“…This is the so‑called supreme Origin Realm being?”

The drop was too steep, and Aunt Saintvoice muttered on reflex, like a pebble skittering down a cliff. We finished the spiral stairs, a coiled dragon of stone, and reached the deepest of the Soulless Sanctuary, a cavern of breathless cold. What greeted us was a prison like a rusty cage in winter mist. Inside, sealed by runes like frost chains, sat a skin‑and‑bone “old man,” eyes dull as dead embers, life‑breath thin as smoke.

If not for the Primordial Source aura rolling off him like a tide under a new moon, we wouldn’t have believed he was an Origin Realm being at all. The gap from our myth to this reality felt like glass shattering in the dark.

“Saintvoice, that’s rude.”

Qianji Sister tapped Aunt Saintvoice on the head, a knuckle on a temple like a wooden fish. Then she bowed, voice steady as spring rain. “Our apologies, senior. Please don’t hold it against her.”

“Heh. That reaction’s normal,” the old man said, voice like dry reeds in wind. “I’m the one who shattered your image of the Origin Realm, and for that I’m sorry. By the way, my name is Wanxin.”

He gave a bitter smile and shook his head, like dust sloughing from an old robe, and he waved us to set our worries down like baskets at a door.

“Dear brother,” one sister tugged my sleeve like a sparrow pecking grain, “could the real Origin Realm being be hiding elsewhere? This doesn’t look like the legend at all.”

“I’ve got the same question,” the other breathed, voice thin as a thread. “Aren’t Origin Realm beings like Sister Xinuo, standing at the world’s peak, doing the impossible like it’s a game? How is he a prisoner in chains?”

The two drew close, their whispers like moth wings, and poured their thoughts into my ear.

I could only answer with a helpless sigh that drifted like fog. “There’s got to be a deep reason here. But he is an Origin Realm being. No doubt on that, not even a hair.”

“Honestly, he scared me when I first saw him,” Lixue admitted, surprise still trembling in her eyes like ripples on a pond.

Heartvoice and Celia Maya were already huddled together, whispering like wind through bamboo, disbelief written on their faces like frost patterns.

“Uh‑wah, I think I found this Wanxin’s background.”

Wansheng blinked out of her deep thought like a lantern relit, and she and Wanling explained at our side, voices like paired bells. “We just pulled a bit of info on Wanxin from the Soulless Sanctuary itself, like drawing water from a hidden well.”

“If that info’s right, Wanxin was sealed here by Sir Xino,” they went on, each word a pebble tossed into still water. “Back then, he and another Origin Realm being stood against Sir Xino. Wars flared like summer thunderstorms. They lost, and he fell to this state.”

“...Huh?”

The load of information hit like a wave, and I stalled like a boat in kelp. Looking at Wanxin’s ragged state, he had to have been shut in here for countless years, like a clock with no hands. To push Xinuo this far, he must have offended her to the marrow.

“Those two little artifact spirits are right,” Wanxin said, the smile on his face thin as paper. “Please leave me a little face and don’t overreact.”

“So offending Sister Xinuo ends up this terrifying,” Lingxiao murmured, her words drifting like falling ash.

“Yeah,” Wanxin exhaled, the sound a tired flute in winter. “Very terrifying.”

The past blew through him like an old wind. It could scatter. It could return.

“You’ve reached what you came to the Soulless Sanctuary for, haven’t you?” Wanxin asked, eyelids half‑lowered like a dying fire. “Will you head back, or do you still want stories of those years?” He clearly didn’t want us lingering like dew that refused to dry.

“We came to the Soulless Sanctuary to hunt the secret buried at the deepest root,” Aunt Saintvoice said, eyes sweeping the stone like a hawk over snow. “Looks like we found it.”

Then her gaze cut around us like a blade. “But I keep feeling Molor and Wilsar are nearby, like snakes in tall grass. Senior Wanxin, do you know anything? They’ve done every evil under heaven. They’re wanted by our Mizumi Clan. If you know something, please tell us.”

“Oh?” Wanxin shook his head, the motion a dead leaf spinning down. “All these years, no one but you has reached this place. It’s probably just your illusion.”

“Absolutely not,” Wansheng shot back, her tone ringing like steel. “There’s residue of those two here, faint and blurred like smoke, but real. No doubt they haven’t left the Soulless Sanctuary.”

“They must’ve been hidden by someone,” Wanling added, eyes narrowing like drawn strings. “Could it be…”

She didn’t say it, but the name hung in the air like thunder. In this Sanctuary, who could hide Molor and Wilsar besides Wanxin?

“You’re suspecting me?” Wanxin’s smile vanished like a wick pinched wet. “A fallen tiger, barked at by pups—so that’s what I am now? Words of an Origin Realm being, doubted by a handful of children.”

His Primordial Source aura clenched like a fist. It gathered as wind, a storm born in a sealed jar, and rushed us in a cutting gust. Danger surged up my spine like icy water. My limbs locked like iron in frost. Even standing felt like holding a crumbling cliff.

What now? He moved without warning, like lightning under cloud. He was still an Origin Realm being, no matter how starved. Against that, we were reeds before a flood.

At the snapping instant, Shattered Light and Ice Illusion Moon flared. Gold and blue burst out like twin suns breaking fog. The Primordial wind unraveled and blew away like dandelion fluff.

“Everyone, heads up!” Wansheng threw a defensive barrier around us, a shell of light like a pearl. Her voice was grave as a temple drum. “This Wanxin isn’t a kind soul. Eight or nine chances out of ten, he’s with those two.”

Wanling stepped in and reinforced the barrier over and over, layers stacking like lacquer.

“I’m not with them,” Wanxin said, gaze steady as a stone. “I just won’t break a pledge I gave beforehand.”

“Then what was that just now?” Qianji Sister’s tone sharpened like hoarfrost. She clearly didn’t buy it.

“A whim,” Wanxin said, eyes sliding aside like a cloud moving off the moon. “Don’t mind it. Besides, you’re fine, aren’t you?”

“So you’re dead set on sheltering them?” Qianji Sister asked again, words like pins laid in a row. With her temper, she’d normally strike like a lightning bolt. This time, she held back, our hands tied by chains we couldn’t see. He was sealed and looked weak, but he was still an Origin Realm. With what we had, we couldn’t touch him.

“Think what you like,” Wanxin said. “I plan to rest. If you can, don’t be noisy.”

He closed his eyes, lids falling like curtains, and his silence shut the door on us.

“If he won’t talk,” Aunt Saintvoice said, squaring her shoulders like settling armor, “we’ll drag those two out our way.”

She and Qianji Sister both looked at me. “We’re sure those two are still in the Soulless Sanctuary, or close. We just don’t know where they’re hiding. Emperor, use your Sword Intent. Sweep the area. See if you can pull them out.”

“Of course, we’ll help,” they added, their words a steady hand. “Let’s try.”

“Why not have Wansheng and Wanling do it?” I asked, honesty standing naked like a sapling in wind. “They’re far stronger than me.”

“In here, Primordial Source is so dense it’s almost solid, like fog you can touch,” Wansheng said. “Our senses are smothered hard.”

“And Shattered Light in your hand cancels most outside Primordial interference,” Wanling added, voice clear as a spring. “You’ll be affected the least.”

“I see,” I said. The answer landed like a key in a lock. “Alright. I’ll try.”

I didn’t hesitate. I let the Sword Domain bloom. In an instant, golden brilliance poured out like dawn spilling over a ridge and covered the whole stretch around us like a tide of light.