Honkai Impact: My Power Grows When Valkyries Fall For Me — Chapter 91

Chapter 91: The London Eye

Evening settled over London, the setting sun bathing the entire city in a warm, orange glow.

Lucian and Durandal walked in a comfortable silence along the banks of the Thames. The river’s surface was a mirror, reflecting the fiery hues of the sunset. Occasionally, a tourist boat would glide past, its passage stirring the placid water into a cascade of gentle ripples.

Lucian’s gaze drifted over the water, his pace unhurried and thoughtful. Durandal walked beside him, a silent companion matching his stride for stride. The quiet between them wasn’t awkward; it was a shared moment of peace after the day’s chaos.

After a long while, it was Durandal who finally broke the silence.

“Lucian.”

“Hmm?” he hummed, turning his head slightly.

“About what happened today,” she began, her voice even and clear. “You know something, don’t you?”

Lucian’s steps faltered for a fraction of a second, a barely perceptible hitch in his gait. He turned to look at her fully, a carefully neutral expression on his face. “What makes you think that?”

“Because your expression gave you away.”

He was taken aback for a moment, then let out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. “My expression?”

“Yes,” Durandal affirmed, nodding once. Her gaze remained fixed on him, calm and unyielding. “I noticed it earlier. When you saw that Honkai Beast, your expression was… as if you already knew this would happen.”

Lucian’s steps came to a complete halt. He turned, squaring his shoulders to face her directly.

Durandal stopped as well, placing her hands on her hips in a relaxed but attentive stance, watching him quietly.

He let out a slow breath. “I do know a little.”

“Specifically?”

Night had fully descended upon London. The lights strung along the Thames reflected on the water’s surface, shimmering and swaying with the gentle current. Lucian and Durandal stood side by side, leaning against the riverbank railing as the cool evening breeze carried the faint, earthy scent of the river between them.

Lucian was silent for several seconds, his brow furrowed as if carefully choosing his words.

“The organization behind that Honkai Beast,” he finally said, his voice low. “It’s the World Serpent.”

Durandal nodded lightly, her expression unreadable. She didn’t press for more details, didn’t ask how he knew. She simply listened, her gaze returning to the dark, glittering expanse of the river.

They fell into silence again, the city’s ambient hum filling the space between them.

After a long moment, Durandal spoke once more, her voice softer this time. “What ability did you use when you helped Rita earlier?”

The question was posed so gently it sounded like a casual inquiry, but Lucian knew it was anything but. He was momentarily stunned, turning to look at her profile.

Durandal didn’t meet his eyes, her gaze still fixed on the water, her expression placid.

“It was just a special application of Honkai Energy,” he answered carefully.

“Honkai Energy that can heal others?” Durandal turned her head then, her piercing blue eyes meeting his. They held a spark of genuine, analytical inquiry.

Lucian considered his options for a moment before deciding that with her, honesty was the only path.

“You could say… it’s my own Authority.”

“Authority?” Durandal repeated the word, a flicker of something—surprise, perhaps—crossing her features for the first time. “You’re a Herrscher, too?”

“You could say that,” Lucian confirmed with a slight shrug, his tone laced with a trace of weary helplessness. “Though, to be honest, even I’m not entirely sure what that means.”

Durandal looked at him, her gaze intense, searching his face for a few silent, charged seconds. Then, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“I understand.”

And that was it. She didn’t ask any more questions. She didn’t ask what his Authority was, or how he, a Herrscher, could remain so rational and in control. She just offered that simple, two-word reply and turned to continue watching the river flow by.

Lucian stared at her calm profile, a sense of deep surprise washing over him. “Aren’t you going to ask more?”

Durandal turned back to him. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready to.” Her voice was soft, yet her tone was absolute, filled with a certainty that left no room for doubt. “And…”

She paused, the corners of her lips lifting into an impossibly faint curve, a ghost of a smile that transformed her usually stern features. “You helped Rita earlier. For that, I should thank you.”

