...

My heart wouldn’t settle, a wind-ruffled lake that wouldn’t go still. My mouth kept opening and closing like a stranded fish, no words coming. The Emperor of Flames was so shameless it made my fists itch—if I had the strength to swing.

“Yumigawa Sumeragi, you still want to go see that idiot, that useless big brother?” Her voice flicked like sparks, carrying scorn like winter frost.

The Emperor of Flames lay on a folding cot before the Fire Dragon Hall, basking in heat like a lizard on basalt. Yan Ya Princess wore a look like she’d found rot under a silk rug, disgust sharp as a blade. Yeah, I get it; if I had that kind of brother, I’d headbutt a wall like a ram and pray for amnesia.

“Ugh...” The sound leaked out, thin as steam off hot stone.

What do I do? A weight pressed on me like snow on bamboo—I’d never felt my own weakness this hard. If I had the strength, I’d challenge the Emperor of Flames without blinking, a hawk diving for prey. As Yan Ya Princess said, if I chose to meet his “condition” to clear this floor, it could be worse—who knows what mad demand he’d make, a storm with no shelter.

But... I can’t just give up, like a river dammed mid-course. Hill still waits for the Ice Dream Lotus to heal her, rain on a parched field. I’ve only reached the second layer; the road through the Nine Cold Labyrinth stretches like a winter plain, and success is a coin tossed into fog.

No. As a Sword Wielder, I don’t get to quit, not with the battlefield still red as dawn. Even if the enemy is strong and shameless like wildfire. I can’t slink out of the Nine Cold Labyrinth with my tail between my legs, a dog in rain. I’ll hear the Emperor of Flames’ condition first, then decide—even if refusing later is like trying to stop a landslide with bare hands.

With that thought, I sighed, a tired breeze through pine. “No helping it. I can’t give up easy.”

“Is that so? Fine.” She straightened a small, stubborn chest like a sparrow puffing feathers against the cold. “I can’t do much, but I’ll do my best to keep that idiot brother from touching you.”

“...Thanks.” The word felt like a pebble dropped in a deep well.

I wanted to cry, a cloud too heavy to hold its rain. Could I go back?

—No. Face it. My dream is to walk the whole world, a traveler chasing horizons. I can’t stumble on a pebble and call it a mountain.

“...Let’s go.”

“Mm!” Her agreement clicked like flint.

I steadied my breath, a sail catching wind, and took Yan Ya Princess’s small hand. We stepped out from behind the broad tree, leaving shade for the heat-hazed light, and headed toward the Fire Dragon Hall.

Half a minute later.

“Trash idiot big brother! Get up!” Her shout cracked like thunder.

We reached the cot, and before I could speak, Yan Ya Princess flicked a handful of fireballs, little suns streaking through the heat shimmer.

“O my sister! How couldst thou treat thy brother thus?!” He brushed the fire aside like dust on silk, then sat up slow, a serpent waking. When his gaze hit me, those beautiful, eerie eyes widened like a moon over a black lake.

“Gold, gold, gold...” The word trembled out of him, shaking like bells in a wind.

“Gold?” We both tilted our heads, puzzled like birds hearing a strange whistle.

“A golden-haired beautiful girl—!!!” He vanished from the cot like a spark gone in a gust, and appeared right before me. He grabbed my hands, eyes drowning me like deep wine. “Ah, golden-haired maiden~ I have fallen for thee. Marry me—be my wife!”

“...”

“...” Our silence dropped like stones.

We stared at him like you stare at a jester who forgot the joke, then—

“I’m a guy!!!” The shout cracked like a snapped bowstring.

My bracelet flashed back into the Shattered Light Sword, light slicing from hilt like dawn from a blade. I sent several arcs of Sword Aura at him, crescents of white cutting through heat.

Boom!!

“Ah! Such fierce love!!” His cry danced like a drunk bard’s song.

The Sword Aura hit, and he flew back like a comet, smashed into the black, scorching ground, carving out a crater that coughed smoke like a kiln.

A moment later.

The Emperor of Flames stood before me again, untouched, clothes clean as fresh linen. This time his swagger cooled a notch, calm pooling like still lava.

“You are Yumigawa Sumeragi, a challenger of the Nine Cold Labyrinth, seeking the third layer?” His words fell precise, a judge’s gavel.

He’d pulled my story from Yan Ya Princess like silk from a loom.

“Yeah.” I nodded, throat tight like a drumskin. Up this close, his beauty was a blade and his strength a mountain; breathing felt like hauling air through sand.

If he acted normal, he’d be disaster-grade handsome, a calamity in human shape. What a waste.

“I understand. Then...” He smiled, charming as lotus in firelight, and ran his gaze up and down me like a tailor measuring cloth. “Two ways to clear the second layer—defeat me, or satisfy one request of mine. Which will you choose?”

“...” If I could, I’d take the first, a wolf leaping the fence. But he’s at the peak of the Divine Realm; even at full force I probably couldn’t scratch him, a twig on a cliff. Weakness tastes like ash.

No point chewing that thought. Reality is a cold wash.

I drew a deep breath, like diving into a river, and shouted, surrender crisp as snow: “I choose the second! I’ll fulfill one of your conditions, okay?!”

“Of course! Rather, you must choose the second!” His joy burst like fireworks, arms waving as if tossing confetti into flame.

“Hah... then what’s your request?” I prayed under my breath like a traveler before a shrine—please don’t be too much, not marriage, not warming his bed.

“Please wait!” He flashed back into the Fire Dragon Hall, a gust through a doorway, and returned in under three seconds, holding something like a trophy.

“Be my maid!” He lifted it high, and it gleamed—an exquisitely made maid outfit, from headpiece to shoes, stitched like frost patterns on glass.

“Idiot big brother, as expected...” Yan Ya Princess turned away, face burning like embers. She wouldn’t look at him—shame folded around her like a cloak.

“Hey, hey!” I couldn’t help it; the protest popped like a hot kernel. “I’m a guy!”

“Heh! Being a guy doesn’t matter!” He struck a grand pose, pride soaring like a phoenix taking wing.

“Cuteness is justice! If you’re cute, gender isn’t worth a pebble. And you’ll absolutely suit this maid outfit—I can feel it!” His declaration rang like a bell over red stone.

Before I could answer, he thrust the outfit into my arms, forceful as a general pressing a banner.

“...” Speech left me, a candle snuffed. His line echoed something Xinuo said when we first met, words twin as reflections in water.

“The term?” I took the outfit, resignation heavy as rain. My stomach cramped like a knot; my head throbbed like a drum.

“As for the term... Though I’d say ‘a lifetime,’ the rules of the Nine Cold Labyrinth forbid it.” He frowned, thoughts circling like hawks.

After a long beat, he raised three fingers, decisive as a sword point. “Three days! If your service satisfies me, then in three days I’ll send you to the third layer!”

“Three days? Got it.” Three days isn’t much, a short storm over a flat sea. Just grit my teeth a little, then it passes—I let out a breath like letting go of a stone.