The diary was all smiles, like a cat purring in the sun, because Ouyang had done something that made hearts cheer. Ouyang grinned too, like a fox stealing moonlight, because Diary Bro didn’t give him grief; seeing the diary so pleased, maybe he’d toss him an artifact on a whim.
They laughed, heedless as wind through reeds, until Li’s single line poured a basin of cold water over their heads. “When His Grace, the God Emperor, returns, you two will be pitched into a black hole!”
The diary’s laughter cut short like a snapped string. Ouyang’s face iced over like a winter lake. He finally saw why the diary was so cheerful: the diary hadn’t dared, Ouyang had, and the blame got strapped to his back like a wet cloak.
The diary drifted in the air, swaying like a lazy lantern. “Kid, what are you worried about? I should be. You’ve got someone covering you, like a mountain at your back; my shameless master will leave me to drown. Damn, why did I get handsy back then?”
Covered? In Ouyang’s memory, he’d never hugged the thigh of any deity; who would cover him? Ouyang frowned, doubt pooling like still water. The diary muttered, fogging the air. “That Grace… forget it, you don’t need to know now. Either way, you’re covered.”
Grace?
Ouyang narrowed his eyes, thoughts circling like crows. In his world, only three rated “His Grace” or “Her Grace.” First, His Grace, the God Emperor. Second, His Grace, the Dominator. Third, Her Grace, the First Imperial Princess. Maybe there were one or two more in the dark. Not many.
So which Grace shaded him like a hidden tree?
He was still thinking when Li cut him off like a blade. “We need your help.”
“Help?” Two beings at least Primordial Deity level asking him? What could he do?
Li spoke clear and spare, like ice ringing. “Help us resurrect a progenitor of the Blood Kin. She’s an Ancient Breed, alive since the First Epoch.”
Her words were clean as polished jade. From start to finish, Ouyang never saw a ripple of feeling on her face; she was a porcelain doll, exquisite and still.
“You don’t have a way? If even you two don’t, what could I possibly do?” His doubt rose first, a tide in his chest, then spilled into words.
“Your blood.” Li’s answer fell like snow. “Once, you became nothingness, so your blood can thread the void and draw her soul from the river of time.”
The diary picked up, light flaring like a match. “As for why we’re not doing it… you know. The ones above are watching.” A hand of light formed at his left and pointed skyward. Ouyang understood: above meant the Supreme Law. “Second reason, my master and that progenitor didn’t get along. If she sees us, she’ll settle accounts.”
“Settle accounts?” Ouyang’s brows pinched like tightened strings. “What did your master do?”
“Old sins, best buried,” the diary said, voice weathered like driftwood. “By our calculus, her soul’s split in two; one piece deep in the void, one on this continent. That piece likely reincarnated. Just let the vessel drink your blood; then her soul can be whole.”
A silver compass appeared in Li’s hand, its needle spinning like a restless swallow. “Follow the needle, and you’ll find her.” She passed it to Ouyang and turned, ready to leave like mist withdrawing.
Ouyang watched two great ones about to walk away, and resentment pricked like thorns. He was helping; they should at least give him a boon, an artifact, a spark. He blurted, chasing luck like a boy chasing fireflies. “Uh… hey, beauty, that pendant on your chest is gorgeous. Can you give it to me? I’m working so hard for you…”
The flawless girl halted mid-step, still as a statue. The diary flicked aside like a startled fish.
Silence stretched, thin as silk. Ouyang felt he’d stepped wrong, stomach sinking like a stone. Silver starlight floated around Li, cold and fine, drifting like frost on night leaves. She turned back, killing intent sharp as a blade, fixing him like a nail.
What’s happening? Panic surged first, a drumbeat in his ribs, then words stumbled. He only wanted a perk—was that so hard?
“Say that again next time…” Li didn’t finish. She stepped into the black hole ahead, bare feet vanishing like petals into night. The last half stayed unsaid, but Ouyang heard it clear. Say it again, and he was done.
Sweat rolled down his forehead like rain off stone. The diary’s voice floated, sly and thin. “Kid, you’ve got guts. That pendant is her body. Asking for it is basically… heh.”
Her body? That pendant, shedding star-glow, was her true form. Only then did Ouyang remember: if the diary fought to call her big sister, Li wasn’t human. But her beauty was a mirage that made him forget, a reflex to forget.
“Phew. Not being dumped back into the Boundless Sea is luck within bad luck.” Now he understood his line meant, “Beauty, give yourself to me.”
He wiped sweat with his sleeve, breath steadying like a lantern shielded by a hand. In that instant of Li’s anger, the pressure was worse than when he faced Demon Lord Safix.
“Alright, kid. The resurrection’s on you.” The diary winged into the black hole like a page caught by wind.
Ouyang stopped him with a last question, urgency like a hook. “Diary Bro, what’s that progenitor’s name?” A Blood Kin progenitor, an Ancient Breed—he should’ve heard it. Know the name, maybe you can cozy up. In these times, you stick close to big shots; going solo is a dead road.
Just before the hole sealed, the diary’s voice drifted back like an echo over water. “Her name is Kanofia…”
“Kanofia?” Familiarity flicked in Ouyang’s mind like a half-remembered tune. He didn’t dig. If she was Ancient Breed, hearing legends was normal.
He held the compass. The needle pointed north, a thin arrow of ice. “Looks like I’m heading straight north…”
Before he marched, he took out Cole’s soul. Some things needed clarity, clouds parted by sun.
A gray light-sphere rested on his palm like a captive moon. With a whoosh, it tried to bolt. Ouyang moved quick; a light shield snapped shut, trapping Cole’s soul like a bell over a flame.
“Kid, how about we talk life?”
“Hmph. I won’t yield. Ask anything. Whatever I know, I’ll spill.”
At first, Ouyang kept a straight face, calm as stone; then a twitch tugged his cheek. This bull king said he wouldn’t yield, then promised to tell all. What logic was that?
“Who were you fighting earlier?”
“A stone man.”
A stone man? Doubt pricked like needles. A stone man wrecked you that hard? “Spell it out. What happened?”
Cole fell silent, gathering words like scattered grain. “I was just passing by. The stone man rushed me out of nowhere, said I reeked of the Night Clan. It was weird. Its power wasn’t god-tier, but I couldn’t beat it. Every strike broke my rhythm, like a master who’d honed combat skill to the peak.
“Then a sword flew in—a passing blade, or so it looked. For no reason, it joined in and cut at me. It also said I carried Night Clan scent. I don’t even know what the Night Clan is.
“Just when I thought I’d fall, the sword and the stone man started fighting each other. No clue why they turned. They brawled farther and farther away. In the end, the stone man said his brother would finish me. Then I met you. I figured you were the brother.”
Ouyang listened and felt a deep ache, cold as biting ice. This guy’s luck was miserable. Still, those who hated the Night Clan most sat on the Other Shore. Tie that to the sword, and suspicion rose like mist.
A projection of a sword bloomed above his other hand, forged from memory, mist shaping steel. “Did the blade look like this?”
“Exactly! How do you know… You’re with them, aren’t you?”
With Cole’s confirmation, Ouyang’s gut twinged again, a wire pulled taut. Had the Divine Sword’s spirit awakened? And the stone man dared trade blows with the longsword once wielded by the God Emperor. What kind of origin was that stone man?
Chaotic times call for low profiles, lanterns shaded by sleeves. If he peacocks, that sword and that stone could show up and beat him senseless. And if a Divine Sword and a stone man are already roughing up kids, more things will crawl out later. He guessed that beyond the Door, those restless ones had ways to meddle with the order here.