“There’s no need,” he said, his own voice gentle.

Durandal’s gaze met his, and for a few seconds, the bustling city of London seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them under the vast night sky.

It was Durandal who broke the spell first, looking away toward the horizon. “Shall we continue?”

Lucian followed her gaze. In the distance, a colossal Ferris wheel stood illuminated against the night, its brilliant lights making it the centerpiece of the skyline. The cabins rotated in a slow, graceful arc, carrying batch after batch of tourists up into the sky before gently bringing them back down.

“Go there now?” he asked.

Durandal nodded.

“Alright.”

The two walked along the riverbank, making their way toward the London Eye. The Thames at night was quieter than it had been at sunset, the silence broken only by the distant hum of traffic and the soft lapping of water against the stone embankment. The streetlights cast warm, yellow halos on the pavement, stretching their shadows long behind them.

Lucian walked at a leisurely pace, his eyes occasionally drawn to the ever-approaching Ferris wheel. Durandal kept pace at his side, her steps just as unhurried.

As they drew near the massive structure, Lucian suddenly spoke. “Seems like it’s going to be crowded…”

Durandal stopped, following his gaze. The London Eye was even more vibrant at night. Each cabin glowed with a warm, inviting light, like a string of pearls draped across the dark canvas of the sky. The queue, however, was a different story. It snaked and twisted, a human serpent stretching from the entrance all the way to the edge of the public square.

“It is crowded,” Durandal observed softly, her eyes scanning the long line.

Lucian stood beside her, looking at the seemingly endless queue, and let out a light sigh. “If we have to line up, we’ll probably be waiting for a very long time.”

Durandal didn’t speak. She just stood there, quietly watching the throng of people. Lucian thought she was hesitating, weighing whether the wait was worth it. But then, she suddenly moved.

She turned her head to look at him, and he saw a subtle, mischievous gleam in her brilliant blue eyes.

“Follow me.”

With those two words, she turned and walked in a different direction. Lucian was momentarily stunned but quickly fell into step behind her.

Durandal didn’t head for the main entrance. Instead, she circled around to the side of the London Eye, toward an inconspicuous small door guarded by a uniformed staff member.

Seeing Durandal approach, the staff member was visibly taken aback. Then, a look of recognition dawned on her face, and her professional posture immediately shifted to one of deep respect.

“Lady Durandal!” she exclaimed, her voice hushed but her tone unmistakable.

Durandal gave a curt nod. “Can you arrange a cabin for us?”

“Of course, of course!” The staff member nodded repeatedly, fumbling for her walkie-talkie in a fluster. “Please wait just a moment, I’ll arrange it right away!”

Standing behind Durandal, Lucian watched the scene unfold, the corner of his mouth twitching. For a moment, he could almost hear a ridiculously elegant, classical tune playing in his head—the kind of music reserved for a queen making a grand entrance in a historical drama.

Two minutes later, they were boarding their private cabin on the Ferris wheel.

The door closed softly behind them, sealing them in a bubble of quiet and cutting off the noise of the world outside. The cabin began its slow, smooth ascent.

Lucian looked out through the panoramic glass, his field of view expanding with every foot they climbed. The Thames wound through the city below like a ribbon of black silk, the lights on its banks twinkling like scattered diamonds. The distant buildings gradually shrank, and soon, the entirety of London was laid out beneath their feet, a stunning mix of light and shadow.

“Is it beautiful?” Durandal’s voice came from beside him, soft in the quiet of the cabin.

Lucian turned his head, meeting her gaze. In the warm, gentle light of the cabin, her blue eyes seemed to hold a special softness.

He nodded, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “It’s incredible. I don’t know how to describe it.”

Durandal looked at him, the faint curve returning to her lips. “No need to describe it,” she said softly, her gaze returning to the window and the magnificent view beyond.

“Just look.”