“Go south for thirty-two steps, then arc southwest for seventeen and a half.”

The System followed Nana Toki’s call down a narrow southern path, her steps small, her senses spread like a net over whispering leaves.

Inside the sword array, as the trio pressed forward, the forest’s Spirit Energy buzzed like a hive stirred by a stick.

Unease pricked first; Nana fanned a veil of Spirit Energy ten meters out, a mist ring ready to snap shut like a trap.

If anything went wrong, she’d drop the System and drag Blue Magpie back along their footprints, like a retreating tide.

The System wouldn’t die anyway; why worry about an immortal engine when her own skin burned like paper in the wind?

“Host, where do we go next?” the System asked, rooted like a nervous deer, while tiny Spirit whirlwinds flickered like fireflies and vanished.

Her little heart hung like a sparrow on a reed; it wasn’t fear, just first-time pressure pinching like cold rain.

They groped through the forest for half an hour, and stopped near a cave mouth gaping like a black pupil.

Spirit Energy drained, Nana stood within the sword array and couldn’t read its currents, like losing the river’s song in a storm.

She’d planned to stroll the ancient array’s inner ring, like circling a lake, find its eye, crack it, and slip away.

Now, with her well running dry, she couldn’t see how the array would flow; to push on meant rest or brute force.

Brute force was a cliff in fog, unwise; recovery was a slow drip in the Wildbeast Wasteland’s thin air.

This forest sat on the Wasteland’s rim, where Spirit Energy was sparse like winter sap; recovering could take forever.

Blocked as usual, Nana felt her heart heavy, like carrying a boulder up the rain-slick hill of fate.

If her System did anything useful, she wouldn’t be chewing on this bitter root like a mule in snow.

“...” The System stared, like a cat caught under a falling bucket.

“Anyway, trash System, can you read a formation’s flow?” Nana asked, crouched like a prowler, eyes on the moss.

“If you can, you can ride Spirit Energy and find the array’s eye, like following a river to its spring.”

“Uh... I hate disappointing you, but my Spirit Energy fights like a blade and does nothing else,” the System said, hollow as a reed.

“Sorry.” The word fell like a dull pebble into a deep well.

If sorry fixed anything, why keep this broken System that clattered like rusted armor?

“Um, sis, why aren’t we moving?” Blue Magpie asked, blinking like a curious fawn toward the cave’s cool throat.

Nana looked at her silly little sister and swallowed a sigh, like holding back a tide against a flimsy dam.

Blue Magpie was Golden Core Stage; splitting Spirit Energy to sense a formation was a river trick she could learn.

Nana didn’t need full understanding, just a sketch, like a map scratched in dust; then she could keep reading even dry.

If Blue Magpie described the flow, the path would clear like dawn; if not, it still beat smashing through a storm.

Decision made, Nana lifted her head. “Que’er, can you sense the Spirit Energy flow in this forest?”

“Spirit Energy flow?” Blue Magpie tilted her head like a bird listening for thunder.

“It’s like drawing Spirit Energy in,” Nana said, voice steady as a lantern’s glow. “Release yours, let it merge like rain into a river.”

“Then you feel its current. We’re trapped in this forest; without the flow, the maze sits like roots around our ankles.”

“Um... I don’t know how,” Blue Magpie said, lips pressed, the task tall like a mountain wrapped in cloud.

“But I can try for you,” she added, soft as spring thaw.

Vmm—

The instant Blue Magpie breathed out Spirit Energy, a vast white-lit formation traced itself underfoot, glowing like frost under moonlight.

The layout sprawled; Nana stood within and couldn’t see an edge, while its pressure hammered like drums in a canyon.

“Bad!” she hissed, heart jumping like a fish. “Is this the ancient sword array? Why show itself out of nowhere?”

Black clouds above split like floodgates, dropping hundreds, thousands of slender white Spirit Swords like a hailstorm from heaven.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh—

Whoosh whoosh whoosh—

Each sword shone crystalline, a clean white flame, and carried pressure like the third tier of Foundation Establishment.

They fell in a dense sheet, a blizzard of blades; terror pricked like icy needles against bare skin.

Nana couldn’t dodge; she yanked Blue Magpie behind her, drew her Black Great Axe, and hacked like a storm-driven lumberjack.

Clang-clang-clang—

Clang-clang-clang—

Swords rang against the axe’s edge and snapped like brittle icicles; the rhythm hammered like rain on tiles.

Her arms burned, muscles screaming like ropes under strain; she was strong, but numbers fell like locusts.

Many swords slipped past, stabbing earth on both sides like white stakes, dirt coughing like old lungs.

She kept Blue Magpie tucked behind, a chick behind a hen; if blades slipped through, her body stood as the last wall.

Shnk—

Shnk—

Several crystalline swords punched through her limbs, cold as winter nails; her pupils tightened like knots.

She didn’t stop; her axe sang like thunder, and she stood like a mountain wall under a white sword-rain.

“So this is the ancient sword array’s true bite?” Even damaged, its power loomed like a glacier’s weight.

Swords fell in terrifying counts, a sea from the sky; trees for dozens of miles shredded like paper into dust.

Nana felt herself flagging, breath ragged like torn cloth; she didn’t dare slacken, axe flashing like lightning across a black lake.

The roar rose and fell, a storm-tide of blades; pressure dropped like a falling millstone from the heavens.

“Host! Head for the cave!” the System shouted, voice cracking like a snapped bowstring.

Pressure above thinned like lifting cloud; Nana glanced up and saw the System, human-shaped, guarding like a small iron umbrella.

“Move, Host! Take Nesting Phoenix and retreat!” it cried, body pelted like a drum under a white rain.

Swords hammered its small frame, sparks screeching like teeth; the sound splintered until it rasped like broken glass.

Nana surged, gathering all remaining Spirit Energy into a shell, a pale flame wrapping her and Blue Magpie.

She sprinted for the cave, feet beating like hooves, but the swords turned like swarming birds and chased with hungry beaks.

The System flailed, overwhelmed, hands swatting at a storm; even it couldn’t stem this river.

Bzzz-bzzz-bzzz—

The pressure thickened like tar; Nana’s chest tightened like a vice, and her vision blurred like fogged glass.

Blood loss and Spirit drain gnawed together, twin wolves eating the light at the edge of her sight.

Am I going to die again in this damned fantasy plane? The thought bit like frost along her spine.

The cave still sat a few breaths away, a dark mouth promising shelter like a cliffside shrine.

She clenched her teeth, then ignited resolve like dry tinder; Spirit surged, wild as a prairie fire.

She triggered a boon she’d honed for three months, a soul-burn that spiked power like a comet’s flare.

It could be canceled at will, handy as a hidden blade, but each use chewed at her foundation like acid.

She’d saved it as a card against the Protagonist Lord, a last arrow in the quiver, but now necessity roared like a beast.

Savage aura burst from her body like steam from a cracked cauldron, and her eyes cleared like rain-washed glass.

One arm wrapped Blue Magpie, a shield like a wing; the other swung her Black Great Axe, wide as a falling star.

She dashed into the cave like a streak of light, feet carving swirls in dust like wind-written script.

“Uh—” The technique stuttered like a choked flame; her face went pale as ash.

Pain stabbed her mind like ten thousand silver needles, a storm of pricks beating like hail on bare skin.

A heartbeat later, darkness took her, and she collapsed within the cave like a felled pine.