It was still that same grim room, the walls breathing cold like a cave; Sakurazuki frowned, her eyes like half-closed blades, lost in thought.
Hm, his strength sits at the half-step peak of the Divine Realm, like a mountain half-hidden in mist.
He might still be hiding a blade in the shadows, a depth like dark water.
So, assume him at least Divine Realm, a star already burning bright.
It’s shocking—only sixteen or seventeen, yet bearing Divine Realm power, a spring blade that cuts the sky.
Are all prodigies of the Mizumi Clan this heaven-defying?
She tilted her head, then kicked open the coffin, foot cracking wood like ice.
“Don’t sleep. Up.”
“Mas…ter… what… do… you… need…?”
The corpse was a woman, skin pale as paper, bloodless as winter light; only her eyes and lips bled red like fresh lacquer.
Her voice scraped like a centuries-rusted engine grinding awake.
“Guanling, go play with him.”
Sakurazuki pointed at the image in the crystal orb, glass clouded like rain.
“Such… a… cu…te… child…”
She clawed her way out, movements stiff as a puppet; eyes glazed like wine as she stared at Yumigawa Sumeragi.
She vanished at once, like a moth swallowed by shadow.
“May that child keep you entertained…”
Sakurazuki leaned on the window, gaze on a hazy moon veiled in dim cloud, words soft as mist.
…
After shattering that ancient well, I ran like a startled deer, afraid more rotten things would crawl out of the earth.
Sob, it’s so scary. The Garden of Eternal Sleep is a nightmare, a graveyard wind.
I trembled like leaves in cold rain; in this state, seeking the floor’s warden is walking into a tiger’s mouth.
But I’m done wandering. I’ll head straight for that decayed manor like an arrow loosed.
My right hand clenched the Shattered Light Sword, palm slick like rain on stone.
I carved the path with Sword Aura, a clean wind cutting the brush, and hurried toward the ruined house.
After five or six minutes, I reached the door, wood rotting like driftwood; the stink of mold and worm husks bit like sour smoke.
I pinched my nose, grimaced, and muttered, “Don’t overthink. Go first, talk later.”
I kicked the door—too filthy to touch by hand—and stepped in like diving into a night river.
Creak—screech—
Just as I expected, the door collapsed halfway open, brittle as old bones.
Inside, there was light—chandeliers on walls and ceiling, flickering like tired fireflies.
The atmosphere pressed heavy, a wet cloth on the face.
I forced a dry laugh, sand in the throat, and walked in, pretending calm.
Yellowed walls held blood-toned paintings, shapes pulsing like bruises under dim light; they nearly scared me out of my skin.
Stairs rose on both sides.
The left was so moldy it looked ready to fold like a rotten reed.
The right felt better, yet carried a snake-in-the-grass vibe, a trap waiting with cold patience.
Which way?
After a few seconds, I chose—right.
The left couldn’t hold weight and might collapse into a pit, like those horror setups I’ve read a hundred times.
So I took the path that looked more dangerous, like walking into a wolf’s jaw.
Tap, tap, tap—
I climbed, eyes scanning like cold blades.
From outside, this ruin looked four floors tall, a stack of shadowed tombs.
I had no clue where Sakurazuki was, so I’d search floor by floor, a lantern moving through fog.
!!!
Near the second floor, something clamped my right ankle, cold as an iron hook.
I lurched, caught the rail like a lifeline, and stared down.
Corpses—no, zombies.
Bodies rotted into strings of guts, intestines spilling like ropes; faces stripped to bone, eyeballs cracked like marbles.
At some point, the first floor had filled like an ant nest.
They were swarming up the stairs, and one had seized my foot.
…
When fear swells past a threshold, feeling turns numb, frost sealing a lake.
I cut the hand free fast as lightning, then gathered Sword Aura like a storm.
I dipped into a crouch and set the Shattered Light Sword along my waist, a crescent at the ready.
“Disappear. Now!”
A crescent of Sword Aura flew out like a breaking wave; in a blink that dense horde became powder, ash on the air.
Good. Keep moving, reed bending to wind.
Don’t dwell; hold a steady heart.
If I fixate, I’ll crack—body and spirit both—porcelain in a kiln.
Ten-plus minutes to clear the second floor.
Sakurazuki wasn’t here, and I’d almost adapted to it—to ugly terror, thorns in the dark.
I’m still scared, but I don’t shake.
See one, erase one.
No big deal—just stomping spiders.
“Check the third floor…?!”
A jolt of danger flooded me like ice water, head to heel.
Instinct took the reins; I spun and swung with all I had.
Clang!!
My blade met something hard, stone to steel.
The rebound shoved me back a few steps, a punch of iron.
What was that?!
I lowered my right hand and finally saw my attacker.
A female corpse, unlike the zombies.
Her body was intact, no rot, skin moon-pale and bloodless.
Her eyes and lips shone red like wet lacquer.
Her nails were blood-red, long, razor-sharp, talons carved for killing.
Letters were scrawled near her chest—Guanling, a grave-script name.
“Cu…te… child… eat…”
She unfurled a scarlet tongue like a serpent; chunks of viscera and tiny worms clung like beads.
Guanling sprang like a wild beast, claws outstretched, lunging for my throat.
“Keep away! Sword Qi Storm!!”
I gathered Sword Aura, spun, and loosed a tornado of blades, a typhoon of cutting wind.
Yet—
Kra-kra—
Her claws shredded something with a needling scream, a sound like wires sawing bone.
Tinnitus flared; I clamped my ears like a frightened child.
What was happening?!
“Hss!”
I looked up and gulped cold air.
Guanling was tearing the tornado apart with her claws, ripping wind like cloth.
Her eyes burned blood-red, embers in a skull.
Filthy drool dripped from her tongue, each drop hissing into the floor, leaving neat little holes—acid rain gnawing stone.
“Eat…”
She breached the storm with ease and flashed before me, danger spiking like thunder.
“Bad! Sword Domain!!”
I rolled like a tumbleweed, barely slipping past her strike.
I didn’t dare hesitate.
I flung the Shattered Light Sword into the air, a shooting star arcing above.
