However, at this exact second, Kazuki felt an overwhelming surge of confidence.
He was holding the power of an Emanator.
Back on Earth, this was the kind of absurd, world-breaking combat prowess that demanded absolute submission—the sort of untouchable entity that could casually declare themselves the ruler of the globe.
He almost blurted out that classic, overbearing CEO line: “Woman, you have successfully caught my attention.”
Swallowing the cheesy dialogue just before it left his lips, he shifted his focus and dived straight into the system space.
The outside world ground to an absolute halt, time freezing in its tracks.
Staring at the [Emanator of Beauty Herta] card, he shouted the required activation phrase at the top of his lungs.
“Herta is truly beautiful and kind-hearted!”
With that, he plunged headfirst into the Card Space.
A violent sensation of displacement instantly swallowed him whole.
His body was dragged into a massive nebula tunnel woven entirely from thick oil paints and orchestral sound waves.
Cobalt blue, gamboge, and vivid violet churned violently around him, smearing together like wet frescoes on a grand cathedral wall.
His ears flooded with the intertwined, soaring melodies of violins and grand pianos.
Even drawing a breath felt like stepping in perfect time to the heavy beat of a waltz.
It was a place of staggering beauty, yet laced with lethal danger.
If a traveler’s willpower wavered for even a fraction of a second, they would instantly dissolve into a meaningless wisp of pigment or a stray musical note, melting forever into this torrential flood of The Beauty without leaving so much as a ripple behind.
When solid ground finally materialized beneath his boots, the deafening sound waves and blinding colors vanished.
Kazuki looked up, his breath catching in his throat.
He stood at the edge of a massive plaza paved with piano keys as pristine as white ivory.
The marble patterns beneath his feet formed the stark black and white layout of a grand keyboard, stretching endlessly toward a miraculous, towering structure in the center of the city.
A sudden flash of inspiration hit him, and the location’s name surfaced in his mind: the Clock Tower of Herta City.
This was the personal domain of [Emanator of Beauty Herta], a sprawling metropolis countless times larger than Okhema.
If he had to rely on his ordinary human legs, he could walk for an entire lifetime and still never reach the central spire where she resided.
Fortunately, the Card Space granted him absolute authority to teleport anywhere within its borders; otherwise, he would have been hopelessly stranded.
Instead of rushing to find her, Kazuki decided to take his time, leisurely admiring the sheer artistic excess of this Emanator’s domain.
The walkway wrapped around the entirety of Herta City, a metropolis crafted entirely from pure art.
The towering buildings mimicked the delicate tiptoes of ballet dancers or the sweeping folds of unfolded parchment sheet music.
Whenever a breeze swept through the streets, the entire row of architecture would hum a haunting nocturne.
Every streetlight was a carefully carved sculpture of Herta holding a candle.
Their warm, flickering glow cast light like the deliberate brushstrokes of an oil painting, bathing the streets in a soft, golden aura.
As the wind tore petals from unseen branches, their falling trajectories perfectly traced the mid-air dance steps of a ballerina, each petal landing precisely on the heavy downbeat of the city’s ambient melody.
And the Clock Tower in the center was the undisputed soul of this masterpiece.
The tower’s main body captured the frozen, elegant posture of a ballet principal taking her final bow.
The white, jade-like stone was heavily inlaid with gilded musical staves, while the complex reliefs carved into its surface depicted countless moving moments of art being born across the galaxy.
The spire possessed no clock face.
Instead, twelve distinct sculptures of Herta, each holding a different musical instrument, kept the time.
The pendulum swinging below consisted of two massive silk ribbons resembling flowing water sleeves, swaying back and forth in a rhythmic dance.
The light dust stirred by their movement coalesced into fleeting, glowing musical notes and phantom dancers.
Legend claimed that only when a soul truly harmonized with beauty would the tower ring with a grand, sweeping chime, striking directly into the softest part of a person’s heart.
As he stood there admiring the view, two life-sized puppets materialized silently at his side—one dressed as a classical ballet dancer, the other as an opera diva.
They recited a synchronized, elegant welcome message.
A second later, the ballet puppet rose onto her tiptoes to dance a flawless waltz, while the diva unleashed a soaring, melodious aria.
The performance instantly shocked all of Kazuki’s senses wide awake.
Suddenly, he could hear the microscopic rustle of trembling petals.
He could perceive hundreds of nameless, impossible colors hidden within the daylight.
He could physically feel the ambient melody sliding over his fingers like cold silk.
This was no rigid, mechanical system calibration; it was a gentle, intimate gift from the Emanator of Beauty herself.
