Lixue’s aid from afar was a cup against a blaze, a thin stream tossed at a wildfire. Our stamina had bled out; strength and speed were pale shadows of before. Under Xinyin’s assault, I clung to defense like a leaf in storm wind. Forget pinning her—staying upright was already a kind of victory.

Clang! Clang! The clear ring of steel on steel chimed like cold bells under winter skies. I ceded ground in stuttering steps, my Sword Intent’s foresight fraying like worn silk. I wanted to turn the tide, to at least lose with a shred of dignity. But I’d reached a dead river’s edge—stones dry and pathless—with only the wait for exhaustion and surrender left.

“Reverse Sword: Instant.”

Heat surged like an opening furnace—her flaming Sword Aura cut low. Panic spiked first, then my body moved; I bent and raised my blade to catch the overhead cleave. Nngh—heavy as a falling mountain; my knees bowed like reeds, and I almost toppled before the gust passed. Then streaks of icy Sword Aura knifed in like pale comets, and layers of frost floated in the air like gauze.

“Such weak sword aura. Is this really where you stop?” Xinyin’s voice was dry as ash on the wind.

She glanced forward and swatted me away like a blown leaf. Fire Law condensed into her sword; she swept downward like a burning sun. The ice auras hadn’t even neared before the searing flame ate them whole, a red tide swallowing blue shards.

Cough, cough. Dust tasted like grit on my tongue as I forced myself upright. My Sword Domain unraveled like morning mist; I let it go with reluctant hands. Shattered Light guttered out the moment the Domain faded, a candle snuffed—pushing it now would only scorch myself.

Xinyin was angling toward Lixue. Fear pricked first; I threw myself forward, all haste and ragged breath—Lixue’s twin swords had shifted into the Icemoon Bow, and she needed time like a winter bloom needs sun.

“Ultimate Sword: Thunder Flash!”

I burned my last drop of strength, turning into a streak of sword-light like lightning over black seas, and drove at Xinyin.

“You still have juice to attack? Looks like your stamina’s decent, little Emperor.” Her tone was playful, warm as embers.

My rush hit a wall; Xinyin parried with casual ease, like brushing snow off a sleeve. I tried to drag the clock, dropped into basic sword arts—my limbs were too empty to fuel another technique.

She smiled like an autumn breeze and answered with swordplay alone, trading edges in simple lines. Her blade tapped my flaws with clean notes, pointing out gaps and slips—today’s fight, in truth, was only the first page of training.

Fatigue pooled like lead. My arms dulled, my head fogged like a river at dawn. I halted, breath a torn sail, and handed the hope to Lixue in my heart—please.

“Icemoon: Triple Extinction.”

The temperature plunged like night falling; cold mist stacked in layers on ground and sky, a silver veil of winter. Three crystal longswords rose within it, gleaming like frozen waterfalls, each humming with brutal power.

Xinyin’s brows lifted, a snowflake of surprise. “Nice. These strikes hit hard and fly fast.”

Strangely, she didn’t raise Sword Aura or Fire Law to guard. Instead she spoke to me, voice clear as spring water. “Little Emperor, your basic swordplay isn’t natural yet. Your past training centered on techniques and Sword Aura.”

The ice swords were already two meters away, bright and deadly. Shock flickered, then awe—Xinyin stepped with an elegant, peculiar footwork, a heron walking between reeds. She slipped past each edge by a hair’s breadth, then snapped her blade in precise angles, finding thin spots like cracks in glass. With deft flicks she changed their lines, guiding them into the sky until they vanished like stars at dawn.

So lightly she unwound one of Lixue’s strongest techniques, Icemoon: Triple Extinction. I stared, dazed—who knew basic sword arts could bloom to this height? Shame pricked, a thorn under the nail, for how I’d neglected the roots of the blade.

“Nngh.”

Lixue bit her lip, unwilling to yield, and drew the Icemoon Bow. Her hands trembled like willow leaves in wind; her stance wavered, a tower on sand.

“…It won’t do.”

She pulled the string at last, but before that faint ice-blue glow could gather into a sword, Lixue’s knees sank to the floor. The Icemoon Bow flowed back into twin swords, and Heavenly Snow Dance Burial melted away—her limit had hit like a closing door.

I ran to her and caught her, letting her lean into my shoulder. Worry came first, warm and tight. “Lixue, are you okay?”

“Overused. A rest will do.” She shook her head, a calm lake under frost, telling me not to fret.

“Looks like the match ends here.” Xinyin walked over, unhurried as falling snow, and sheathed her blade.

“Mm. We lost,” I said, the words bitter as tea gone cold. “Heartvoice, even suppressing yourself to Lord-God first tier, you’re still that strong.”

“We’re not your match right now,” Lixue added, voice soft as worn silk. “Even at the same tier.”

“Don’t brood over it,” Xinyin said, light but firm. “A Law Realm powerhouse suppressing to the Lord-God first tier is built to be unmatched at level.”

I reached for an elixir, and her look stopped me like a hand on the chest. “Elixirs are good, but don’t drink them like meals or water. That kind of dependence is poison, even if a Supreme Divine Elixir carries no side effects. Let your body recover itself. Feel the exhaustion after going all out—it helps, more than a little.”

“I get it.” The thought settled like a stone—herbs won’t always be at hand. Less lean, more stand.

“Good. Can you walk?” Her voice gentled, an evening lamp. “I had my handmaids prepare a medicinal bath to restore condition and ease fatigue. Go wash, then soak.”

“I can walk,” I said, breath steady as a small wind. “Lixue?”

“A bit strained,” she answered, nearly reclining in my arms, voice faint as snowflakes. “If I can, I’d rather rest more.”

“That worn out? Fine, I’ll send you.”

The world shifted like a page turned. The backyard training ground became a wide bathhouse, all facilities laid out like polished stones. From the deepest pool came a fragrance sweet as spring herbs, just a breath clearing the mind; the water held a green tint—the medicinal bath, a forest in liquid.

“I sweat a bit,” Xinyin said, casual as sunlight. “I’ll shower, then soak. Make yourselves at home.”

She vanished, a spark winking out, leaving just me and Lixue—wait. Lixue was undressing in quiet ripples, skin pale as moonlit jade. My eyes flitted like startled birds, unsure where to land.

“Emperor, wash me clean,” Lixue said, cheeks soft with pink, voice a whisper of snow. “I’m too tired to do it myself.”

Gulp. I wrapped her in a bath towel, warmth held like a cloud around her inviting form.

“…All right, if you don’t mind.”

“I won’t mind anything from you,” she said, trust clear as still water.

“…”

…