Lanxia and Nalu returned two days later. In that spell, we sank into rest like pines breathing after rain; our bodies felt polished jade, no dull edge left. With empty hours to sift battle-ash, we lined up lessons like stones along a riverbank. Experience settled; our footing grew steadier.

Besides reviewing, I kept seeking Lixue to trade blades. The itch to fight swelled like wind under a door, and she met it with a clear-spring smile. It helped us both. As for results… Lixue edged me out by a hair, her wins one more than mine.

…

“Lanxia, what happened to you?”

Stepping out of the Leisure Realm’s pocket sky, I froze—cuts bloomed across Lanxia’s scales and skin, her spirit dim as a fogged lantern. She saw me, folded back into human form, gave a relieved smile like dawn through clouds, and fainted. I caught her before she hit the ground.

“The wounds look deep. Did the Dark Demon’s lot and the tiger-wolf clans hound her too?”

“Yeah. Even a ‘dumb dragon’ like Lanxia sits at early God-tier, and Dragon Kin talent makes her bite harder than it looks. How’d she end up this torn?”

“Nalu, what do you know?”

I pressed a Holy Healing Fruit to Lanxia’s lips, sweet light seeping in like rain into dry soil. Then we turned to Nalu—her color was pale as paper, no cuts, just the tiredness that drifts after a long night.

“As Yugou said, tiger and wolf God-ranks ambushed us, and Lady Lanxia shielded us...” Nalu exhaled and laid out every thread, cause to consequence, like beads on a string.

So that’s how it was. Fighting while caging the battlefield so no tiger or wolf broke free to harass the Foxfolk—Lanxia struck with one hand, guarded with the other. No wonder the injuries cut deep. Still, she felled those four beastmen; call it two sides bloodied, but the field was ours.

The Foxfolk made it intact to their new grounds. Right now they’re raising a fresh village, stakes in earth like shoots after rain.

Bold of the tiger and wolf clans, really. Offending the Mizumi Clan wasn’t enough—they poked the Dragon Kin too, and Lanxia is the current patriarch’s granddaughter. Well, with their fate already fraying, they’ve woven their own noose.

“Whether it’s the Foxfolk business or the Dark Demon’s mess, it’s shelved for now. Time to pick our road again, yeah?”

The air felt heavy as damp cloth, so I cut the mood. We’d been stuck in this barren ridge for days, boredom gnawing like mice at grain.

“Emperor’s right. With the trouble paused, it’s time to play,” Lixue chimed in, bells in clear wind.

“Finally! We can ditch this cursed place!”

“Same. Stay longer and the walls start breathing on you.”

While we waited those two days, I sparred with Lixue often, life tight and lively like drumbeats.

For Lingxiao and Lingsaki, though, it dragged. The Foxfolk’s old camp was blasted into a single crater, the rest burned to ash, smoke wiped clean. All the time-killer stuff—novels, comics—gone; the precious tomes were carried off during the migration. The Leisure Realm holds no shelf to pass an idle hour.

So the sisters turned boredom into study. While we crossed blades, they dug into the Dual Daynight Tomes, unfurling new spells like buds opening at dusk. Good news worth a clap.

“Alright then, do you want to head to the Basiloth Empire first, or the Yarlan Empire?” Nalu asked.

“Which one’s closer from here? And which do you recommend, Nalu?”

“Closer is Basiloth. Recommendation’s Basiloth, no contest. Yarlan lacks a landmark like the Hundred Moon Tower, and Basiloth brims with historic sites.”

“Isn’t Yarlan one of the three great empires on the Northern Abyss Continent?”

“Power doesn’t mean rich sightseeing. Yarlan has nice places, but given your vibe, you’ll enjoy Basiloth more.”

Nalu’s point was simple—whatever Yarlan offers, Basiloth offers too, and sharper.

“There’s another reason I favor Basiloth.”

“What’s that?”

“Among Northern Abyss nations, Basiloth is the oldest. It preserves a sea of ancient architecture and relics. Its lands sit on the continent’s finest eastern rim, leaning toward the ocean. So Basiloth stands both as a strong empire and a treasure-house of travel. In short, if one country best represents Northern Abyss civilization, it’s Basiloth,” Nalu said, steady as a guidepost.

