In the deep-blue vault of the sky, we rode Lanxia’s broad back, carving through the wind like a blade.
“Whoa, we’re fast! A mount makes life easy, like wind under wings.”
“Same—no more wandering like driftwood on a barren road.”
Lingxiao and Lingsaki flanked me, faces lit with excitement, eyes chasing clouds that flashed by like shredded silk.
As for Lixue…
“Mmm—”
She’d dozed against me minutes ago, breath warm as spring mist; fear of waking her kept me statue-still. A sleeping beauty in my arms, like moonlight in a cup—no complaints.
“This is my first time carrying people,” Lanxia chimed, wings drumming the air like festival taiko. “Comfy, right?”
She flapped harder, tail slicing the wind like a pennant.
“Very comfy. By the way, Lanxia, where are you taking us?” Curiosity pawed at me like a cat in tall grass.
“Today’s my first time leaving the Dragon Realm,” Lanxia said, voice bright as sun on water. “I’m not familiar with the Northern Abyss Continent. I’m just flying wherever. Yumigawa Sumeragi, got a destination? Tell me, and I’ll get you there at top speed.”
“Eh? You don’t know the Northern Abyss Continent either? We’re blind birds in fog here.”
“What do we do? We don’t even have a map, like ships without stars.”
“Dear big brother, got any bright ideas?” Their eyes glittered like river stones.
“First, we need a detailed map of the Northern Abyss Continent, or we’ll stay stuck in mist,” I said after a beat. “Lanxia, look for a place where people gather, a city like a cluster of lanterns.”
“Got it! Finding crowds is easy—like spotting flocks from the sky!”
…
Meanwhile, in the God King’s Palace within the Divine Realm, torchlight burned like frozen stars. The Dark Demon guildmaster, Rangetsu, strode in swift and tense, anxiety pounding like a drum.
“God King, you’re saying you won’t support Dark Demon anymore? What’s going on?” His voice cut through the hall like a hawk’s cry.
Since the assault on Egisia Academy, the God King—Naretia—had gone silent, a winter stone of no reply. Only recently came a message, cold as a knife: the Divine Realm would end all ties with Dark Demon. Rangetsu couldn’t sit still; he rushed in like a storm across a plain.
“Nothing big. I’ve backed your Dark Demon for ages with no gains, maybe losses,” Naretia said, fatigue clinging like dusk. “Find someone else.”
“No way! God King, you’re joking, right?” Disbelief flickered like a candle in wind.
He knew this wasn’t just profit; after centuries of backing, a sudden break meant a deeper reef under the waves.
“You’ve got the nerve to ask?!” Naretia snapped, patience snapping like a bowstring. He surged up from the throne and hurled a bolt of light.
Wham!
Rangetsu slammed into marble, blood spraying like crimson rain; the wounds weren’t light.
“God King… why?” He dragged himself up, wiped his mouth, and faced Naretia, whose anger burned like a prairie fire.
“During the Egisia attack, your Dark Demon hurt a member of the Dragon Kin. You know that, right?” Naretia forced his wrath into words like steel forced into a sheath.
“I… know.” Confusion hung on Rangetsu like fog.
“Good. Then hear this—the one you injured was the Dragon God’s precious daughter!”
“What?!”
No wonder every Dark Demon sub-branch in the Dragon Realm was erased in a single day; they’d touched the Dragon God’s inverse scale—the taboo you never touch. Cold sweat slid down his back like melting ice. They were catching the splash of wrath, and Naretia was drenched by it.
“Seems your pig-brain finally woke up,” Naretia snarled, voice like sleet. “The Dragon God used to turn a blind eye to your games, as long as you didn’t provoke the Dragon Kin. But you went and hurt his daughter. That’s a straight declaration of war. Thanks to you, a crack opened between the God Race and the Dragon Kin, like ice splitting on a lake!”
He threw another bolt.
Bang!
Rangetsu spat blood again, pain blooming through him like fire.
“Listen close! The Dragon God even said if the God Race keeps mingling with Dark Demon, he’ll come himself to demand an answer. Worse—you didn’t just provoke the Dragon Kin. You displeased Sir Xino. I was warned by Sir Xino to behave, or the God King gets replaced.”
Naretia’s gaze dropped like a blade, cold and clean. “Now do you get why I’m desperate to sever ties? I can barely protect myself.”
“You—You said Sir Xino feels displeased with Dark Demon?!” Rangetsu’s face went pale, color fleeing like twilight.
After years dealing with Naretia, he’d learned shards of the world’s secret history—Xinuo’s shadow among them. You could offend anyone, but not Xinuo; run to the ends of the earth, and death still waited like a silent tide. If he was still breathing now, it was only because Xinuo found ants beneath notice.
“Of course,” Naretia said, voice low as distant thunder. “Do you know why Sir Xino first backed the Yugou Sage, and later the Mizumi Clan?”
“I… don’t,” Rangetsu stammered, fear fluttering like a trapped bird.
“Simple. Sir Xino hates a world ablaze with war. So he raised the Mizumi Clan to press down every faction, steady the order, and forge a long peace—rain quenching flame.”
Years of study had finally brought Naretia close to the truth in recent days. In plain words, the Mizumi Clan was a tool Xinuo set to guard the world’s peace, a warding stone at a river’s bend.
He couldn’t swear it was perfect, but he felt it missed by only a hair, like an arrow a finger off its mark.
“As you can see, once the Mizumi Clan appeared, wars dropped hard, like leaves after frost. Call it a golden peace, and you’d be right. But your Dark Demon aimed to topple the Mizumi Clan, to drown the world in chaos again. That defies Sir Xino’s will. I backed you at first out of boredom, a whim in idle weather, but now…”
Xinuo and the Mizumi Clan had lain quiet for centuries, their names fading like old ink. A little over a month ago, Naretia wasn’t just warned by Sir Xino—he was punished. The despair was iron in the mouth, pain that scraped the soul raw. He woke hard: if he wanted to keep his life and the God King’s seat, he must never displease Xinuo again—at least not in this world.
