you want to do with this cup?”

His voice was surprisingly gentle, yet the omnipresent oppressive aura weighed heavily on every qualified contestant, a reminder of the terrifying entity this “uncle” truly was.

Cynthia’s mind raced.

To be honest, should she admit that some contestant had carelessly tossed the cup her way?

No, that wouldn’t suit the image of the Abyssal Demon King.

Claiming she wanted to use it to store Abyssal power? Ridiculous.

In a flash of inspiration, she sniffed and spoke with a trembling, sincere tone, “I want to use the cup to drink Star Nebula Bubble Berry Milk…”

Silence.

An eerie, deathly silence.

Whether it was the trembling contestants standing far off, the viewers in the livestream, or even Azathoth cradling Cynthia, all froze for a moment.

Use the Eternal Holy Grail to drink bubble berry milk?

“…”

“…”

“What did I just hear?”

“Drinking fruit milk with an epic-level artifact? Kiddo, my dear kiddo, isn’t that reason just too refreshingly unique?”

“Mars: What did I just hear?”

“But thinking about it, Cynthia’s only nine years old. It’s not wrong for her to think that way…”

Mars himself was momentarily stunned, then burst into even louder laughter.

“Hahaha… Good! Very good!” Mars laughed heartily, “Using the Eternal Holy Grail for fruit milk! That’s an idea, but little one, you might never finish it all.”

After a long laugh, he slowly quieted, his eyes once again fixed on Cynthia, the crimson depths sparkling with playful amusement.

“Since you like it so much, then Uncle allows you to take the cup back and drink your fruit milk.”

At these words, the entire arena was shocked.

Although the Oracle had not directly announced the Grail’s ownership, the God of Destruction Mars’s personal acknowledgment was tantamount to granting the Eternal Holy Grail’s rights to this Abyssal child.

Countless eyes immediately fixed on Cynthia, but under Mars’s overwhelming pressure and the terrifying protective aura, none dared to move an inch.

Cynthia herself was stunned.

This… was it really that simple?

A little coaxing, an outrageous excuse, and it was done?

The Cute King Development System really had some tricks up its sleeve!

[Ding! Main character’s acting exploded with infinite cuteness. Awarded +10 cuteness points. Current cuteness: 212/300 (Level 2).]

The pink notification box popped up just as the Oracle announced.

“Attention! Temporary holders of the Eternal Holy Grail: Team Cynthia & Azathoth. Trial arena closes in 30 seconds.”

At the Oracle’s voice, Mars clicked his tongue in mild displeasure.

“Little one, want to come back to the Destruction Shrine with Uncle? There are many treasures there, countless sparkling gems.”

As he spoke, Mars rose from his throne. The massive throne behind him decomposed, transforming into steps beneath his feet.

“The Abyss isn’t suitable for you; the Destruction Shrine will be your new home.” Mars’s figure drew closer.

Azathoth’s body tensed instantly. To take away his king, one would first have to step over his corpse.

Cynthia was stunned, her ruby-like eyes wide as if she had just heard something unbelievable.

To the gods, the Abyssal race was filthy, tainted, and unworthy of existence.

Yet now, Mars was inviting an Abyssal child to his Destruction Shrine. A blunt, “Mars, are you out of your mind?” slipped out of Cynthia’s mouth.

No sooner had the words left her lips did she regret it. How could she have said that?

It was over. The era of the Abyssal Demon King was about to fall.

Mars halted mid-step, seemingly unable to immediately grasp what he had just heard.

The silence around was terrifying.

Even the distant contestants forgot to tremble, dumbfounded, their faces screaming, “How dare she?!”

“…”

“I… what did I just hear???”

“Kid!!! My treasure!!! What did you say?!”

“(Pinching the philtrum frantically) Quick! Tell her that’s the God of Destruction!”

“It’s over, it’s all over! If Mars gets angry, the entire trial arena goes down with him!”

“Azathoth: My king! Why did you just self-destruct? (Peaceful closing eyes.jpg)”

Azathoth tightened his grip around Cynthia’s arm, his eyes locked on Mars, Abyssal power surging wildly within him, golden vertical pupils shimmering with resolve for mutual destruction.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly.

Yet the anticipated furious wrath never came.

“Heh…” A low chuckle escaped Mars’s throat.

Then the laughter grew louder and louder, no longer the playful delight from before, but filled with madness and the thrill of discovering a rare treasure.

“Hahahahaha! The Abyss… truly always births the most fascinating creations.”

Mars laughed so hard his shoulders shook, and the aura of destruction around him no longer oppressed but danced wildly, causing the entire space to hum and tremble.

Suddenly he stopped laughing, his crimson eyes locking onto Cynthia’s once more, burning hot enough to ignite her.

Mars approached step by step. Azathoth’s hostility and vigilance were meaningless to him; his gaze was fixed solely on Cynthia’s face, which plainly showed, “I’ve screwed up by speaking out.”

“Little one,” his voice dropped low, laced with deadly temptation and pressure, “just for that sentence alone, the Destruction Shrine—you’ve claimed it.”

“???”

“I never expected this development…”

“She insulted him… and he’s even more interested???”

“Lord Mars, your tastes are truly unique!”

“So this is the world of the strong? (Dazed.jpg)”

“No one can take away our king.” Azathoth’s voice was ice-cold, barely a whisper through clenched teeth.

Mars didn’t even glance at him, as if his words were mere background noise. All his attention was fixed on Cynthia.

Cynthia’s heart pounded wildly, nearly leaping out of her throat. She stared into Mars’s obsessively interested red eyes, her mind a chaotic mess.

Why didn’t the Cute King Development System alert me now? That idiot system chatters all the time but fails at crucial moments—useless!

Instinctively, Cynthia clutched Azathoth’s collar tighter.

At the critical moment, the Oracle’s announcement rang out.

“Attention! Trial arena closing countdown: 5…”

Mars frowned in annoyance. “Such a downer.”

He knew the rules: even he could not forcibly detain a contestant after the arena closed.

He cast a deep look at Cynthia, as if engraving her image forever.

“We will meet again soon, little one.” A dangerous, charming smile curled his lips. “Remember, your Uncle Mars’s Destruction Shrine will always be waiting for you.”

“4…”

The dark red protective shield vanished instantly.

“3…”

“2…”

“1…”

Mars returned to his massive throne. The surroundings began to blur as teleportation beams lit up one by one, and the contestants were teleported out of the Lost Ruins.