49 Apocalypse Rules

Sisiya Country. Saint Kies Castle.

Inside the magnificent palace, a young man and a young woman stood side-by-side, looking at an empty, golden chair before them.

Their facial structures were similar, and they shared the same pale-gold hair and silvery-white eyelashes—clear signs of their shared bloodline.

At this moment, both wore frigid expressions, and the atmosphere was icy.

After a moment, the young man was the first to break the silence.

"Yelena, you don’t really think that after running off to some academy at North Star for two months, you can come back and compete with me, do you?"

"If you thought I couldn’t, then why did you send people to threaten my teacher?" Yelena said coldly. "Wouldn’t that be a waste of effort?"

Hearing this, the young man’s expression turned awkward. He scoffed, "I’ll threaten whoever I want. What’s a mere teacher?"

"..."

Yelena recalled how, before she left, Guan Tong had made a point of telling her he would come to Sisiya in the future. The implication was clear: he was coming to settle accounts with her brother.

"But you’re pretty ruthless yourself," the young man said, glancing sideways at his sister. "You had my men killed just like that, without so much as a word."

Yelena didn’t deny it.

’It’s better to let him think I’m the one who had them killed. Knowing my brother, if he found out Guan Tong was the one who killed them, he’d fly into a humiliated rage and do something even more reckless.’

’I don’t want this despicable, scheming brother of mine bothering Guan Tong’s life again anytime soon.’

But she didn’t admit to it, either.

The thirteenth rule was still in effect, and lying during the Rule Stage would cause her to fail the challenge.

Fortunately, her brother wasn’t that bright. Seeing her silence, he took it as a tacit admission.

"It was Sikokun who helped you, wasn’t it? That woman... Sooner or later, I’ll make her understand who she should really be loyal to!"

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Just then, the sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps approached from outside.

At the sound, the young man immediately snapped his mouth shut, straightened his posture, and stared intently forward.

Soon, the owner of the footsteps reached them and sat upon the golden chair.

He was a middle-aged man with a buzz cut. His pale-gold hair complemented the golden chair beneath him.

But what was most striking about the man was his face.

One half was exceptionally handsome; the other was a mass of ugly burn scars.

"Yelena. Rijeka," the man said.

"Father," the two replied in unison.

"Next year, my duties will be handed over to one of you. If you want to withdraw, now is your last chance."

Rijeka replied without hesitation, "Father, you know that I will never withdraw."

"Nor will I, Father," Yelena said.

"Yelena, didn’t you hear what Father said? This is the last chance to withdraw!" Rijeka said, his voice heavy. "If you don’t back out now, I won’t show you any mercy later, even if you are my sister."

"That is what I wished to say to you, brother," Yelena retorted. "If you don’t withdraw now, I won’t show any mercy later either."

"Good. Very good." A cold glint flashed in Rijeka’s eyes. "Then we’ll just see who the winner will be."

Their father listened with a blank expression, then nodded. "Since no one has chosen to withdraw, the competition between you officially begins today. The winner, on January 1st of next year, will officially sit in this chair. As for the loser..."

He looked from his son to his daughter. "You know full well where you’ll be going."

"Yes. The loser will be exiled to Sennantata. We understand," said Rijeka.

Sennantata was the frozen wasteland of the Sisiya Country. It was a barren land where almost nothing grew, home to only a handful of people who spent their days in the company of biting winds and solid ice.

Their father rose and left.

After he was gone, Rijeka turned and sneered, "Sister, you’d better start preparing. Life in Sennantata is no picnic!"

Yelena ignored him, giving him a cool glance before turning to leave.

Rijeka watched her back recede into the distance, his sneer turning sullen.

’How dare she compete with me for the heir’s position. Even if she is my sister...’

He looked at the empty golden chair, the greed in his eyes practically overflowing. He suppressed the overwhelming urge to sit in it, strode quickly from the palace, and climbed into a black sedan waiting outside.

Seeing Rijeka’s expression in the rearview mirror, the driver spoke. "Lord Rijeka, from the look on your face, I take it your sister didn’t back down."

"Hmph. That little fool actually dares to compete with me!"

"If I may, my lord, you mustn’t be careless, confident as you are. The fact that your sister was willing to travel all the way to North Star Academy for her training shows one thing: she is determined to win. She will not give up easily."

Rijeka’s expression darkened as he looked up at the driver.

The man, who had a mustache, was both his driver and his advisor—his most trusted confidant.

"Gaelic, what do you suggest?"

"The simplest method is also the most direct," Gaelic said. "Make it so your sister cannot compete with you."

Rijeka’s interest was piqued. "You’re suggesting... we kill her?"

Gaelic smiled and shook his head. "Lord Rijeka, she is your sister, after all. Besides, your father wouldn’t be pleased if you killed her, would he?"

Rijeka caught on. "So you’re saying... as long as she’s injured too badly to compete, that’s enough."

Gaelic simply smiled in agreement.

"But... that damned woman, Sikokun, is protecting her. That’s going to be a problem," Rijeka said with a frown. "You know her strength. She’s one of the most powerful Ascenders in all of Sisiya."