“So many—like stars spilled across dark silk. Do we really have to count them one by one?” Edlyn’s voice frayed like a taut string. Eli laughed and shrugged like a reed in wind. “I’m kidding. Just get a rough count. I want to see how many kinds of primordial energy formed after that stretch of explosions.”

“These are special energies we’ve never seen.” Eli’s face lit like sunrise through fog.

“Uh… so what? Why are you suddenly so into this? And… where do these energies go in the future?” Edlyn frowned, annoyance pooling like rainwater in a cracked basin.

It was too tedious, like counting stars on a cold night.

A lively Demonic Lord couldn’t sit still, like a kite tugging its string.

Eli kept smiling, warm as a spring breeze. “Edlyn-chan. Don’t look at it like that. I’ll explain.”

“These energies existed before any history,” Eli said, voice calm as moonlight on a river. “After thousands of years, they merged and assimilated. After countless more, they settled and turned into the energies we know.”

“Doesn’t that mean the energy people use now is stronger? Why bother with this?” Edlyn’s doubt fluttered like a moth.

“Maybe,” Eli said with a soft grin. “But some were so strong they drew a siege from other energies and were erased, like a bright flame smothered by snow.”

“They’re just energy. Could they have that kind of will?” Edlyn’s disbelief glittered like ice.

It felt like someone claiming demonic qi has a mind and can swallow people whole, a story thick as smoke.

Edlyn would have laughed, like a bell ringing in clear air.

Eli smiled, helpless as a cloud in crosswinds, and rubbed her small head like smoothing grass in a breeze. “Okay, okay. I’m not sure either, so I can’t explain it well yet. Let’s finish the count first.”

“Oh.” Edlyn nodded and returned to her task, like a sparrow pecking seeds along a path.

“But… how do you know so much?” She tilted her head, curiosity curling like incense smoke. “I don’t remember you ever keeping notes.”

“People change.” Eli’s smile held weight, like a mountain under mist. “After seeing too much, what I seek shifts. To protect you—protect us—my old sloppy self won’t cut it.”

“Eli… we need to talk.” Edlyn sighed, her face set like stone before rain.

Eli stiffened and scratched his head, sheepish as a cat caught stealing fish. “I said too much. Let’s keep working.”

“Eli!” Edlyn raised her voice, eyes complicated as a stormy lake.

Eli turned aside, stubborn as a rock in a stream, unwilling to say more.

“Edlyn-chan, knowing too much isn’t good for you.” He raked his hair back, letting it flow like a dark waterfall, a faint shadow crossing his gaze. “Don’t you trust me?”

The words pricked. Edlyn felt a small hurt bloom like a bruised petal.

She bit her lip. Tears shimmered like dawn dew.

“You think I’m deadweight, don’t you? Useless. If I know things, I’ll mess up your plan and drag you down?”

“Tsk… that’s not what I meant.” Eli sighed, hands unsure, like birds not finding a perch.

“But that’s how you act. You think I can’t help. Or that I’m a fool, easy to trick.” Edlyn dipped her head and wiped the wet glimmer away, quick as a swallow’s wing.

She didn’t know why it hit her. The ache just swept in like a cold wind under a door.

“Look, you didn’t tell me about our future either, did you?” Eli sighed, trying to redirect the river.

“That’s different. Those things are fixed. When they show up, we’ll have gone back and become them.” Edlyn cleared her eyes, like wiping a fogged mirror.

“But you’re hiding a big thing. My father looks worried every time he speaks with you. If I couldn’t guess, then I really would be a fool. There’s a disaster that could break us, and you won’t tell me why.” Edlyn’s jaw set, stubborn as a young pine.

“I only want to say… I can protect you.” Eli exhaled and pulled her into his arms, a roof against rain.

Edlyn wriggled lightly, eyes bright as wet glass. “Then why can’t I know?”

“If you don’t know, maybe the One will spare you.” Eli frowned, lost as a traveler in fog. “That’s my thought.”

Edlyn lifted her reddening eyes, like embers under ash. “The One?”

“Mm. Let me start from the beginning.” Eli rubbed her head again, warm as sunlight through leaves.

“You’ll tell me?” Edlyn stared, disbelief flitting like a sparrow. “You’re not just making up a reason to trick me?”

“No, silly.” Eli sighed, then leaned in and pecked her cheek, a butterfly kiss.

“Then talk. I’m listening.” Edlyn straightened, anticipation rising like a tide.

“Uh… that switch was fast.” Eli looked at her, half amused, half helpless, like a fox at a riverbank.

Edlyn pouted, lips like a cherry. “At least the tears were real.”

Eli watched her, words stalled like a cart in mud.

“What? Say it.” Edlyn urged, impatience flickering like a candle.

“Ah? Oh, right. Okay.” Eli pointed downward, like an arrow loosed. “Let’s change places.”

