The meaning behind the Sealed Land was unknown even to Litian, and Ouyang knew even less. Those things lay beyond his horizon; right now, he had to verify what White Cat said about the Little Overlord.

They stepped into the Sealed Land. Before Ouyang sensed anything amiss, White Cat claimed it had felt the Little Overlord’s aura again. Litian said nothing; it floated like a still lantern in the air, probing for what the eye couldn’t catch.

After a long while, Litian seemed to seize a thread.

“I remember!”

Remember? Hope flared in Ouyang like a spark in dry grass. Could the legendary Sky-Day Dragon have never reached the First Universe, but slept here in the Sealed Land?

If so, Ouyang’s side would gain a thunderous ally.

“I finally remember. Back then, the Little Overlord left a nest in the Sealed Land. It treated that nest as a secret base, stuffing everything into it…”

Dragons, especially great wyrms, hoard by nature; from what Litian said, the Little Overlord was no exception.

“As for the aura, it likely points to what the Little Overlord left behind.”

Litian’s words shattered Ouyang’s bright daydream like thin glass. “But if that’s true, why didn’t I notice before?” Confusion gnawed at him like a cold wind; the tale didn’t add up.

“Whether it adds up or not, let’s find the lair first. Once we’re there, it’ll clear.”

Litian shot ahead, keen as a hawk, plainly intrigued by the hoard in the Little Overlord’s lair. Fair enough—like that crow once praised in song, the Overlord had basked in hymns; would its collection be simple?

At that thought, Ouyang understood Litian’s sudden urgency. So that calm façade hid a desire to pocket the treasure.

Ouyang chased hard. White Cat could sense the trail, but tailing Litian felt right. Who knew what traps the Overlord had set around its base? With Litian in front, following meant fewer graves.

They ran through turns and shadowed halls. Ouyang felt strange auras drift like ghosts, appearing and vanishing, their fleeting breath coiled like a storm about to break.

Yet with Litian leading, those presences kept away, watching from far like wolves beyond the firelight.

They came upon a cave. The opening was rough as a scar, yet an extraordinary breath pressed out, high and cold. At the entrance sat a man—or rather, a corpse.

The body was massive, a burly man in golden armor. In his right hand he gripped a greatsword. The blade bit the earth; his left hand pressed his heart. The dried, dark-red blood made Ouyang’s chest tighten like a drum.

“A… Gold Saint?”

He was only joking.

The giant had long been dead. Though his left hand covered his chest, it couldn’t hide the wound; at the heart, there was a hollow void. He held the posture of his last breath, eyes glaring forward, right-hand sword ready to cleave an enemy in two.

“Something’s wrong.”

Litian’s voice fell like dusk. “The Sky-Day Dragon loved hoarding treasures, most of them in its nest here in the Sealed Land. Because of that, it left a strong guardian here.”

A strong one?!

Ouyang felt it too. Though the man had died, the terror in his aura lingered like winter frost, untouched by years. The man before them was a Primordial Deity.

Such beings don’t truly fall, even with hearts pierced and bodies turned to ash. Yet this one had fallen. The strike that punched through his heart didn’t just shatter flesh; it erased his soul like a candle snuffed by wind. And there were no battle scars at that level. Which meant the deity was killed in one breath.

Ouyang swallowed. He stepped closer. The nearer he walked, the heavier the pressure weighed on his shoulders, like mountains settling. Still, he gritted his teeth and went on. He stopped before the man and reached out to close those ferocious eyes.

The long cave stretched like a throat. Gemstones paved the path, scattering seven-colored light that never slept.

“Litian, what did the Sky-Day Dragon hide here? For a Primordial Deity to be felled without a chance to resist, only a Tiered Being fits. And whatever draws a Tiered Being’s gaze won’t be simple.”

Ouyang followed Litian. The deeper they went, the more this lair felt unearthly. Then he exhaled; of course—this was a Tiered Being’s lair.

Farther in, seven-colored glazed tiles studded the ceiling, crystals floored the path, and jewels crowded the walls like a frozen rainbow.