“I see. Deservedly first among the three empires. I’m getting hyped.”

“Same here. I’d pick old stones over neon lights any day.”

“Next stop, the Basiloth Empire!”

“Mm-hmm, Basiloth it is.”

After Nalu’s rundown, hope lifted in us like kites in a sea breeze.

Since plans were set, I suggested, “Let’s head back into the Leisure Realm for a proper rest. Once Lanxia and Nalu are fully mended, we depart.”

“Leisure Realm?” Nalu tilted her head, curious as a sparrow.

“You’ll know once you step in.”

…

Meanwhile, at the Worldgate standing at the world’s ragged edge—

“Sis, we’ve worked forever, and the seal still looks like unmoving stone,” FrostyLily Dream yawned, her complaint drifting like smoke.

I felt that weight too. Repairing the Worldgate’s seal is the dullest grind—no wind, no taste. I should be sipping life like tea, yet I’m stuck here, unmoving, threading power into an old wound day after day. It’s rotten work.

Xiyue’s to blame. If she’d stayed tucked in the Inner World, we wouldn’t be nose-deep in this.

Even so, we can’t leave the Worldgate unattended. If Xiyue’s true body descends, the “peace” I’m holding like a lantern will shatter. War will flood back in, harsher than the storms a thousand years ago.

That’s not the worst of it. We patch on this side, while Xiyue claws at the seal from the other, like knives on the same rope. The stalemate never ends; progress sits at zero. I miss the Servant’s cooking and his soft, cute face; I can’t see the end of this repair tunnel.

“Fewer complaints, more weaving. It’s my fault—I didn’t catch the Worldgate’s first twitch,” I sighed, breath cold as night.

I fed newly refined Primordial Source into the Worldgate, letting it seep like gold threads into cracked porcelain.

Draw power from heaven and earth—condense it—turn it into Primordial Source—use it to mend the Worldgate.

Since we erased Xiyue’s projection, those three steps are our entire day, a monotone drum that could drive a saint mad.

“This isn’t on you!” FrostyLily Dream shook her head like a willow. “No one could’ve guessed Xiyue could unravel your seal. It’s a pure accident!”

“No, I should’ve seen it coming. After a few sleeps, I almost forgot Xiyue existed.”

“...What’s your relationship with her anyway?”

“Rivals, I guess. Our natures rub like flint and steel.”

I touched that far-off chapter, and to my surprise, a thin nostalgia rose like old incense.

“Xiyue wants to return because she lost when you two fought over the world’s reins, right? What happened?”

“It’s plain. Our tempers clash, and our visions clash. Xiyue wanted to drive the world forward by sheer Origin Realm strength—under her rule. She even invited me to co-rule. I refused. From there, our ties frayed and snapped, and the war for management began.”

Boredom must be biting; I don’t usually tell these stories.

“So you had that kind of past... Why refuse? It sounds tidy on paper.”

“I believe the world should grow like a forest—by its own seasons, without Origin Realm hands pruning it. That stands opposite to Xiyue’s creed, so she soured on me. I prefer not to meddle, as long as it doesn’t touch me. But she kept pushing the line, and I stepped in. That’s the whole painting.”

“Can I ask how ancient this is?”

“About ten-plus thousand years after the world formed. I don’t remember the exact dawn.”

“That’s… very old!” FrostyLily Dream blinked, then asked, “Then why did you raise Yugou Sage and, later, the Mizumi Clan a thousand years ago, if you favor letting things be?”

“Simple. War turned the world into a smoke-choked ruin, no clean corner left. It disgusted me. And since I carry the world’s keys, I won’t sit idle.”

“Figures... Wait—look!”

While we spoke, the seal didn’t mend much. Worse, it cracked a touch more, a line like fresh ice breaking. Seems Xiyue’s patience snapped; she’s bringing real force to bear.

“No more chatter. Widen the repair, push hard.”

“Got it!”

Xiyue’s strength has climbed farther than I’d guessed. Shattered Light isn’t in my hand. Headaches lie ahead.

Which means we prepare for the worst and hope the wind proves kinder than fear.

…