“So, that Sky‑Shrouding Veil—how many points?” A twinge of thrift pinched Nana Toki; she counted clouds like coins and figured she had a bit over two hundred.

“Hrm. Not that pricey. Two hundred points per hour.” The System’s voice drifted dry, like dust over a jar lid.

“What? Two hundred points an hour?” Her temper flared like sparks in dry grass; she nearly hurled the useless System into the void.

“This can’t be helped, Host. You know its effect—unbreakable to anyone below True‑Form. Two hundred per hour is already fair.” The System sighed like a leaky bellows. “And prices in the points shop are set by my owner. Even if I wanted to give you a discount, I can’t.”

“...” Useless, through and through.

Jaw tight, Nana Toki flicked a glance at the distant Heavenswallow Serpent, still bracing like a storm‑bent tree. She gnawed the decision for a few breaths, then slammed it down. “Fine. I’ll buy! Get that snake out of there.” If the hidden quest doesn’t pop, I’ll wring your neck.

…

Meanwhile, in the forested ravine by the big stone, wind scraped leaves like knives and ash‑green mist coiled low.

A white‑robed cultivator hung in the air and thrust a hand seal downward. In a heartbeat, his seal blossomed into ten thousand Buddha palms, a storm of Spirit Energy clawing heaven. Even thousand‑fathom mountains looked like brittle clay at his gesture.

“Hold a little longer! This serpent’s about to break!” His voice cut like a shrine bell through fog.

Boom—! The myriad palms slammed into the Heavenswallow Serpent’s massive body. The ground bucked like a sea in storm; sonic booms rolled in waves; cracks spider‑webbed across dirt and stone. As earth split with a steel‑bright screech, the serpent’s seven‑colored scales dulled like wet embers, and its sky‑piercing demonic aura shattered into drifting scraps; even its breathing ran ragged, like torn silk.

“Truly worthy of a seven‑colored Heavenswallow bloodline. Even gravely wounded at the Void Hollow stage, it wrestles this long with several ascended disciples of Immortal sects. If it ever reaches nine colors, above True‑Form, no one could match it…”

They didn’t pause. White sleeves flared like winter birds; seals and palms kept hammering toward the serpent coiled at the center.

ROAR—! The Heavenswallow Serpent, pressed to earth like a mountain under chains, tensed to burn its soul and die fighting.

Then, without warning, a sheet of milk‑white silk unfurled around it like full moonlight, vast enough to blot sky and sun. It descended in a hush, and the world held its breath.

“What is that?” Their savage Spirit Energy, heavy with Immortal might, crashed into the gossamer veil—then vanished, silent as snow melting on stone. Not even a ripple in the air arose; the ravine turned still as a held note.

Faces darkened around the veil. Several cultivators floated closer, eyes narrow, and poured Spirit Energy into strike after strike. Every blast hit the silk that wrapped the Heavenswallow Serpent—and every blast disappeared, swallowed like rain into white sand.

“What’s going on?” The white‑robed man who’d cast the ten thousand palms stared, voice frost‑cold. “What is that white cloth? How does it shrug off us without a scratch?”

“Uh…” Eyes traded blank looks like lost lanterns. No one knew how that eerie silk had slipped into the world without sound.

Inside the white silk, the weakened Heavenswallow Serpent coiled, both alarmed and enraged. A treasure that could seize it in an instant was no mortal trinket. Had another force sensed the Azure Crow Fairy’s Spirit Energy?

“Who’s there!”

The instant Nana Toki and her group stepped through the veil and peeled off a yellow talisman, seven colossal serpent heads snapped toward them, pupils tightening like storm eyes.

Caught under that sudden, seven‑fold stare, even Nana Toki—who’d weathered planes and tempests with a System at her hip—felt her heart kick like a startled deer.

“How is that Foundation Establishment?” The serpent tasted her Spirit Energy, a flicker of doubt glinting in each eye before ice settled back. Seven pairs of brutal serpent eyes locked unblinking on Nana Toki and her companions. “Who are you?”

And what is this treasure?

It had lived millennia, an old monster hard as ironwood roots, yet never this exact knot. Instinct pricked; vigilance flooded its gaze like night rain.