He didn’t know how long they walked. The tunnel widened, and ahead, a vast cavern opened like a sky.

“Litian, the Sky-Day Dragon’s vault… did we really reach it with no risk?” Ouyang’s gut twisted. This was a Tiered Being’s lair. Why had they met no danger? Even ordinary dragons rim their nests with arrays like thorn and fire. And this was the Sky-Day Dragon’s lair.

“Litian?”

“White Cat?”

Silence pooled. Ouyang stopped at the threshold, and his feet refused to step in. Only then did he notice—White Cat had vanished, and Litian ahead had halted in a way that felt wrong, like a clock with its heart pulled out.

“You go in first. I’ll find the cat.” After a long moment, Litian spoke, slow as fog.

For no reason, Ouyang’s hand trembled. He pressed it down with the other, steadying his breath. “Litian, do you know Luo’s full name?” He was about to step into the cavern, but turned and asked, with a bitter smile.

A sword hung in the air.

“Know… don’t know… does it matter? You don’t have a choice.” The Divine Sword blurred like smoke, twisted, then took the form of a black-haired man.

“Walk forward. For Jiling’s sake, you can choose to die. But if you stay or step back, I’ll act.”

Ouyang’s face held only helplessness. He finally understood. From the instant “Litian” appeared in the Sealed Land, it had been a fake. Perhaps the acting was too good. Perhaps his awareness was too dull. Either way, he’d been played all the way. If not for the wrongness of the cavern ahead, he’d still be in the dark.

“Jiling…”

Ouyang sighed. Those traitors had wanted him dead for a long time. He didn’t know the black-haired man, but he was someone who could erase him in a blink. For Jiling’s sake, the man hadn’t struck yet, only forced him into that strange cave.

No choice… The Boundless Sea’s “revival” wasn’t almighty. If a Tiered Being acted, Ouyang wouldn’t revive. The black-haired man had slipped in without a sound, evading the Source World’s warding like mist. Even Kanofia and the Moon Goddess hadn’t reacted at once. That said enough about his might.

Ouyang wasted no words. He stepped into the vast cavern.

In an instant, everything changed. The cave studded with glazed tiles and gems peeled away into pure void. A dragon blazed into view, light pouring from every scale. The silence had no end; the dragon’s size dwarfed all beings Ouyang had ever seen. He guessed a single eye was as large as the planet in the Source World.

“Li… Little Overlord?”

On reflex, the moment he saw the dragon, he knew who it was.

The Sky-Day Dragon, Flais.

“Boy, you know me?” A claw the size of a star tightened, ready to crush Ouyang like dry leaves. But hearing his words, it paused. The huge pupils fixed on him, weighing him; the slightest wrong note, and the strike would fall.

“I do.” Ouyang didn’t dare say otherwise, though he’d never met the Sky-Day Dragon before. “You’re the Sky-Day Dragon called the Little Overlord. A walking disaster of the Other Shore. You scrounge meals and never pay. You whip your tail, level buildings, and never explain. From Tiered Beings to green mortal newbies, everyone knows your name.”

The words spilled out of him like a drumbeat. Strange—how had they rolled off his tongue so smoothly? As if someone had once told him long ago.

“Interesting.”

The dragon shrank fast. In seconds, that endless bulk became a small dragon a few meters long.

“Through long ages, many beings barged in here. Those who didn’t recognize me died. Those who did also died. You were supposed to die too, but your answer was different. I find you amusing.”

Ouyang patted his chest, heart still pounding. Good thing he’d blurted that out. But where had he heard it?

“Little Overlord, do you remember Ivica Francis? Ivica Francis.” Ouyang felt something off about the Sky-Day Dragon and tried a probe. The dragon slowly shook its head.

“Sorry. I have no memories of my past. What you see is a remnant will my body left behind. Those people, those stories, have drifted away. I exist only to guard the hoard my body left.”

The dragon’s voice carried weight and fog, making Ouyang think of Little Night—the tiny spirit who kept watch over the Boundless Sea, year after year. The dragon and Little Night were alike, both bound to ancient promises, keeping a vigil with their whole lives.