Around seven at night, I’d just plated dinner, steam curling like warm mist. Lanxia stirred and woke, likely drawn by the scent like a moth to a lamp.

“Where is this…?” Her eyes were fogged with confusion, like moonlight on a still pond, then she pushed herself up from the soft sofa.

Relief came first, like a rain after drought. I stepped over and kept my voice gentle as wind through leaves. “Lanxia, you’re finally awake. Do you feel unwell anywhere?”

I sketched what happened after she fainted, quick as a sparrow’s flight.

“Amemiya!” Surprise and gratitude surged in her eyes, bright as dew. She lunged into my arms like a wave breaking on shore. “You fed this dragon the legendary Holy Healing Fruit yourself! Such grace can only be repaid with my hand!”

“Hey, hey, who wants a dumb dragon’s marriage!” Lingxiao cut in, sharp as a bell. “Don’t use this to steal an advantage on our dear Big Brother! And the Holy Healing Fruit isn’t that rare. Off you go, away from our dear Big Brother!”

“Not a moment’s peace.” Lingsaki sighed, but her hands were swift as swallows as both sisters peeled Lanxia off me, cheeks puffed like little storm clouds. The familiar scene made me laugh, light as a spring ripple.

“Thanks to your Holy Healing Fruit, this dragon’s body isn’t just healed, it’s brimming with strength like a river in flood!” Lanxia bounced back to her usual energetic shine, eyes clear as ice. “Also, this dragon escorted the Foxfolk safely to their destination, not a hair singed.”

“Good work.” Calm settled, like evening over fields. “Let’s eat.”

“Dinner cooked by Amemiya himself?! This dragon wants it!” She dashed off like a shooting star.

“Don’t sprint. Wash your hands first,” I called, like a gentle tug on a kite string.

Watching Lanxia race toward the table set with dishes, heat loosened in my chest like a hearth catching flame. Yes, I love this simple, bright daily rhythm.

“Got it!” Her reply was crisp as rain on tiles.

…

Nalu looked weary, like a candle burning low. After dinner, she helped wash the dishes, then slipped back to her room and embraced sleep like a soft quilt. The last two days, Lanxia had fought the Tiger and Wolf clans, while Nalu led the Foxfolk in flight, barely resting at all.

For someone as ordinary as Nalu, that tiredness bites deep, cold as winter water. Sleep suits her best. I wanted Lanxia to rest too, but after dinner and a bath, her energy sparked like fireworks.

In my room.

Same as when we stayed at Nalu’s place, it was me with four girls in one space: Lingxiao, Lingsaki, Lixue, and Lanxia. I was used to it, like trees used to wind.

“We should be able to head for the Basiloth Empire tomorrow.” The thought settled like a compass needle.

Lanxia was a given; Nalu would also be back at her best by morning. The road calls again like a far drum. Not easy getting here.

“Basiloth Empire? Rest assured, this dragon will deliver you safely,” Lanxia said, patting her chest, puffed up like a proud cat in cute pajamas.

“Mm.” I checked the time. Only nine. Sleep now would be early, like sunset before the glow fades. I wasn’t drowsy. How to spend the hour?

My gaze slid to the Dual Daynight Tomes on the table, placed by Lingxiao and Lingsaki like twin lanterns. “Can I read the Book of Day and the Book of Night?”

“Of course! Everything that’s mine and Lingsaki’s belongs to our dear Big Brother,” Lingxiao chimed, voice sweet as honey. “Don’t even ask, just take them.”

“Same here. All we are is our Big Brother’s,” Lingsaki added, soft as a drifting cloud.

“That makes me happy,” I said, warmth blooming like a spring bud.

With their nod, I picked up the twin books and turned a few pages. Lines of magic unfurled like constellations. I couldn’t fully grasp them, but for passing time, reading their introductions was a river to wade.

“Eh? Dear Big Brother is fascinated? With such dry content?” Lingsaki teased, voice like playful rain.

“It wasn’t dry for us,” Lingxiao laughed, memory like a candle’s glow. “When we first got the Dual Daynight Tomes, we were just as enchanted.”

Before I knew it, the sisters drifted behind me. Their foreheads rested on my shoulders, gentle as doves, and we read together, three heads under one lantern.

Their weight was a soft press, like snow on a branch, and flipping pages got tricky. But the feeling was warm as tea. I let it be.

I skimmed, not diving deep. Half an hour, and both books lay complete like fields walked end to end.

“Whew. So many spells.” Awe rose, bright as sunrise. “I’m a bit jealous of Qianji Sister, able to wield both blade and magic. That’s so stylish.”

Sword techniques flaring while magic blooms—just picturing it dazzled like fireworks.

“A pure Sword Wielder is stylish too, dear Big Brother,” Lingxiao said, voice clear as a bell.

“Right. That fight a few days back—Big Brother, you were truly cool,” Lingsaki added, steady as a river.

“Really?” I smiled. “As a Sword Wielder, I think Lixue’s way is even cooler.”

“Lixue… yes,” Lingxiao nodded, eyes like stars. “She took on ten god-tier beastmen alone and won.”

“Both sides are cool,” Lingsaki concluded, even as a balanced scale.

I set the Dual Daynight Tomes back on the table, like placing jade on silk, and we drifted into chatter. Maybe hearing her name, Lixue came over, presence crisp as frost.

