“No. Impossible.” Birand stared at his own body, terror rising like a black tide over winter ice.

Eli frowned. A sigh drifted from him like mist. “Was she only your excuse for revenge?”

Birand lifted his head, while his body kept crumbling like windblown glass shards.

He glared, eyes like flint. “You don’t know anything.”

“I don’t know anything?” Eli’s laugh was cold as iron on snow. “I know, that’s why I said it. You think you’re formidable? You look like a crumpled reed.”

Eli reached out and gripped his mask, a pale moon over his face.

“Eli!” Edlyn’s voice chimed in his ear like a silver bell.

His hand slowed, the motion freezing like a stopped stream. He drew a long breath, then smiled at Edlyn like sunlight through clouds. “Sorry, Edlyn. I lost it. After all, I—”

“Alright, I get it. Just this once.” Edlyn shot him a look, sharp as a flicked fan.

Above, the Abyss brooded like a stormfront, and the watching Celestial Gods fell silent like birds before thunder.

After a beat, their gazes settled on the masked pair, and unease swelled in their chests like a bubble about to burst.

Eli smiled and turned back to Birand. He sighed, watching the other man’s body unravel like a sandcastle in surf. “If you’ve got a trump card, play it.”

Birand stared, confusion rippling like heat haze. Who was this man?

He couldn’t grasp how Eli seemed to know everything, every word crooked like a winding river.

“Who are you?” His shout broke rough, like bark torn from a tree.

“You don’t need to know.” Eli’s voice was level, a flat lake under gray sky.

Birand roared, and his power surged to his chest like a drawn bow. In the air, a longsword of gold light slowly formed.

It was Thias at its prime, a dawn-blade over the horizon.

Birand looked at the sword with apology, pain cutting like sleet. “I’m sorry.”

Thias trembled, the blade quivering like a leaf in wind, reluctant to part.

Then the sword named Thias shed its edge like a molting hawk. Its light dimmed like sunset. Birand reached out and cradled it to his chest.

Yulia started, eyes flashing like startled lightning. “Not good!”

She flung out her hands, and a vast aura surged toward Birand like a breaking wave.

“How… Thias actually…” Yulia’s voice shook, shock striking like thunder.

The Holy Sword had truly recognized Birand as master.

A breath of power, same root as hers, became a perfect ward like a living vine, winding tight around Birand.

“Too late!” Birand’s body set, solid as carved stone, no longer an energy wraith.

He stood again in human shape, like a figure stepping from fog. The splitting and decay ceased, and he slowly returned to his former look.

His eyes emptied, light draining like embers to ash, replaced by madness and cruelty like a winter wolf.

He swept Yulia’s energy aside like dust in a gale.

The blast wind hurled the nearest onlookers away like leaves. Only Eli watched him, pity soft as falling snow.

Feeling Eli’s gaze, Birand’s fury swelled like wildfire in dry grass. He ignored him, lifted his head to the star river, and killing intent poured down like a blizzard.

Birand drew Thias from his body, like a sun pulled from a clouded sky.

Cracks crawled over the blade like frost lines on glass.

Cracks laced Birand as well, spiderwebs spreading over stone.

Thias’s light bloomed again, fierce as noon. The glare pressed Yulia’s avatar down like a hand on a candle.

Eli stepped back, his boots whispering like reeds. He moved to Edlyn’s side and folded her into his arms like a cloak.

Sensing his low tide, Edlyn lifted her face and kissed his brow, a warm spark in winter.

Eli sighed and leaned on her like a weary traveler. “Birand’s emotions flowed to me through Thias.”

“Feel hollow?” Edlyn searched his eyes, soft as rain.

“No. Just a touch moved.” Eli lowered his head and kissed her brow back, a moth-soft brush. “From start to finish, I am him. But he isn’t me.” He held Edlyn tight, like anchoring in storm.

“Speaking of it, we’ll meet again soon, I think.” A thought lit Edlyn’s gaze like dawn.

Eli smiled and nodded. “Yeah.” He looked to the vault of heaven, a slate sea. “After this fight, the world’s top end gets thinned. But when the tide sifts sand, only the finest stay. Pity there aren’t many. Zero might need just one finger.” His words paused, a blade held midair.

Edlyn understood and sighed, resting on him like a willow on a bank.

In the sky, Birand’s chant finally ended, and the Abyss withdrew its crushing pressure like a receding storm.

Birand raised the Holy Sword and hewed at the endless firmament, a stroke like lightning splitting a mountain. Everyone heard a thread of power snap, ice cracking on a lake.

All high beings would bear this law-forged strike, weighty as a falling star.

Using Thias’s nature as a branch of the World Tree, he slammed the universe’s grand array like a hammer on a great bell.

From now on, breaking from Sacred Rank to Transcender would be hard as climbing a rain-slick cliff. The high-ranked with shaky roots would be driven back like waves from rock.

After Birand unleashed that strike packed with his despair, the divine realm shattered like a mirror.

At the same time, the Abyss of this era seized Birand’s soul like a fisherman’s net and left.

It knew that once a Celestial God woke, these were small ripples on a vast sea, not worth fretting over.

Alfred Great Snow Mountains.

This lay within the Miter Empire’s borders, a pale banner in wind.

But the Miter of this time was weak, a lamp guttering in draft.

Deep in the rarely trodden snows, a three-story chalet of fine timber stood like a warm ember in frost.

Above the roof, space opened into a vast vortex, a whirlpool in the sky.

Eli stepped out, carrying Edlyn in a princess carry, like a knight with a moonlight bride.

Edlyn pouted, cheeks pink as peach petals. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Heh, it’s just a princess carry. What’s there to be shy about, my princess?”

They traded easy jabs like sparrows chattering and went back inside.

Edlyn flopped onto the bed in a starfish sprawl, limbs bright as sunrays.

“Ah—finally home!” She hugged a pillow and rubbed her face in, like a cat on soft fur.

“Alright. Rest well.” Eli smiled and gave her a light pat, playful as a tap of rain.

“You rogue, scram.” Edlyn pushed at him with her foot, a small wave against a stubborn rock.

He gathered her into his arms like a snare.

“What are you doing? Let go!” She felt his hand misbehaving at her foot, and she smashed a pillow into his face like a flying cloud.

Eli beat a retreat, tail between his legs like a fox, and slipped out the door.

No rush. The monk can run, but the temple stays, he thought, a sly chuckle rustling like leaves.