“Mr. Wilsar, how are power tiers set up in your world?”

Curiosity rose in Rangetsu like mist at dawn, yet caution held him fast like a tether. He and Wilsar were partners—for now—and Dark Demon stood on the weaker side. Asking for battle grades felt harmless, a pebble tossed into a deep lake, so he finally spoke.

“Over there…” Wilsar thought briefly, then answered like a blade drawn clean. “Four great realms: Elemental Realm, Principle Realm, Law Realm, and Origin Realm. Each realm has four ranks—initial, intermediate, advanced, and pinnacle. That’s close to what you use here.”

“Elemental Realm?”

Rangetsu’s brows knit like clouds gathering; the other three made sense.

“Anyone who can’t use power of laws sits in the Elemental Realm,” Wilsar said, voice steady as a ledger. “By your system, that’s below the Sacred level.”

“Then why call it Elemental?”

“This world’s mainstream is mages and Elf Users, right?” Wilsar didn’t answer; he tossed the question back like a stone skipping water.

“…Hard to say. There are many professions,” Rangetsu replied, words as even as rain. “But mages and Elf Users are the most common, so people call them mainstream.”

“In our world, every path begins with grasping elemental energy,” Wilsar said, his tone firm as ironwood. “Only at the Principle Realm do you shed that skin completely.”

“I see.” Rangetsu exhaled, thoughts drifting like leaves. “Compared to that, our naming feels messy.”

Wilsar’s structure lit Rangetsu’s eyes like lanterns—simple, clear. This world had ugly letters from F to SSS, then Sacred Realm, Divine Realm, and Overdeity. It felt both fussy and small.

“Of course,” Wilsar said, pride flaring like a banner. “Those four realm names were set by beings of the Origin Realm, supreme as the zenith. Not like this world, where gods dictated it. Laughable.”

…

The Leisure Dominion ate mana like a slow-burning hearth. Its size and what appeared inside scaled with the caster’s strength. With Lingxiao and Lingsaki as they were, its range was only half a Foxfolk settlement. Still, every facility to rest and unwind lay ready like cushions in a tea house.

Mana cost to sustain the Dominion could be fed with mana crystals, solid stars in your palm. So we could stay inside until Lanxia and Nalu returned. Magic was convenient, a river that carried work away—whoever invented domestic spells was a lazy genius with a bright mind. I thought that, warm as a cat in sun.

In an open-air hot spring, we soaked in gentle water, steam curling like silk.

“Lingxiao, Lingsaki, are things in the Leisure Dominion all real?”

Lixue cupped clear spring water, concern glimmering like dew. She asked in a soft voice.

“Mm, we aren’t totally sure,” Lingxiao said, chewing the thought like a slow bite. “The full version is hard to cast, with conditions piled like bricks. The Book of Day and Book of Night forcibly bypassed most. So this Dominion is a trimmed version, and everything inside is sustained by mana.”

“Probably,” Lingsaki added, following the thread like a kite string. “Things here don’t feel conjured from mana. Per the Dual Daynight Tomes, Leisure Dominion is likely a pocket plane. We summon it and feed it mana to persist. Because the tomes simplified casting, we only pulled a fragment, not the whole.”

“Makes sense. Good enough.”

Lixue let the question go like a leaf on water. Overthinking wouldn’t help—when people eat, who ponders the field of origin?

I was washing my hair when a soft touch bloomed behind me, like a girl’s hand on fresh snow.

“Emperor, want me to scrub your back?”

It was Lixue behind me… wait! Lixue scrubbing my back? What kind of flag is this? And saying it right in front of Lingxiao and Lingsaki—was that okay?

“I want to scrub dear brother’s back too!”

“Brother fought an Overdeity-level powerhouse for so long today. Let us help him unwind.”

As expected, the sisters drifted in like petals, both eager to scrub.

“No. I came first.”

I meant to refuse—half from shyness, half wanting to simply soak like a stone. Lixue cut in, her voice firm as a sash.

“The three of us scrubbing Emperor together would backfire, right?”

“Mm… true. Since Lixue said so, fine.”

“Can’t be helped. We were late.”

Reluctance lingered like scent, but Lingxiao and Lingsaki stepped back, obedient as well-trained cats.

“Then let me scrub your back.”

Lixue took a wet towel, hands gentle as drifting snow, and wiped my back with slow strokes.

