Meanwhile, on the ninth floor of the Nine Cold Labyrinth, a Palace of Ice Crystal glittered like frozen rivers. In its grand hall, FrostyLily Dream chatted with a blonde girl.

“Ah, looks like Yumigawa Sumeragi, that brat, cleared the eighth floor.” She lounged on a soft sofa, steam curling from black tea like winter breath, and spoke at ease.

“Yeah. She said she wouldn’t go easy, but Lady Lorin didn’t show her true strength.” The girl shook her head lightly, like a willow touching breeze. It surprised her; the one who lives by going all out had used only half her power, like a sheathed blade.

“Of course. If Lorin went all out, that kid would have no stage to sing on.” FrostyLily Dream’s smile slid lazy, like sun on snow. “Besides, Lorin prizes fairness—she matches the other’s level, like scales set even. This time, the kid’s success carried a lot of luck, a tailwind under a cold sky.” She popped a pastry like a snowflake, yawned like a sun-lazy cat, and let indolence paint her face.

“True. Lady Lorin is strict and fair.” The girl’s eyes tightened like drawn strings. “So what’s Yumigawa Sumeragi’s full strength?”

“Sumeragi’s full strength?” FrostyLily Dream chewed and mused, thoughts drifting like frost over glass. “At most the peak of half-step Divine Realm. If he sparks even a sliver of Shattered Light, he’ll hit harder, like lightning under glass. Overall, you’re about the same—go all out, no reserve, like a bow pulled to the limit. Fighting a real Sword Wielder is a once-in-a-millennium chance.”

“Rest assured, teacher, I will.” Her voice rang firm, like steel on stone.

“Good. Go prepare; their footsteps already rustle like frost.”

“Understood. I’ll take my leave.” She bowed like a swan dipping to water and slipped out. She returned to her room to prepare, buckles clicking like beads.

“Which is stronger—the Sword Wielder trained by Sister Xinuo, or the one trained by me? I’m a little excited.” Watching her student’s fading silhouette, FrostyLily Dream’s lazy mask melted; her eyes lit like stars on ice.

At their level, few things still draw them; the sharpest joy is tempering disciples, smiths thrilled by a perfect blade. A peerless powerhouse forged by your own hands brings a summit-high sense of achievement.

Take Yugou Sage a millennium ago: Xinuo, bored, taught him bits and pieces like tossing seeds. She didn’t pour in much effort, yet he became a peerless force, crushing races and factions like storms flatten forests. In the end, he even claimed the Central Continent, staking a banner on a white plain. From idle whim to such an ending, how could you not feel pride, warmth after a long winter?

Elsewhere, in a room plain yet elegant, the girl switched into battle gear and buckled her weapons, metal glinting like hoarfrost. “Yumigawa Sumeragi… just thinking of you stirs me like a rising storm. You and I are both Sword Wielders; your teacher is Sir Xino, admired even by mine—what surprises will you bring me?” She looked out at an icebound world; snow stitched the air like white silk.

“So this is the ninth floor…” I stepped out of the spatial passage into an ice-blue emptiness spread like a frozen sea. Sky and ground wore the same cold hue, two mirrors facing.

Not far ahead stood a palace, built entirely of ice crystal, gleaming like a carved jewel. Exquisite as art, though its color felt single, like a monk’s robe. My first impression was an ice-blue world, stripped simple compared to earlier floors, a little too monotone for me.

“Whoa—the palace is so pretty! And not small.” Lingsaki’s voice fluttered like sparrows.

“Same here. Under weak sunlight it shimmers, and its lines are delicate; more color would make it sing.” Lingxiao’s gaze shone like a lake at dawn.

I should say, Lingsaki and Lingxiao are true girls; they lit up at the sight like sparrows at grain.

Cough, cough. I hated to cut their mood, but business comes first. “Let’s head over and check; the ninth floor’s guardian might be inside, a shadow behind glass.”

“True, dear big brother, no time like now—let’s go.” Lingsaki’s smile hopped like a firefly.

“The guardian… I’m suddenly a bit tense, like a drum under my ribs,” Lingxiao murmured.

We took off together, our steps biting the snow like small teeth, toward the Palace of Ice Crystal. As we walked, nerves nipped at me like cold needles, yet a small thrill burned like hidden embers.

Minutes later, we passed the outer gate and entered the courtyard, wide as a frozen lake. I swept it fast; no one. I weighed going inside when a voice chimed behind me like wind over ice.

“Yumigawa Sumeragi, kid, you finally made it. This lady’s waited quite a while. Still, you’re earlier than I budgeted.”

I flinched; my heart jumped like a startled bird. “Eek—FrostyLily Dream, please stop being so ghostly. My heart can’t take it.” I turned to see her in an ice-blue courtesan kimono that shimmered like frost and gave a helpless, wry complaint.

“That attitude, kid—believe it or not, I can show you something sharp.” Her side-eye sliced like a thin blade.

Then a crushing pressure fell on me like a glacier; there was no resisting it. Thankfully it lasted only a breath; any longer and I’d have face-planted before my sisters.

“I’m terribly sorry!” I wiped cold sweat like meltwater and apologized fast. Terrifying—her strength may or may not match Xinuo’s, but it’s clearly in that tier, peaks facing peaks.

“By the way, the ninth floor’s guardian isn’t you, is it?” Only FrostyLily Dream stood here; a bad hunch gnawed at me like frostbite.

“No way. I’m not bored enough to bully kids.” She shook her head, the motion soft as an icy willow. “By custom, I’ll introduce this floor. This last layer of the Nine Cold Labyrinth is the Palace of Ice Crystal, and the main stage is this palace. As for the guardian—”

She paused, the word hanging like a snowflake, then called past us, voice clear as a bell, “Alright, Lixue, come over.”