“Haha! Edmund! Move out—come with me, down into the Underworld.”

A cold prickle crawled up his spine before he spoke. “…Master, do you wish me dead?”

He didn’t grasp why Ling cast such a strange hook into the dark, yet if it was her command, Edmund would cut forward like a drawn blade. He only needed to check whether his ear had lied. Good thing he asked, or Ling would’ve lost a torch in her hands for no reason.

“Of course not, Edmund. We’re going to the Underworld to find someone.”

He blinked, then the light of understanding slid across his face like sunrise on steel. So Nina’s in the Underworld… then she really did pass, didn’t she?

Edmund kept silent, but Ling watched his shadowed look and felt a chill, like a cloud skimming the moon, that he was thinking something grim.

“But Ling, how do you plan to reach the Underworld? Last time, didn’t you come out through a purple door?”

Ling had nursed a guess from the moment she first saw that gate, a seed sprouting in the dark. Back then, she couldn’t be sure because some piece was missing. Now, looking again, it’s clear as lantern-light—wasn’t that a 4-by-5 Underworld portal?

It sounded absurd, like two paintings from different schools sharing one frame. Yet the stone speaks louder than doubt, and that path into the Underworld does exist.

“Sis, can we get something called obsidian?”

Alicia didn’t know why Ling leaped to that topic, but she nodded, calm as a lake at dawn. In the Empire, obsidian is an industrial byproduct; if Ling needs it, she can have Remi send some over like parcels riding the wind.

“But Ling, what do you want it for?”

She was already tapping a message, fingers fluttering like sparrow wings, and sent it to Remi. If nothing goes wrong, obsidian should arrive soon, like rain after thunderheads.

“Well… Sis, you asked how to reach the Underworld, right? You might not believe it. Obsidian will do.”

“Really? Obsidian into the Underworld… hard to swallow, like a stone in tea.”

“Ding-ling~ Milady, you’ve got a message… ding-ling~ Milady, you’ve got a message.”

On a messy bed, a pink phone buzzed like a trapped cicada, its odd ringtone chiming from the device. On that bed, a blue-haired girl slipped her hand from a golden-haired girl’s warm chest like a fish sliding from reeds, so she could grab the phone.

“Mmm~”

She lifted the phone and stretched, a cat greeting the sun, and tapped the message half-asleep.

“Remi, we need some obsidian. Please find some and send it. —Alicia”

“Eh?!”

The words jolted Remi like cold water. It wasn’t that the task was hard; it was that work was clawing at her at dawn, claws like iron. She’d burned through the night grading those cursed papers; she’d planned a day of rest, a day to play with Flan like swallows chasing each other under eaves. The plan died before it could breathe.

Grumbling flickered inside her like embers, but Alicia’s name was a banner in the wind, and Remi held her tongue.

She nudged Flan, a gentle push like a breeze nudging a bell, but when her hand met Flan’s pudding-soft skin, a tiny spark flared in Remi’s chest. Banking on Flan not waking, her fingers wandered like curious minnows, and she quietly savored breakfast—Flan’s tofu-soft delight.

“Sis, what are you doing so early again?”

That playful voice brushed her ear like silk, and Remi’s hand froze an inch from the inner thigh. A cool bead of sweat slid down her temple like dew leaving a leaf.

Watching Remi’s adorable panic, Flan sat up, tender hands cupping Remi’s cheeks like petals cradling rain, desire glimmering in her eyes like wine under lamplight.

“Is Sis thinking those kinds of thoughts again?”

Like a struck wire, Remi trembled from head to heel. “N-no, not at all! I’d never think that! Ah—right, Alicia sent a task! It’s got nothing to do with me!”

Teasing Remi was sweet as candied haw, but since it involved Alicia, Flan smoothed her voice like silk on a table. “Reading… so we’re fetching obsidian? What do they need that for?”

“Who knows… Also! Up you go. Don’t paw at your sister’s legs. As a younger sister, you can’t bully your elder like that! And your clothes—look at you; you slept and turned into a walking storm.”

After the scolding, both girls paused like two sparrows blinking. Then they shared a smile and helped each other dress, fingers neat as weavers. They rose from the bed together, stepped into the bathroom like twin cranes, washed and ate with the same utensils, matching each other like mirrored ripples on a pond.

“They say obsidian, but where do we find it? Do we punch through the crust again and hunt magma like miners chasing dragons?”

“I don’t think we need that. Too loud, too slow, too wasteful. We can search inside the Empire like gleaners in a wide field. A nation that size should cough up obsidian without much fuss.”

“But will the Empire agree? Remember, we split off and founded the Mystic Realm like a sapling leaving the grove, and many in the Empire fought it tooth and nail. Now we ask a favor, and those critics will open their lion mouths.”

“What choice do we have? Alicia said the Elvenfolk still haven’t come. Besides asking them, what path is left under this sky?”

Silence fell, soft as snow on pines, and with nothing else to say, they breathed in the quiet together.