"Hurry up and pull them out!" The mysterious voice crackled with urgency.

"Coming!" Yingning and I exchanged a glance. Beads of sweat glistened on her tense forehead. We dashed toward the stairs.

We had to pull the swords—no choice, or the quest stalled—but with strategy. No mindless yanking to play into their hands.

If pulling just one triggered a trap? Fine. I’d take the L. Offline, I’d hunt down that bastard game designer’s address.

Holding hands, we crept down the Great Pit’s steps, eyes narrowed against the glare, moving inch by inch.

The deeper we went, the fiercer the light blazed—blinding, swallowing everything around us.

No obstacles slowed us. *Thud.* Our feet hit solid ground. We’d reached the bottom.

Now, we squeezed our eyes shut completely, navigating by touch and memory alone.

Blindly, we inched toward the light’s source. My tail swept like a tentacle, probing the terrain. It brushed against something. I turned, fingers closing around a sword hilt.

No hesitation. I gripped it and yanked.

*Whirr!*

Silent. Effortless. The pink glow vanished instantly. The seamless triad of light fractured. Pressure lifted from Yingning and me.

[You obtained ??? Sword]

Only "???" showed—no stats, no description. Zero useful intel.

I turned away from the remaining lights, studying the blade.

A pink fine sword. Delicate, elegant—clearly forged for a woman. Its radiance had softened to a gentle shimmer, cool and refreshing to behold.

Intricate vines and unknown blossoms twined along the slender blade. From these carvings, real floral fragrance drifted—sweet, earthy, intoxicating.

Even more astonishing: two butterflies danced around the sword, fluttering as if among wildflowers.

The light dimmed sharply again. Yingning had pulled the white sword.

Reunited, we examined both blades.

Hers was an ice sword—crystalline, glacial, almost like diamond. Impossible to name the material. A fine sword too, but etched not with flowers, but with frosty mountain rivers. Mist curled around its blade. The Great Pit’s temperature dropped several degrees.

Yet the cold wasn’t biting. Touching it sent a crisp, energizing chill through your veins.

Yingning’s aura shifted. Not icy arrogance—pure, untouchable grace. Like a Moon Palace immortal. Her charm deepened: once heart-fluttering, now scream-worthy.

So I screamed.

"Ahhh! Master, you’re so ethereal! So beautiful! So cool!"

"Really…?" Yingning blinked, voice now airy, distant. "You’ve changed. What happened?"

*Me?* Had my sword boosted my charm too?

"Mmm… Before, you were a mischievous sprite. Now? Playful warmth mixed with gentle grace. You radiate comfort—a motherly aura. Truly… ladylike." She leaned close, sniffing my neck. "Even your scent softened. Less fox spirit, more blossom."

Damn women and their razor-sharp beauty radar.

This compliment soured my mood.

"Here, Master. Take it." I thrust the pink fine sword at her like hot coal.

"Store it in your pet pack. I’ve only one slot left."

Grumpily, I shoved the sword into my pack. The two butterflies fluttered in after it, vanishing.

Yingning sheathed her ice sword—but her immortal grace lingered, untouched.

Guess my "ladylike aura" was permanent too.

Awe for Zhui Xun II’s magic flickered through me. We didn’t linger.

Waving at the last golden light, we called out:

"Elder! We’re off! No need to thank us! We’re Lei Feng!"

Golden Light: "???!!!"