Nana Toki’s skin crawled under that stare. She didn’t drag it out. She stated her purpose plain, voice steady as a lantern in wind.

The serpent listened, its heads still as carved jade. The heaviness on its brow didn’t lift; if anything, wariness thickened like smoke.

“So this strange white cloth—yours?”

“Yeah.” Nana Toki nodded, simple as a pebble dropping in a stream.

“Then what do you want?” The serpent’s gaze stayed sharp, a blade wrapped in scales. Right now, the whole world felt like enemies; kindness without reason sounded like a trap.

“Not much. I want to ask you something.” Once she got used to its stare, Nana Toki’s face lost that stiff caution. Her eyes traced the serpent’s wounds, while her mind already spun a different, worse thread.

“How much do you know about the Three Realms turmoil five thousand years ago?”

Boom—! Her words were flint to powder. In a blink, the serpent’s seven immense heads surrounded them, a wall of fangs and shadow. Its attention fixed on Nana Toki like a vise; its demonic aura surged, ready to grind her to dust. “How does a mortal‑world child know that?” Back then, the mortal world kept no record at all.

Where did a Foundation Establishment brat learn this?

“Hey—hey, don’t get so tense. I’m just asking.” Nana Toki stretched a calming smile like sunlight over frost. Her restless hands, though, snagged Blue Magpie from behind her and tugged her forward. “Anyway—this one. You recognize her?”

“...” Like a punctured bladder, the suffocating aura around Nana Toki blew away in an instant. The seven serpent faces flinched, shock carving deep lines; disbelief flooded heavier than rain. “M‑Miss… how are you here?”

“Ah… I knew it’d be that kind of melodrama.” Nana Toki rolled her eyes so hard the valley wind could’ve carried them off.

She’d never bought that her little sister was just an ordinary ditz. A self‑cycling meridian pattern that ran Spirit Energy on its own wasn’t something common folk had. Seeing this, well—figures.

Blue Magpie’s former life was the Azure Crow Fairy of the Immortal Realm.

Even after confirming it, Nana Toki’s heart barely rippled; she’d seen this soap‑bubble of a twist too many times.

In the Immortal Realm, cultivation hardly needs saying. People were born ascended; one step up, you refine the True‑Form and become truly immortal. Spirit Energy there pools like spring lakes; if a cultivator is patient, even the dullest stone can polish into jade over time.

And once they all ascend—what then? With endless years unrolling like river silk, romance becomes the pastime of rain and moon.

Nana Toki dared a bold guess. The Emperor Immortal lusted after the Azure Crow Fairy. She didn’t want him. She slipped away on a “training journey,” trying to shake his shadow. Then she fell for someone in the mortal world or the demonic realm. The Emperor raged.

But this was a matter between man and woman, not fit for court or scroll. So he worked in darkness, sending people to seize her and lock her back in the Immortal Realm. The Azure Crow Fairy was steel‑spined; she refused to abandon her love. At last, they died together before the Emperor’s eyes.

Only a soul‑embryo remained.

Of course—

This was just Nana Toki’s wild headcanon; truth would have to come from the Heavenswallow Serpent.

System: “...Why does your headcanon template feel like a modern love triangle wearing cultivation robes?”

Nana Toki: “Be confident. Cut the doubt.”

“So, now—can you tell me about the Three Realms turmoil five thousand years ago?” Nana Toki never blinked, her gaze fixed on the serpent as Blue Magpie blinked dully beside her. She smoothly drew Blue Magpie back behind her. “This matters to me. I might even help you.”

“Help me? You, a mere body‑refining Foundation Establishment?” The serpent’s tone held a curl of mockery, like a cold breeze over bare stone—yet softer than before. “Your foes aren’t the ascended juniors outside. They’re the Immortal and Demonic Realms. Do you understand?”

“I don’t hope for much anymore,” it murmured, and the valley seemed older. “If Miss can live safe, carefree, that’s best.” Its gaze toward Blue Magpie carried a deep, steady love—not the fever of romance, but a bond like an ancient oath.

“So you’re saying Blue Magpie becoming a happy idiot, unable to learn any techniques—that’s deliberate, your doing?” Nana Toki’s eyes sparked; she’d found the seam.