“So strong—like a storm tearing the sky! What power are Sir Xino and her side using? It feels unlike laws or rules. Yumigawa Senki, do you know?”

The clash between Xinuo and FrostyLily Dream stunned the watchers, the shock settling like frost that wouldn’t melt.

When the Primordial Source showed itself mid‑battle, minds stalled like gears frozen in ice, so Elyar turned to Yumigawa Senki without thinking.

Among them, Senki carried the most knowledge, like a lantern held against a winter night.

“Mm, that should be the Primordial Source,” Yumigawa Senki murmured, doubt drifting like mist around her words.

She knew of it because years ago, in the Mizumi Clan’s vault of books, she found an ancient text that sketched the Primordial Source like a charcoal outline of a mountain.

“Primordial Source? What is that?”

“I’ve never heard of it. What is it, Qianji Sister?”

“Primordial Source? I thought the peak in this world was Rules.”

“Miss Qianji, could you explain?”

Their eyes gathered on Senki like starlight pooling on a lake; to them, the Primordial Source was a foreign constellation.

“To be honest, I don’t know much,” she said, voice steady as a quiet stream. “I once read a book that gave a rough outline.”

“Simply put, the Primordial Source is the root by which the world took shape, the seed under the soil.

Rules and Laws appeared after the world formed, like branches and leaves sprouting later.

So the Primordial Source stands above every power, far beyond Rules, and Laws don’t even compare.”

“So Sir Xino and the one called FrostyLily Dream have grasped the Primordial Source?”

Her brief words still landed like thunder; for the first time, they saw that above Rules sat an unseen peak, and their worldview shook like a tree in wind.

“I’m not completely sure,” Senki said, calm like falling snow. “But Xinuo Miss and that being named FrostyLily Dream can use the Primordial Source—of that I’m certain.”

Then her tone turned, sharp as a bell. “By the way, do you know why our ancestor could defeat every unrivaled foe?

He could one‑strike the strongest of the four great races—gods, demons, dragons, and elves.”

“That part, I don’t really know.”

“Qianji Sister, don’t keep us hanging—tell us!”

“Yeah, I want to know too!”

“Could the strongest human in history—Senior Yugou Sage—do it because he could use the Primordial Source?!”

“Eh, really?!”

Eastern Moon Aixue’s guess set the crowd to bubbling again, like water dancing over hot stones; no wonder Senki raised this as they spoke of the Primordial Source.

“Half right.”

Seeing the answer nearly unmasked, Yumigawa Senki stopped teasing and spoke plainly. “Our ancestor, by chance and sudden insight, brushed a sliver of the Primordial Source.

Even just that sliver burst his strength like dawn breaking a long night, pushing him far beyond the top beings of the four races who had been his equals.

For the record, those four strongest had already mastered Rules; apart from the Primordial Source, they were indeed the highest peak of this world.”

“He only touched a sliver?” Yumigawa Nozomi’s disbelief flared like a spark in dry grass.

“I’m sure,” Senki replied, firm as stone. “Everything I said came from his cultivation notes.

Sadly, he stayed at ‘brushing the surface’ until he died; it was the greatest regret of his life, carved in his words like a seal.”

“So the gap between Primordial Source and Rules is that huge… but why didn’t news of it spread?

If no one could reach it, fine. But Sir Xino and FrostyLily Dream clearly have, and Senior Yugou Sage touched its edge a thousand years ago.

Why wasn’t it made public?”

Elyar’s doubt rippled like wind on rice fields; if a summit existed above Rules, it should’ve crowned the training path for all.

“Ooh! I once asked Father what realm lay above his, and he hemmed and hawed and brushed me off. Thinking back, that feels so off!”

Hill nodded in deep agreement, chin dipping like a reed; it’s one thing for common folk not to know, but her father knew and refused to say—even to his daughter.

“As for the Primordial Source, I think the top beings of the four races know something,” Eastern Moon Aixue said, then sighed. “But for some reason, none have made it public.”

She tried to reason it out, thoughts looping like a kite in fickle wind, then gave up with a helpless shrug.

“Hey, don’t overthink it! We’ll ask after Sister Xinuo and the others finish.”

Yumigawa Nozomi cut to the heart like a clean blade: if it’s unclear, stop fretting; ask the ones who know later.

“You’re right. My Littlesky is the sharp one.” Yumigawa Senki smiled and patted Yumigawa Nozomi’s cute head, soft as a cat’s fur.

“Yeah! Master will definitely know the Primordial Source inside out!”

“Then we’ll ask Sir Xino when the fight’s done.”

“Speaking of fighting, Xinuo Miss and the others look ready to continue!”

“They really do… Let’s watch closely. A battle at this level is a once‑in‑a‑millennium snowfall.”

When Xinuo and FrostyLily Dream stirred again, chatter died like embers under ash, and all eyes fixed on the Ice Prison.

Perhaps FrostyLily made it transparent on purpose, so they could witness the storm inside through winter glass.

…

“Still want to keep going?”

I asked when FrostyLily Dream held her silence, my calm like a lake before wind.

“Of course,” FrostyLily answered, crisp as cracking ice. “I haven’t lost. No reason to quit. Let’s begin.”

She moved first. The prison plunged into darkness, night sweeping in like a curtain, and several ice‑blue sword gleams flashed past me.

“Dance of the Sword.”

I drew on a vast swell of Sword Aura and swung, letting the aura sweep wide like a whirling blizzard.

It blocked her gleams and tangled her footwork like vines around ankles, forcing her to show herself and rise back into the air.

“Drop the sneaky, hide‑and‑seek style. It’s annoying.”

I said it and sent a few slashes of Sword Aura, arcs bright as crescent moons.

“…Got it. Fighting like before was pointless anyway.”

She brushed aside the incoming aura with a casual flick, like knocking snow off a sleeve, then the ice‑aspect Primordial Source surged to her side.

It gathered, condensing into a longsword, simple yet beautiful like a clear icicle carved by winter.

“As Sister wishes, I won’t play at ambushes anymore.”

FrostyLily Dream descended and gripped the Primordial Source sword, her gaze steady as midwinter sky.

“Good. I’m looking forward to it.”

I answered, feeling the air sharpen like the moment before snowfall.