She must’ve realized taking on all four of us would be a losing tide, so Lixin cut loose like a knife from its sheath and fled, abandoning the Dark Demon and the Tiger and Wolf tribes.

“Dear big brother, are you okay?!” Lingxiao’s voice trembled like a plucked string, her pale hands fluttering over me like worried butterflies.

“Mm. Good thing you got here in time.” Relief washed through me like cool rain. I swallowed a Holy Healing Fruit like a glowing ember, and warmth surged; stroking Lingxiao’s hair like soft silk, I smiled. “Thanks to the Holy Healing Fruit you gave me before, I held out and came out whole.”

“It’s the best, being able to help dear big brother!” Joy bloomed on her face like sunrise over snow, and Lingxiao dove into my arms like a small, warm fox.

“Lingxiao, you’re sneaky. I want a hug too.” Lingsaki’s words rang like a bell, and she followed with a pounce, wrapping me up like ivy on a tree. Peace, at last, like a quiet pond after storm.

“Emperor, are you truly unharmed?” Lixue’s eyes were cold and clear as winter stars. Once she confirmed Lixin had gone far, she released Heavenly Snow Dance Burial like melting frost, then took out an elixir and downed it like liquid light.

“Everything’s fine, aside from my clothes being a little shredded like wind-torn flags.”

If I’m honest, one of the biggest reasons we won such a lopsided fight today was Lingxiao’s stash of Supreme Divine Spirit Medicine, a hidden river we drank from without fear. Thanks to that flood of strength, we fought without counting the cost, like blades that never dull.

Only after today did I truly grasp how vital elixirs are, a truth like a mountain finally seen when fog lifts. Back home I used them like ordinary ingredients, tossing pearls to the pot; what a waste. If I’d known, I would’ve brought some when I left… but I left with Xinuo, heart light as a crane, never imagining I’d need medicine, because I thought I could lean on her like a towering pine no wind can shake.

“Hmm? What’re you thinking, big brother? You look spaced out, like your spirit drifted with the clouds. Are you feeling unwell?” Lingxiao’s worry gathered like dew.

“It’s nothing. Just thinking I should’ve brought some elixirs when I set out.” My laugh came out thin as paper.

“Don’t worry about elixirs, dear big brother!” Lingsaki’s grin was bright as lantern-light. “We’ve still got loads in our packs, like a granary after harvest. Besides what we stuffed in, Serenemoon put in half again.”

“So reliable.” I ruffled their hair like petting soft fox tails, then looked around. The forest lay flattened like a field after a typhoon; the Foxfolk settlement was gone like sand swept by a tide. Thank the heavens Lanxia escorted the Foxfolk away this morning like a shepherd leading a flock, or the consequences would’ve been unthinkable, a night with no stars.

The Sword Aura rounds we prepped before the battle ended up forgotten, like arrows left in the quiver, and the magic barrier had already unraveled into nothing under the fight’s aftershocks, like mist under noon sun.

All that remained of the Foxfolk village was a great pit, a crater like a dead moon. So much for a bath and a good rest, both dreams slipping like water through fingers. I wondered how Lanxia was doing, my worry circling like a hawk; may nothing go wrong.

“What do we do with the Dark Demon and the Tiger and Wolf tribes?” Lixue asked, her tone level as a drawn blade.

“Leave them,” I said, my patience thin as ice. “We’ve got enough trouble piling like snowdrifts.”

“True. Then what next? Do we just wait for Lanxia to come back?” Her gaze held steady, like a lighthouse in fog.

“Uh…” My mind went blank like a wiped slate. With Lanxia and Nalu away, we’d just be back to wandering the road like drifting leaves. We had a map, but the Northern Abyss Continent was still a stranger, a coastline drawn but not walked.

“Lingxiao, Lingsaki, can you use magic to make a space we can rest in?” A thought flickered like a lamp; with magic this convenient, almost like a key to any door, maybe the sisters had a way.

“Life-type magic like that… I’ll look.” Lingxiao flipped pages like turning wind.

“I’m sure I saw something like it…” Lingsaki’s fingers danced across the Dual Daynight Tomes like swallows skimming water.

A few minutes drifted by like falling leaves.

“Found it! There really is a spell like this, but I can only cast it when I’m with Lingsaki,” Lingxiao said, eyes bright as stars.

“Right. It’s a spell that needs the Dual Daynight Tomes together,” Lingsaki echoed, her smile curved like a crescent moon.

“That’s great. Let’s rest first, then wait for Lanxia and Nalu to return,” I said, fatigue rolling in like a soft tide. Supreme Divine Spirit Medicine worked wonders, but chugging so many mid-battle left a faint side effect, a dizziness like heat haze. I needed real rest.

“Okay. Lingsaki, ready?” Lingxiao’s voice steadied like a staff planted in earth.

“Mm.” Lingsaki nodded, focus sharpening like a whetstone’s kiss.

“Then—”

“Summoning-type Space Magic: Leisurely Dominion!”

…

Meanwhile, in Cerol City, capital of the Basiloth Empire.

In the palace hall, Wilsar was discussing something with Rangetsu and Nakat when Lixin appeared, her clothes in tatters like torn banners, her aura ragged as a storm-broken tree.

“Lixin, what happened to you?” Nakat hurried over like a hound to its handler. “Weren’t you going with the Dark Demon to persuade the Tiger and Wolf tribes to join us?”

“I actually wanted to test the Mizumi Clan’s strength…” Lixin let out a bitter laugh like cold wind, then sketched the whole story, start to finish, like ink strokes on silk.