“Everyone has their own fighting style,” Lixue said, calm as moonlight on snow. “The best is what suits you. ‘Cool’ is just dressing.”

“That’s true.” Curiosity sparked like flint. “Lixue, how did you beat those ten god-tier beastmen? It was amazing.”

She considered, eyes steady as winter lakes. “First, I had spirit elixirs from Lingxiao, a steady fire under the kettle. Second, those beastmen were slower than me, like oxen chasing swallows. Third, the Ice Illusion Moon bit into beastmen with exceptional effect and carried a suppression, as if frost weighing down grass. Beyond that, beastmen nowadays feel weaker than a millennium ago.”

So Lixue could sense her weapon suppressing the foe, an aura like storm-pressure. Her Ice Illusion Moon, like my Shattered Light, carried the breath of the Primordial Source.

“Beastmen today weaker than those a thousand years past? Why?” My doubt rose like mist.

“To my knowledge,” Lixue said, voice clean as ice chips, “beastmen a thousand years ago boasted terrifying flesh and a multitude of martial techniques like a forest of spears. With their decline, the manuals and training paths vanished like scrolls in fire. Now, few beastmen still grasp the arts that once crowned them. At least those ten I faced knew no real techniques—only brute force, swinging like storm-blind trees. If they had used refined arts, my victory wouldn’t have flowed so smooth.”

“Wow. You really know their history,” Lingxiao said with quiet respect, eyes soft as dawn.

“It’s not much.” Lixue’s tone cooled like the shade of a glacier. “Back in the Palace of Ice Crystal, besides training, I loved chatting with my teacher. Listening to tales of ages past was my greatest joy—my campfire. I learned that piece of beastman history from her.”

“The loss of beastman techniques should be tied to humans, right?” Lingsaki mused, thoughts drifting like smoke. “Most people wouldn’t want beastmen to rise again.”

“Correct.” Lixue’s answer fell like a snowflake. “Humans destroyed most beastman martial techniques.”

“Such waste,” Lingxiao sighed, like wind over empty plains. “Those arts were gems.”

…

After about an hour of talk, we washed up, water whispering like streams, then turned off the lights and slept. As always, Lingxiao and Lingsaki shared a bed with me, warmth like a winter brazier.

“Good night,” I murmured, quiet as starlight.

…

Morning broke, pale as a pearl. After breakfast and packing, we didn’t dally. We climbed onto Lanxia’s dragon back and followed Nalu’s route toward the Basiloth Empire, cutting the clouds like a silver blade.

Lanxia flew full speed, wind peeling past like river rush. In just two hours, a majestic sprawl rose below, vast as a mountain range.

The Basiloth Empire truly lives up to “first of the three empires” on the Northern Abyss Continent. Even from high above, its grandeur surged like a tide. Standing within it would surely not disappoint.

Soon, Lanxia began to descend, wings carving air like fans. Unlike our first drop into the Ice Rock Empire, no fools tried to block us. Instead, people in the towns below lifted their faces, respectful as a field of sunflowers. Did they take us for dragon riders? On the Northern Abyss Continent, that name carries weight like iron.

“Lanxia, circle the country once,” I said, setting my gaze like a flying hawk.

“Understood!” Her voice flashed, bright as steel.

Lanxia basked in the attention like a cat in sun, and slowed, a glide smooth as silk. Thanks to that, we could study the streets and buildings below, every line clear as an ink painting.

Far better than the Ice Rock Empire. The Basiloth Empire’s cities felt balanced as scales, each with its own character, none overshadowed. It wasn’t a single giant like Moonhundred City with others trailing like tired horses.

I noticed many beastmen and other nonhumans in almost every city, mingling with humans like rivers merging. The tolerance for other races felt high, a breeze that sits well.

There were ancient building clusters, old towns and streets thick with time, like moss on stone. Scenic spots were countless, like stars at sea. Especially near the coast—sky-piercing peaks speared through clouds, mountains and sea woven together like silk and water. Gorgeous as a painting.

“The Basiloth Empire’s scenery is wonderful!” Lingxiao’s delight rang like chimes.

“Same,” Lingsaki said, eyes glittering as fish scales. “Each place has its own face. I almost don’t have enough eyes.”

“I think it’s fine from afar,” Lixue said, cool as morning frost. “On the ground, it can turn dull fast.”

She remembered Moonhundred City, no doubt—streets like nets that tangle mood. It’s true. Many places shine from a distance but falter up close, like a lotus with a worm.

There’s a saying—lovely from afar, disappointing up close. Too many things can sour a walk, like grit in tea.

“Agreed. If we get hit with flirtation like last time, that’s a downpour,” Lingsaki muttered, wry as a crooked smile.

“Too many people weighs on the mood,” Lingxiao added, soft as a sigh.

Both sisters sided with Lixue. It left me helpless, like a boat in a slow eddy. I felt the same.

“Ahaha… crowds make life lively,” Nalu said, laughter thin as a reed. “Better than lonely emptiness, right?”

“Crowds invite bold idiots to hit on us,” Lingsaki replied, sharp as a thorn.

I kept feeling a distance from those below, as if we lived on separate shores. Hard to blend. Instead, I hoped they wouldn’t come too close, like waves held by moon tide. For some reason, that thought trails me wherever I go.

…