"Ta-Tangxue... it's so cold..." Snow Orchid stood beside me, shivering as Qingsheng Tangxue's aura bit like a winter gust.

I felt something wrong and pulled back the magic that had spilled like a storm tide. "Uh... I went overboard. Snow Orchid, you okay?"

"St-still... okay..." Her voice fluttered like a torn leaf in the wind.

Guilt weighed like a stone on my chest. "Snow Orchid, something meddled with me. I let my magic surge like a flood and lost control."

"Mhm..." She nodded, slow as a falling feather.

"Snow Orchid, your body seems off. Are you alright?" She hugged her arms like a small bird guarding its wings.

"St-still fine... just cold... a little rest will do... Achoo!" The sneeze popped like a startled sparrow.

"..."

I stepped in and wrapped her trembling frame, arms closing like a warm cloak.

My body held heat like a hearth, untouched by the knifing air. If I held her, warmth would bloom like a small fire.

"Tang... xue..." In my arms, Snow Orchid froze, words breaking like thin ice.

"Warmer now?"

"Mhm..." My hands tightened a bit, drawing her close like pulling a shawl snug.

"Hey... you two, that's over the line." Qianya, busy culling Goblins like weeds, snapped like a whip when she saw us.

"Ah—right, Goblins first..."

"Yeah, yeah!"

Caught mid-flirt, we put on straight faces and went to work, chasing fleeing Goblins like wolves after scattered sheep to dodge Qianya’s scolding.

Afterward.

"You two... way too much! I was out there beating Goblins, and you... you were there—" Qianya flushed, red spilling like sunset, and stopped.

"By the way, why did Tangxue turn like that earlier? It felt scary..." Snow Orchid slid the topic aside like a cat skirting a puddle.

"I... I don't know." I lowered my head like a willow bowing. "I was furious, a wildfire kind. A voice suddenly rang in my skull, saying these Goblins came to provoke us. Then I snapped and unleashed something way beyond my level, like thunder breaking loose."

"This... that should be a Divine Aspect, right?"

"Divine Aspect... maybe." It couldn’t be; that state stays cool as moonlight, not molten with rage. But I agreed, thorns of suspicion better clipped.

"True... with a Divine Aspect, control over magic jumps a tier," Qianya mused, weighing words like coins. "But if it was, the power felt too big."

"Who knows. Maybe I was just that angry..." I scratched my nape, sheepish as a caught fox, and let the red cloud drift.

"This..."

"What’s that? There’s... a cry for help?!"

"It’s a woman. From the sound, she’s running, feet scattering like rain."

"Let’s go, quick! Feels like she’s heading our way."

"Mm!"

In the pitch-black cave, a woman’s hoarse screams echoed like ravens, and a horde of Goblins swarmed behind her like locusts.

Everything had been calm like a still pond. Last night, Goblins flooded her village and began burning, killing, and looting— a slap that woke sleeping souls.

Despair spread like fog over the rooftops, and if adventurers hadn’t arrived with torch-bright steel, the village might’ve vanished by dawn.

Even so, some women were seized like scattered petals, and academy students couldn’t peel off to rescue anyone.

Puxiao was one of the unlucky. When they grabbed her, hope guttered like a candle; they dragged her like cargo, jammed her into a burlap sack.

Through a torn seam, she watched them haul her from dirt to cliff-edge. Then they dragged her into an ink-black cave, the world closing like a lid.

Her heart went numb, winter-hard, until the Goblins started tripping over themselves, like intruders had slipped into the nest.

Are the adventurers here to save us? I have to catch a crack of light and reach them. Live through this—maybe even pull others out.

I have to get out, a spark striking flint.

Steel in place, Puxiao readied herself, gripping her only weapon—a small knife that felt like a thorn.

Around her, noise broke into shards; some women were already being defiled, pleas and vile shouts sawing at her nerves like frayed strings.

She was afraid, cold water up to the throat, afraid she’d be next. But panic would drown her; a crafted chance could save a few lives.

So she waited for an opening, crouched like a cat at the reeds, watching for that one gap to flash.