“Eh? We’re just starting? I didn’t even say anything.”

My will was a feather on the wind—ignored, even if I enjoyed it.

“What did you want to say, Emperor?”

“…Nothing in particular.”

I dropped the protest like a pebble. At this point, better to accept the water and the moment.

“Your skin is beautiful, Emperor,” Lixue murmured, delight warm as tea. “Fair and delicate, your build slender—like a lovely maiden.”

“Mm-hmm! Our dear brother is truly pretty! In this foggy steam, there’s a dreamy glow.”

“Agreed. Brother is dashing in battle, and lovely in peace.”

“Eh? You’re not tired of this topic yet? Please stop saying I look like a girl! It’s crushing, you know.”

I wanted to cry but the steam held the tears back. Being a man and getting praised as pretty again and again… I shouldn’t have mixed baths with them. Not that I had a say; Lingxiao and Lingsaki would have dragged me in anyway like playful river sprites.

“Looking pretty is an advantage. You should be proud, Emperor.”

“Yeah! Chin up, dear brother.”

“A pretty boy beats ordinary looks. Don’t resist compliments; accept them with ease.”

“Ugh! As a man, I want ‘handsome,’ not ‘pretty!’”

I said it aloud, but I didn’t dislike their chatter. Instead, I savored the cheerful air, light as wind-bells.

…

Elsewhere, while Lanxia and Nalu escorted the Foxfolk, four Divine-level powerhouses from the Tigerfolk and Wolffolk came prowling, trouble sharp as claws.

Before battle, beastmen traded lines like drumbeats, buying time to gather breath. Chasing Lanxia had taken effort like running uphill.

Seeing the Foxfolk’s frightened faces wrenched envy tight like a fist. Why should mere Foxfolk earn the Mizumi Clan’s sympathy? Why get to migrate elsewhere? And worse—why did the proud Dragon Kin escort them? That treatment stung like salt in a wound.

“Hmph. You don’t value your lives! You dare meddle with a task Mizumi entrusted to this dragon?”

Lanxia told Nalu to lead the Foxfolk far and hide like birds under cliffs. She faced the four, annoyance flashing like sparks. Even if they were Divine-level, she looked down; the gap between beastmen and Dragon Kin was abyss and sky.

“We’ll handle the dragon. You two, stop those lowly Foxfolk!”

Their mission was to stall Lanxia, but jealousy swelled like a storm. Her scorn lit their tempers, and they aimed to vent it on the Foxfolk.

“You dare act so arrogant before this dragon?!”

Lanxia snapped, tail lashing like a winter whip to block the wolf and tiger that darted forward.

Bang!

Unafraid, the tiger gathered brutal strength into both fists, knuckles like meteors. He slammed the thick dragon tail. The wolf used sharp claws and blinding speed, raking the scales, then slipped past, sprinting for the Foxfolk.

“Ow!”

She pulled her tail back in time; it almost broke like tree wood under an axe. A Divine-level tiger’s strength wasn’t far from Dragon Kin, and the wolf’s claws could crush boulders.

She had underestimated them; beastmen’s status might be low, but their power was real as iron.

One against four—Lanxia faced a hard climb, breath frost-white. She was only Divine-level initial. Three enemies were initial, one was intermediate.

“Everfrost Court!”

She unfurled her domain without hesitation, frost spreading like a silent tide. A thousand meters around froze under her will, and the wolf was stopped, trapped by walls of cold.

“Looks like we can’t leave without beating this dragon.”

“A dragon’s domain—troublesome.”

Everywhere rose vast ice walls, countless as reeds. Break one, and two or three grew back like winter weeds. The temperature sank, air biting like wolves. Stay too long, and you’d freeze into a statue.

No choice—fight hard. The four exchanged a look, a pact in their eyes, then moved to encircle Lanxia, formation tight as a snare.

Thank the stars it was inside Lanxia’s domain, or she’d be pushed under like a boat in storm. Even so, the fight was grueling, breath and frost trading places. For four Divine-level beastmen, the domain’s drag wasn’t heavy.

Her body was too large, a mountain in a narrow pass. For them, she was a target that couldn’t be missed.

“Damn it! Mere Tigerfolk and Wolffolk!”

Soon, the beastmen learned her rhythm, like hunters reading wind. Their counterattack rose, and Lanxia slipped into bitter struggle, claws and frost clashing like steel and hail.