Since we left the Nine Cold Labyrinth, two days had slipped by like snow on a warm sleeve.

In those two days we drifted without aim, like leaves skimming a frozen stream.

At first the Northern Abyss Continent felt new and bright, a glassy panorama under a cold sun.

After a while, boredom settled like hoarfrost; no matter how far we walked, it was glaciers and jagged white peaks.

Along the way we ran into humans more than once, silhouettes like crows against the snow.

We meant to ask directions, but their eyes crawled like oil; when they slunk close, Lixue froze them into crystal statues.

Later I learned what happened to Lingxiao and Lingsaki when they first reached this land; their stories echoed like wind through ice.

I was honestly speechless at those men—were their brains steamed by lust like dumplings in a hot basket?

Boredom gnawed first, then annoyance; keeping this up felt pointless and slow, like trudging in knee-deep drift.

I wished for a mount or some transport, a swift shadow across the white.

Wait—a mount? The thought flared like a spark in dry pine.

“Lingxiao, Lingsaki, I want to ask you a favor,” I said, my hands held by their warm, mitten-soft grip.

“Dear big brother, don’t say ‘please’—just tell us,” one chimed, bright as bells.

“Right, whatever you say, we’ll do,” the other echoed, firm as frost.

They clearly disliked the word; between family, formality feels like ice between fingers.

“Sorry, I’ll watch it. Do you have a spell to make or summon a mount?” I asked, hope rising like dawn.

“Sumeragi’s right; we need a mount,” Lixue said, regret clouding her face like mist.

“Why didn’t I think of it before we left the Nine Cold Labyrinth?” Her sigh drifted like snow.

“Oh! A mount is a must. Let me check...” Lingxiao flipped the Rule Book; pages fluttered like wings.

“Hmm, crafting one needs too many materials; such a hassle,” Lingsaki frowned, ink-black brows like strokes.

They buried themselves in the Rule Book, hunting a spell like foxes in fresh powder.

“Got it! A summoning spell,” one cried, voice sharp as a chime.

“No prep needed; as long as a creature’s nearby, we can pull it in. Let’s try,” the other said, eyes bright as stars.

They began the casting, symbols flowing like river-light across the snow.

“What will show up? Hopefully not something too scrawny,” I said, half-smiling like a crescent moon.

“Agreed,” Lixue nodded, her breath a silver thread in the cold.

Half a minute passed; then a roar cracked the air like thunder over ice.

Blue radiance bloomed; within the ground sigil rose a massive ice dragon, regal as a mountain.

It looked a bit bigger than Hill; with my Sword Intent, I tasted a Divine Novice’s edge in its aura.

“Good-looking,” I grinned. “You’ll be our mount.” My words fell like stamps in wax.

“Yes, be our mount,” the sisters added, closing the Rule Book with a neat snap, like a folding fan.

The dragon snorted, contempt cold as sleet. “You little brats think I’ll be your mount? Know your sky and earth!”

Dragon Aura exploded off its bulk like a storm; nearby icebergs cracked and tumbled, white towers collapsing in waves.

“Lingxiao, Lingsaki, you can’t ask favors with that tone,” I murmured, soothing their bristling tempers like smoothing fur.

I stepped forward and spoke to the dragon, calm as a still lake.

“I’m Yumigawa Sumeragi. They summoned you—my sisters, Lingxiao and Lingsaki. This is my friend, Tianyu Lixue. Could you carry us?”

“Yumigawa Sumeragi... Yumigawa... could it be?!” Recognition flashed like lightning across its eyes.

The Dragon Aura vanished; it bowed its proud head low as a willow, apology pouring like rain.

“I failed to recognize the mountain before me—so sorry!” it blurted, voice hitting the snow like drums.

“Not just one trip; I’d gladly carry you for life. Please forgive my rudeness!”

“Huh, the Mizumi Clan’s name opens doors like a master key,” Lixue said, rueful as the last leaf.

“Yeah. Back on the Eastern Moon Continent, saying my name solved almost everything,” I said, nostalgia rising like warm steam.

“That’s more like it. I’ll forgive you, dumb dragon,” Lingxiao huffed, stroking its lowered head like polished stone.

“Mm, and behave from now on,” Lingsaki added, palm gentle as snow on pine.

“Of course! I—Lanxia Kolor—swear to the Dragon God never to be rude to you again,” the dragon vowed, voice steady as iron.

The gravity in her tone made me a bit sheepish, like standing under a temple bell. “No need to be that serious. Please take care of us, Lanxia.”

“Y-yes, Lord Yumigawa Sumeragi!” she chirped, tail-thoughts swirling like smoke.

(Heh, what luck—meeting folks from the Mizumi Clan. Let’s see who dares look down on me now.) Her mutter was a buzz like bees; I let it go.

“Lanxia... so you’re a female dragon?” Lixue asked, eyes tracing her lines like ink on silk.

“Yes! I’m three hundred this year, in my maiden spring, and currently single!” Lanxia stared at me, gaze hot as coals.

That burning look gave me a chill, like standing in sun on fresh ice.

“Hey! Dumb dragon, stop batting your eyes at our dear big brother,” Lingxiao snapped, jealousy bright as a ribbon.

“Can you take human form?” Lingsaki asked, curiosity blooming like a blue flower.

“Of course—please watch,” Lanxia said, pride ringing like metal.

Blue light flared again; her massive shape shrank like a tide retreating.

When the glow ebbed, a blue-haired girl of fourteen or fifteen stood there, fresh as morning.

Her pale-blue hair fell long in twin ponytails, each capped with petal-shaped ornaments like frost flowers.

Deep-blue eyes sparkled with energy, and a sweet smile warmed her small face like dawn.

She wore an ornate dress, a touch revealing, yet on her it fit like a festival lantern on a clear night.

Overall, she was a beauty brimming with youth, like a spring brook in sunlight.

“So young—I expected a big-sister look,” Lingsaki murmured, disappointment soft as ash.

Big-sister look? I wondered what tangled expectations she’d packed, like threads in a drawer.

“Her human age matches ours—how boring,” Lingxiao sighed, mood flat as a frozen lake.

What were these sisters even hoping for? The thought fluttered like a confused moth.

“Pretty cute,” Lixue said, simple as clear water.

I felt the same, a quiet accord like two strings in tune.

“Then, once more—please take care of us,” I said, offering my hand like a bridge.

“Oh my, it’s I, Lanxia, who should say that,” she replied, clasping my hand, smile bright as a sunlit wave.

And just like that, Lanxia joined our team as a mount—question mark and all—like a new star beside our trail.

The white world stretched ahead, and our steps felt lighter, like footprints filling with light.