“Lixin, I told you to shadow the Mizumi Clan and report their every move,” Wilsar said, his voice falling like frost. “Why act on your own? Now the Tiger and Wolf tribes are wiped out, and we’ve lost a chunk of power like a limb severed.”

He snorted, and a terrifying pressure burst from him like a thunderclap. The floor and walls cracked like dry earth, and Lixin coughed blood, her face going pale as paper, injury upon injury like weights stacked on a reed.

“Please, don’t be too angry, Wilsar,” Rangetsu smoothed the air like a hand over ripples, then eyed Lixin with a thoughtful glint. “You’re Overdeity Level, Lixin. How did a few brats from the Mizumi Clan beat you? Counting our Dark Demon plus the Tiger and Wolf tribes, you had over ten Divine Realm fighters, a lineup like a forest of spears. No matter how I see it, you had the advantage.”

“The Mizumi situation is far more complicated than we thought.” Propped by Nakat, Lixin straightened like a bent reed finding spine, and bowed her head to Wilsar like a penitent before an altar. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to act rashly, but I couldn’t resist testing their strength, like a moth to flame.”

“So? How did you lose?” Wilsar’s tone eased a notch, like a blade sheathed a finger’s width.

“We lost on resources,” Lixin said, sharp and clean as a needle.

“What resources?” Wilsar frowned, a shadow crossing his face like a cloud over sun.

“It’s me—no, it’s us underestimating the Mizumi Clan,” Lixin said, the words heavy as stones. “They carry loads of Supreme Divine Spirit Medicine, and they pop them like common potions. When they burn out, they eat one. Over and over, like a drumbeat. We lost in the war of attrition, drowning like swimmers against a tide.”

“The Mizumi Clan monopolizes the resource-rich Central Continent,” Rangetsu said, jealousy souring his voice like vinegar. “Of course they carry Supreme Divine Spirit Medicine. And in attrition, no force can beat them; you’re not facing a single clan, you’re facing the Central Continent itself, a mountain of grain against a hungry village.”

“Exactly. I don’t fear a strong enemy as much as I fear one with endless supplies, a well that never runs dry,” Wilsar nodded, the motion slow as a pendulum. “So against the Mizumi Clan, we must move like winter—slow, careful, and planned.” He paused, eyes narrowing like a hawk’s. “Still, how did you lose personally? If I recall, their people are at most God-level, while you’re Overdeity Level. There shouldn’t be any gap there.”

“The problem wasn’t just resources. It was equipment,” Lixin said, her bitter smile deepening like a cut. “The two sisters from the Mizumi Clan wield Rule Books, the Dual Daynight Tomes, artifacts that rival a Semi Origin Artifact. That boy, Yumigawa Sumeragi, holds a real Origin Artifact. As for the other Sword Wielder girl, I left too fast to see clearly, but her weapon’s grade is likely similar, at least stronger than my staff by a head.”

Silence fell like snow, thick and smothering. No one spoke; even breaths seemed to soften like muffled drums.

After a long moment, Wilsar sighed, the sound long as a winter wind. “That Origin Artifact in Yumigawa Sumeragi’s hand was no doubt given by the Origin Realm backer standing behind the Mizumi Clan, Xinuo. Reaching for it would be suicide, like snatching food from a dragon’s jaws. An Origin Realm being could crush us like ants without effort. If I had my way, I’d rather not oppose the Mizumi Clan at all; their foundation is terrifying, a deep sea with no bottom. Stack our world’s top factions together, and we still come up short, especially on resources; we’d be stripped to the bone.”

“True. The Mizumi Clan has monopolized the Central Continent for hundreds of years; their depth is beyond anyone’s guessing, like a glacier beneath a calm sea,” Rangetsu said. “Thankfully, your side also has a supreme at the Origin Realm, a pillar like a mountain.”

In Rangetsu’s eyes, the greatest threat wasn’t the Mizumi Clan alone but their backing, Xinuo, a shadow like a great pine behind the house. The clan itself was despair-inducing, but if they united with forces from Wilsar’s world, it wasn’t hopeless, just a knife’s-edge walk.

“If we could get that Origin Artifact, it’d be a boon not just for us, but for our entire world, like lighting a second sun.” Lixin’s eyes flashed with hunger like a wolf’s; she still coveted Shattered Light.

“Idiot! Origin Artifacts aren’t things we can touch,” Nakat snapped, yanking her back like a hand catching a sleeve.

“But Wilsar’s at the Law Realm,” Lixin said, stubbornness like a nail in wood.

“Greed will swallow a snake that tries to eat an elephant,” Wilsar cut in, voice flat as stone. “Don’t imagine the Law Realm is that mighty. If I tried to seize that Origin Artifact now, I’d be erased in the next second by that Origin Realm existence, as easily as snuffing a candle. There’s no doubt.”

Lixin had talent and strength, bright as a fresh blade, but she was too young to grasp how terrifying the Origin Realm was, a cliff whose height you can’t see.

“Still, your intel balances your mistake,” Wilsar said, easing like thaw. “We’ll let your unauthorized action slide this time. Nakat, take Lixin to her room to rest.”

“Understood,” Nakat replied, bowing like a reed in wind.

After they left, Wilsar looked toward the palace eaves, his gaze distant as a horizon. “In this world, the God Race isn’t the strongest, so why are levels named with ‘god’? Below Saint, they even use letters.”

“According to the chronicles, the God Race was the first race to appear when the world was born, and they were the strongest for several millennia, a dynasty like a river that wouldn’t dry,” Rangetsu answered, tone steady as a drum. “The cultivation system was set then, and to flaunt their power and influence, they named the tiers themselves. The names stuck like old paint, and the Mizumi Clan never bothered to change them.”

“I see.” Wilsar’s answer fell soft as ash.

…