Kazuki stepped forward onto the piano key walkway.
The instant his toe touched the marble, a crisp, flawless piano note rang out.
One step, one note.
As he walked, the sounds linked together into a unique melody that belonged solely to him, capturing the bizarre wonder of his transmigration and the irrepressible, high-spirited energy of his youth.
The harmonies carried by the wind immediately echoed his tune.
The candle-holding streetlights flared to life one by one, tracking his movements like stage spotlights guiding a lead actor.
The lingering adrenaline and panic from his battles in the outside world were entirely smoothed away.
At the end of the long walkway stood a massive, harp-shaped pendulum door.
An ivory plectrum mechanism instantly locked onto his heartbeat and his exclusive melody, adjusting the rhythm of its swing to match his pulse perfectly.
The giant strings chimed softly, and the heavy doors slowly parted, revealing an endless, cavernous theater hall inside.
A single, brilliant spotlight cut through the darkness, falling steadily onto the center of the grand stage.
Herta stood directly in its beam.
She looked completely different from the witch-outfitted Erudition version he knew from the outside world.
Here, she wore an complex headpiece crafted from silver bells, captured stars, and luminous pearls.
She was dressed in a flowing, elegant gown with a long trailing skirt, her slender legs wrapped in sheer black stockings and elevated by thin, sharp high heels.
She shone just as brightly as the blinding light illuminating the stage.
[Emanator of Beauty Herta].
She watched Kazuki standing frozen in the doorway, and the corners of her mouth curled upward into a deeply amused smirk.
Her voice rang out, clear and crisp, dripping with teasing arrogance.
“You seemed quite confident when you were screaming ‘beautiful and kind-hearted’ outside just now, didn’t you?
What’s wrong?
Now that you’re finally face-to-face with this genius, you’ve lost your ability to speak?”
Kazuki suppressed a sigh.
A genius who dedicates herself to art is still an insufferable genius.
With a lazy, elegant tap of her fingertip against the empty air, a plush velvet chair materialized directly behind Kazuki, accompanied by a small table bearing a steaming cup of hot cocoa.
The unique melody he had just created on the walkway began to flow softly through the theater’s acoustics.
“To be able to walk all the way here without dissolving…
you actually have some taste,” she noted, tilting her head.
She raised a delicate eyebrow, her eyes sparkling as if they contained an entire spinning galaxy.
“Speak.
Having trespassed into my personal domain, what is it you desire?
A peerless song of the stars, a shocking dance routine, or…
do you simply wish to sit down and listen to the ‘Coronet of Light Dust: Hymn of the Knights of Beauty’ that I composed myself?”
“I originally just wanted to tell you that I need to borrow your identity,” Kazuki said, stepping forward and looking at her with genuine curiosity.
“But now I’m far more interested in something else.
How could you actually hear what I was saying outside the card?”
“What else did you expect?” Herta shrugged, admitting it with absolute, unapologetic ease.
“Although I am technically dead, I am fundamentally different from those ordinary, lifeless cards.”
“You truly are beautiful, and your artistic talent is genuinely terrifying.
You’re more than worthy of being an Emanator of Beauty,” Kazuki offered, his praise entirely sincere.
“Hmph.
Being able to draw me at all means you should count yourself incredibly lucky to have received the favor of Idrila,” Herta laughed, her expression radiating smug satisfaction.
“After all, if I hadn’t been the very first to step onto the Path of Beauty and claim the title of Emanator, Xipe the Harmony would have undoubtedly begged to make me an Emanator of Harmony as well.”
Kazuki took a slow sip of his hot cocoa, letting the warmth settle before retorting mercilessly.
“You and that Emanator of Erudition version of yourself outside are cut from the exact same cloth.
You’re both equally, hopelessly narcissistic.”
“A version of me actually caught the eye of that boring mechanical head?” Herta looked momentarily surprised, but instantly pivoted back to her default state of absolute self-worship.
“Well, it’s only natural.
As expected, even if I change my identity and walk an entirely different Path, my sheer charm remains omnipresent.”
Listening to her spin an insult into a compliment, Kazuki felt a wave of deep exhaustion wash over him.
It turned out that for every three sentences this woman spoke, two and a half of them were dedicated entirely to praising herself.
No wonder her ultimate system wish was so absurdly specific: ‘Make at least three beings of Emanator level or higher sincerely praise that Ms.
Herta’s beauty is unmatched in the world.’ This level of narcissism wasn’t just a personality trait; it was carved directly into her DNA.
[Elysian’s Note:
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