...Huh?!
Hitting Floor Seven, I froze. This place wasn’t just different; it felt cut from another sky. The first six were moods on a scroll—the Enchanted Forest like a misted fairyland, the Garden of Eternal Sleep cold as a lily-clad tomb. But here? Every direction was ink on ink, a world painted in pitch. It wasn’t night—my eyes sliced the dark like clear glass—yet all I saw was black upon black.
It felt like standing inside a sealed chamber lacquered in shadow. I shook my head and started walking, feet tapping a silent drum in a hollow hall. Soon, my fingers met a wall, smooth as sealed stone, stopping me dead. So Floor Seven really was a sealed space? A sigh slipped out, thin as smoke. The earlier floors were gorgeous; why did this one turn into a black box?
Around me, the elemental energy thinned to a pale wind. Compared to the first six, the gap was sky to abyss. My chest tightened; with air this lean, the odds drop hard. And stay long in a place like this, and the mind frays like silk. Picture it: no lamps, no shapes, only a locked sea of dark, nobody beside you. Minutes are fine; an hour or two gnaws the bones. At least it does for me.
What is Floor Seven, really? I chased thoughts like fireflies and caught none, so I waited for FrostyLily Dream to show.
“Don’t rush, kid, Yumigawa Sumeragi.”
Her voice bloomed in my head like a bell under water, making me jump.
“Lady FrostyLily Dream! What is Floor Seven? Why is there nothing here?”
I asked her in my mind at once; my heart needed an anchor.
“Hold your horses. First, the usual—congrats on clearing Floor Six.” Her tone was smoky, amused, a seasoned aunt with a sharp fan. “You did it on skill, not just your pretty face. Now, I’ll explain Floor Seven.”
She paused, then went on, words falling like cool rain. “Floor Seven is called the Visage of Truth, a special pocket inside the Nine Cold Labyrinth. Think of it as a chamber of the heart. To pass, you don’t beat a guardian or meet their terms. You just beat your own shadow.”
“Beat my own shadow?”
I’d read that setup somewhere in a novel. I blurted, “You mean… beat myself?”
“More or less. In five minutes, Floor Seven will copy a shadow—same looks, same strength, same moves. Beat it, and you pass.”
She clicked her tongue, as if remembering. “Oh right. A surprise waits for you on Floor Eight, kid. So hurry. Honestly, Floor Seven’s not hard. Don’t waste time here. Quick fight, quick end. That’s the tip. Good luck.”
Her presence faded like mist at sunrise, leaving the chamber quiet and clean. Fine. She’d said what mattered. Time to brace for what’s coming.
“Beat my own shadow, huh? Then I’ll open with everything I’ve got.”
I’d been in the Nine Cold Labyrinth for about a month. Xinuo hadn’t set a deadline to bring back the Ice Dream Lotus for Hill’s treatment, but I still wanted to finish fast. Wounds should be healed early; delay curdles hope.
To be honest, after all these battles, I was bone-weary. I wanted out—ten, twenty days of real rest would taste like spring. Hold on a little longer, I told myself; soon I’ll step back into a quieter life. The thought lit a fire in me. Once I leave the Nine Cold Labyrinth, I’m sleeping an entire day, no alarms. No—don’t daydream. Focus or you’ll drift in the next fight.
Five minutes slid by like a short breath. Then, not far ahead, power began to pool, swirling like a storm in a bottle. It gathered and shaped itself into a humanoid shell—
It looked exactly like me, frame and face, except the hair and eyes wore a darker shade. Wait—clothes. I wore men’s gear. The shadow wore a woman’s outfit. The skirt was short, and its legs were pale, long, and smooth as porcelain.
“So that’s me in women’s clothes, huh. No wonder Xinuo and the others keep trying to dress me up.”
I’d seen it in a mirror, sure, but never like this, walking in front of me. Staring at my shadow—in that outfit—I had to admit it: it was beautiful. Not on the level of Xinuo or FrostyLily Dream, but prettier than most, at least not weaker than Eastern Moon Aixue, Faya, even Paluna. Mm, though still a bit behind Qianji Sister and Serenemoon. Ugh, I’m a guy. Why am I comparing myself to women?
While I sized it up, the shadow struck without warning, a blade of Sword Aura slicing toward me with a cold whoosh. If I’d been slower, I’d be bleeding.
“Hey! A sneak attack? That’s dirty!”
I called the Shattered Light Sword into my hand, grip tightening like a clamp. The shadow didn’t speak; it cut again and again, Sword Aura piling into waves, stronger than before. Talking was useless—like playing a lute to a stone ox. I flashed aside, letting the blades hiss past, then hurled the Shattered Light Sword into the air.
“Sword Domain—open!”
Gold flooded the black like sunrise breaking a winter night. Swords of all shapes bloomed through the space, hanging like constellations. Blade-shaped currents of Sword Aura drifted everywhere, and the ground bristled with swords driven deep like gleaming reeds.
The shadow raised its hand, ready to mimic me, but I wouldn’t let it. I snatched two floating blades at my side—no time to recall the Shattered Light Sword—and charged the shadow, twin arcs flashing.
“Ultimate Sword—Peerless!”
Dozens—hundreds—of Sword Aura streams burst from the blades, a storm of needles rushing fast. Before the shadow could react, the dense rain was already in its face, forcing it to drop the Sword Domain and brace, blocking with everything it had.
While it blocked, the Shattered Light Sword spun back into my palm like a returning hawk. Good. Time to go all out. In a one-on-one where our strength matches perfectly, a quick kill is the cleanest path.