“Mm.”

“This story starts before anything else starts. In the time we’re in now.” Eli sat in a tree, holding Edlyn, leaves whispering like soft rain.

“Mm.” Edlyn nodded, eyes calm as a lake.

Eli thought for a moment, gaze distant as a horizon. “Edlyn-chan, do you remember where we stopped counting?”

“Uh… the two thousand seven hundred and eighth, I think.” Edlyn tilted her chin, thinking like a fox under moonlight.

“Uh… you’re pretty amazing.”

“Of course. Don’t drift. Talk.” Edlyn nudged him, urgency sharp as a bell.

“The One is kind of like your father’s father,” Eli said, voice steady as a pillar.

“Mmm… not exactly. The Abyss’s birth didn’t tie closely to him. At least not like your tie to the Abyss’s origin. You were crafted entirely by the Abyss. The Abyss counts as a first life born under the One’s system.”

“In our words, every life born then could be called a god.” Eli’s tone carried the chill of old stone halls. “Birand fooled me before. I thought only three lives were crossing blades. But when I came here, you feel it—it's not so lonely.”

“Point.”

“Oh. What we can confirm, from the Abyss’s memories and the clues we found: when the world was still chaos, only two living beings existed. One was the World Tree. The other was the One.”

“… That guy’s that scary?”

“Yes. He awakened wisdom earlier than the World Tree, like dawn beating the rooster. He set several laws of the cosmos. Then he sealed the World Tree in the space where it sits now.” Eli’s words fell heavy as snow on pines.

“….” Edlyn blinked, awe rising like mist. “Then… what does your disaster have to do with him? Why bring him up? Is he bored and coming to kill us?”

“No. He’s not coming just to kill us. He wants the entire universe to return to order, every power to kneel at his feet, including the World Tree.”

“How can you be that sure?” Edlyn asked, doubt coiling like smoke.

“The Abyss told me. Back then, the Abyss was a representative of one of the three camps. What he knew goes far beyond us.” Eli paused, voice rough as bark. “But the age is too distant. His memory is thin. That’s why we came back ourselves.”

“Huh?”

“In short, if we want to beat the One, we have to find his weak point while he’s still frail. That’s why we’re here, standing in this dawn before thunder.”

“But… there are already lots of lives here.” Edlyn looked around at the strange island, like coral dreamed into forests. “Things look odd, but close to our ecology. Except there’s no energy.”

Even the lack of energy had a reason, like a missing riverbed found upstream.

Her confusion churned, a pond pelted by rain.

“Uh… too many threads. I don’t know how to lay them out.” Eli scratched his head, a boy under a heavy sky. “Treat this place as a test ground. Templates built for the battle to come.”

“Like I said, I’m chasing truth too. I’m fogged up and can’t tell you too much.” Eli breathed, then squared his shoulders like a tree in wind. “You want the disaster. I’ll tell you.”

Edlyn nodded, finally stepping onto the main road, footsteps sure as drumbeats.

“In the future…” Eli looked far, voice like wind on mountains. “I mean a future more distant than our line. In that future, the world’s energy makeup shifts hard. It grows similar to here.”

Edlyn glanced around by instinct, eyes catching shadows like cats in twilight.

“Multiple energies coexisting?”

“Yes. And across the world, magic and Battle Aura take only a small share. The Church and divine authority no longer rule the continent. Humanity rules itself, with cities bright as constellations.”

“I sensed it. Saints are rare like comets. Meanwhile, superweapons bloom like black lotuses. There’s even a weapon ordinary people can drive—nuclear bombs.”

“Uh… I don’t get it.”

“Think of it like this: after some training, you could trigger a vast annihilation spell. It could wipe a region and kill even Transcender-level beings, like a storm scouring a plain.”

“That’s… so unfair.” Edlyn frowned, lines rippling like water.

“It’s how it is. Elements shift, and the world’s energy turns chaotic, like sand in the wind. Unlike now, you can’t purify by just breathing. Cultivation becomes climbing ice cliffs. The gains are small. Technology, held by the masses, presses cultivators down like a glacier. They hide in shadows.”

“Oh.”

“In that world, the One appears.” Eli’s voice dropped, a bell at dusk. “He’s the ancestor of all elements except the World Tree. By then, he’s strong enough to make anything fail with a thought, like snuffing candles with a blink. But he isn’t satisfied. He wants the whole world. We don’t know why.”

“And in that future, I die.” Eli trembled, a willow in storm. “You and our children—my dearest—have your lives taken before mine. I can’t accept it. He’s too terrible. The future me couldn’t even resist.”

Edlyn heard the fear, cold as night water in marrow.

She wrapped her arms around his head, pressed him to her chest, and held him like a hearth in winter. “Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid. I’ll stay with you. Don’t be afraid. Good boy.”