Wansheng and Wanling still had a shimmer of doubt in their eyes, like ripples under moonlight. I flipped Shattered Light from bracelet to blade and held it steady, its edge glittering like broken starlight. At their insistent urging, I laid out every detail of my first meeting with Xinuo, memory unspooling like a silk banner in wind.

“This really is Sir Xino’s core Origin Artifact—Shattered Light! She even handed this to you, Yumigawa Sumeragi. Do you honestly not know what being her disciple means?!”

Seeing my puzzled face, Wansheng puffed her cheeks like a small peach, adorably displeased.

“Uh… I honestly don’t.”

Xinuo and I were teacher and disciple in name, yet I’d always felt free-range, like a kite left to its own winds. After leaving Egisia Academy, chances to meet became thin as winter sunlight. Even after we reunited at home, we split again in a day or two, like travelers at a forked river.

Before the Worldgate is resolved, it’s hard to return to that easy daily rhythm. The thought drifts in like autumn melancholy.

“…Forget it. I can see you don’t know much about Sir Xino, even though you’re her only disciple.” Wansheng stared for a few seconds, then sighed, her breath soft as mist.

“Because Little Nuo rarely talks about herself… Wait, you said I’m her only disciple. Do you mean right now, or…?”

For some reason, that dug at me like a thorn under skin.

“Across all recorded history,” she said, matter-of-fact as falling snow. “Neither the Master nor Sir FrostyLily Dream were formally acknowledged as her disciples. They only claimed it in their hearts. Even your Mizumi Clan ancestor, Yugou Sage—Sir Xino hardly paid him mind. She saw the tide of history turning and trained him to end the war era, nothing more.”

As Wansheng finished, Wanling, who’d been staring at me, muttered, baffled as a child peering into a mirror, “Exactly. Yumigawa Sumeragi, you don’t look that special. Your face is beautiful like the Elven Kind, sure… but the Mizumi Clan is full of beauties, so that’s not unique. What did Sir Xino see in you? It makes no sense. Did she want a maid? That can’t be it—if Sir Xino said a word, the Master and Sir FrostyLily Dream would fight to be her maid.”

“Ah-haha… maybe it’s fate?”

Knowing I was Xinuo’s only disciple lit a quiet joy in me, like a lamp in dusk. But their doubts stung, a light rain against the window. And they weren’t wrong; I never felt exceptional, not like our forebear.

“Maybe,” Wansheng said, shrugging like a leaf. “Since it’s her choice, she has her reasons. Guessing is smoke. Back to the point—do you want to know what being Sir Xino’s disciple means?”

“Eh? What does it mean? You’re making it sound mystic.”

“Could it be brother’s status is something huge right now?”

Lingxiao and Lingsaki perked up, curious eyes bright as stars. The others leaned in, a flock of sparrows under eaves.

“Of course I want to know. Please, tell me!”

It’s been a while since I felt this tight-nerved, like a bowstring drawn. I was tired, yet eager for the next words. Xinuo’s truth is mist; our family histories are dry pages without her ink.

“It means your status is roughly equal to a normal Origin Realm existence,” Wansheng said, cool as spring water. “Try having some self-awareness.”

“Huh?”

Even with Wansheng saying it, I couldn’t feel it at all. The idea jolted me like thunder without rain. Lixue and the others were just as stunned, minds blank as fresh snow.

“No, no… My current strength is at best mid-tier Overdeity Level. Saying I have Origin Realm status is too much, right?”

“Does strength and status have a necessary link?”

Wansheng chuckled, dismissive as a breeze. “Take a commoner. If they’re more than a friend to someone in your Mizumi Clan, their status jumps higher than their own country’s king. Believe that?”

“This…”

My thoughts slipped to Nalu on the Northern Abyss Continent, where we parted in the Basiloth Empire. I haven’t seen her since; her future feels faraway as a lighthouse at sea. Maybe reviving her clan turned easier; through us, she met the Emperor of the Ice Rock Empire. If Wansheng’s words hold water…

“Wansheng,” Wanling said, sighing like a soft rain, “telling Yumigawa Sumeragi this only throws him into confusion. His experience is shallow, and he doesn’t grasp status.”

Her words felt like a stray arrow to the ribs. Helplessness sat heavy, like damp clothes.

“Mm. Fair point.” Wansheng dipped her small head, a swallow’s nod. “Yumigawa Sumeragi, forget what I said a moment ago. Sorry—wrong timing.”

“No need,” I said, lifting a hand, hoping to clear the air like opening a window. “I’m grateful you told me.”

It was getting awkward. Right—Aunt Saintvoice mentioned she loved Supreme Divine Elixirs. I quickly took out two bottles and tucked them into Wansheng and Wanling’s arms, the glass cool as river stones.

“As thanks for telling us so much. A small gesture—please accept.”

“Oh, oh! As expected of Sir Xino’s disciple—you’re generous! The purity… it’s much higher than what Saintvoice gave us!”

“What a charming fragrance—just a whiff clears the mind like mountain air!”

Eyes sparkling, the two adorable little spirits rubbed their cheeks against mine, soft as cotton clouds. In a heartbeat, the cuteness healed me like sunlight through frost.

“Eh? The purity really is far better than mine.” Aunt Saintvoice stepped over and peered at the bottles cradled by Wansheng and Wanling, keen as a hawk. “Sumeragi, who refined these?”

“My teacher,” I said. “If you’re interested, Miss Holy Voice, I can give you some.”

As I spoke, Lixue pulled out several bottles of Supreme Elixir and handed them to Aunt Saintvoice, her movements smooth as flowing water.

“So they were refined by an Origin Realm existence,” Aunt Saintvoice murmured, approving as a bell tone. “No wonder the purity is near perfect.”

She accepted them cleanly, then paused, weighing a return gift like measuring tea. “Thank you, Lixue. Is there anything you want?”

“Nothing,” Lixue said with a soft smile. “The raw materials—the Supreme Divine Spirit Medicine—were picked on the Central Continent. Helping Aunt… helping you is the best reward.”

“You’re a good child!” Aunt Saintvoice’s smile warmed like hearth fire. “And calling me ‘Miss Holy Voice’ is too formal. If you don’t mind, call me Aunt like Sumeragi and the others.”

“…Alright, Aunt Saintvoice.”

As Lixue spoke, a flush rose to her cheeks, a petal-pink blush that set the air humming.

It hit me a beat later—if Lixue also called her Aunt, then our relationship lines blur like ink in rain. No wonder Lixue felt shy; even the room seemed to carry a gentle, ambiguous warmth.

“Aunt Saintvoice, don’t tease Lixue.”

“What? Are you in full protective-husband mode? That’s nice.”

“We’re not at that step yet! Don’t say things like that.”

“Not yet? So it’s just a matter of time?”

“…”

“Wow! Dear big brother, your face is so red—adorable.”

“Mm-hm. Brother’s so cute it makes you want to tease him. I get Aunt Saintvoice’s mood.”

Lingxiao and Lingsaki joined the mischief, their laughter like chimes. My heart felt tired and fond, a mix of winter and tea.

“This should be a serious time and place, yet Sumeragi and the others are playing.” Heartvoice said it, but a smile still curved her lips, gentle as moonlight.

“A little relaxation is good,” Celia Maya murmured, her gaze warm as sunlight, watching us banter.