I’d pictured the Inner World as a barren wasteland, a bleached plain under empty skies, yet today it blazed like a festival—every town a tide of people, traffic flowing like rivers of steel.
The air, though, pressed like damp wool; a metallic haze clung to my tongue, and even as I cleansed the air around us again and again like washing sand in a stream, an itch of disgust lingered.
Xiyue said its surge came from a magic-born industry a thousand years old, gears of spellcraft turning like windmills in a storm, so magic seeped into every seam and productivity roared like a furnace.
Take transport: in the Prime Realm it’s still mostly carriages, hooves drumming like rain on hard soil, while here mana-cars hum with blue runes like moonlight, sleek bodies cutting the wind like swallows.
Ships and airships soar under magenergy, hulls purring like tame thunder, not the crude, crystal-fired push of the Prime Realm’s old riverboats.
Magenergy is condensed elemental force, a distilled flame in a glass lamp; it’s almost perfectly adaptable and steady as a mountain, and even the street lamps here drink it like stars sipping dawn.
The roads impressed me too; concrete lay like poured river-stone, smooth and pale, and the wheels sang on it like skates on winter ice.
As for buildings, land is scarce and people are many, so no courtyards breathe like gardens; towers rise thin and high like bamboo groves, rooms multiplying like beehives, each great city styled with its own flavor like teas from different slopes, though less varied than the Prime Realm’s wild patchwork.
What struck deepest was magic’s reach—near total; it’s a nation of mages, a forest where every leaf shines, and even common folk learn low-tier spells the way fishermen learn knots, for the ease of life and work.
Worry came first, a weight like storm clouds; the Inner World’s living beings number two to three times the Prime Realm’s, so every street feels crowded like a market at New Year, in a land so narrow and hungry for resources, and magic for all plus industry devours fuel like locusts on wheat—by my eye, the Inner World stands on a crumbling edge.
Let it run like this and a few centuries will snap like dry reeds; its growth has hit the ceiling, and it seems Xiyue’s hands have never stopped moving like looms at dusk.
“How is it? After walking the Inner World, doesn’t the Prime Realm feel like the countryside, a quiet valley behind a hill?”
We skimmed a few nations like swallows skimming a lake, and Xiyue watched me with pride bright as lacquer; even border towns here buzzed like hives and rivaled imperial capitals, so you can guess how the center burns.
I had to admit it—this level of urban bloom was a first, a lotus opening overnight, and that surprise sat clean in my chest.
“Yeah. Honestly, the development shocked me like a bell, but the living environment is a mess, a swamp of smoke.”
Advanced is advanced, yet the thought of living here rubbed me raw, like grit in the eye.
“No kidding. The Inner World can’t carry its current life and its hunger to grow; how could the air still smell like pine?” Xiyue rolled her eyes, sharp as a flicked fan.
“So you knew?”
FrostyLily Dream couldn’t hold back; her voice fell cool as dew. “It’s obviously burning the Inner World’s lifespan like lamp oil. Keep on, and no matter how high your towers rise, the end is still ruin.”
“True. But there’s no road back now, like a boat past the bend. That’s why I must force a return to the Prime Realm, so the Inner World can keep breathing.”
Nice words, but they rang like polished jade over iron desire; I shot her a look as flat as a still pond. “You knew this ending from the start, didn’t you? Why walk the tunnel till it’s pitch-black?”
“People seek different peaks,” she said, soft as a sleeve settling.
She stopped, and the cityscape ahead sank into sunset like embers under ash; Xiyue’s eyes grew faraway, drifting with the red light.
“You and I stand at the Pinnacle of Origin Realm, our years stretching like an unending river. Doing nothing in that endless current would be dull as stale tea. Unlike you, I can’t sit still. I turned the Inner World from empty scrub to a blaze of prosperity, and that sense of making a forest from a seed is something your contented heart can’t taste.”
“…”
A sour note rose, like smoke in my throat; I couldn’t refute her, and I had no right to scold the mountains she’d raised.
“I don’t want to hear it from you,” I said, the words cool as shade.
“I don’t really get you,” she said, gaze steady as a drawn line. “If you hate trouble, then let the world flow on its own like a river after rain. Yet you built the Mizumi Clan to balance the rest, pinning the Prime Realm in place like a butterfly, bleeding its vigor.”
She turned to me, each word placed like a chess stone. “Do you think that’s truly good?”
“Better than war choking the people, better than smoke over fields,” I said with a tired breath.
“…Forget it. Words are reeds in the wind. Night’s here like a curtain; come to my place.”
“Mm.”
The Inner World’s strongest force wasn’t a nation or a clan, but a temple at the world’s center, broad as a plain and old as weathered stone, its aura rising like incense.
As many as ten at the Origin Realm worked there, pillars in flesh, and those who handled meals and dusting were all at the Law Realm, a show of force like banners on a wall; yet every face was female, the whole temple a sea without a single man.
Knowing Xiyue, she wanted her dwelling quiet as a secluded pond; the air here was surprisingly clean, a breeze close to Prime Realm freshness, like pine over snow.
“Welcome back, Lady Xiyue. And these two are?” Several at the Origin Realm came to greet us, their bows flowing like ripples.
“Friends of mine,” Xiyue said, light as silk. “Give the little sister a room. As for you, Xinuo… how about you stay with me?”
Maybe it was my imagination, but her eyes held a shimmer like starlight; I cut it off like a knife through frost. “No. I’ll share with FrostyLily Dream.”
“So cold,” she sighed, a smile thin as a crescent. “Of everyone, I’ve known you the longest.”
“And what of it?”
“…If you’re unwilling, I won’t force it,” she said, the edge sheathing like a blade. “Go prepare their rooms.”
“At once!”
They nodded and left, steps quick as swallows, and half a minute later I caught their whispers like reeds rustling by water—
“Who is that one called Xinuo? Her looks echo Lady Xiyue’s like moonlight in a mirror—she’s stunning.”
“More than that. Lady Xiyue’s tone was gentle as spring wind, even a touch close. It’s my first time seeing her bring a guest home.”
“And her strength… I can’t sense a depth at all, a well without a bottom. Could she be the same as Lady Xiyue, the Pinnacle of Origin Realm? That cute blue-haired little sister is clear enough—upper mid in the Origin Realm.”
“From Lady Xiyue’s manner, it’s very possible… Anyway, let’s not chatter by the door; get their rooms ready like setting tea.”
“Right.”
