“Phew... guess that wraps it.” Xuewei dusted her palms, glanced at the troll of a brute lying like a toppled boulder, then stowed the Iceflame Spear, its frost like banked embers.

Honestly, it hadn’t helped at all, like fireworks in rain.

If I’d really poked it, one thrust might’ve killed it, like a sparrow felled by a pebble.

“This should be fine now, right...?” My breath thinned like mist, and caution coiled like a cat.

Time rolled back to before Xuewei went underground, like a river rewinding to its source.

“Gods, this is... this is—pull!” I planted my feet and heaved, grunting heave-ho, as the earth clung like old roots to bone.

“Tangxue, what even is this...” Snow Orchid’s voice fluttered like reeds in a breeze.

“This is... I don’t get it either,” I said, doubt circling like moths around a lamp.

“Seriously, Tangxue—if you don’t know, why act mysterious, like fog hiding a hill?”

“Scepter of Mourning...” The words slipped out unbidden, like a name drawn from a deep well.

The strange thing flared white, and a lance of light shot at me like a comet across night.

It didn’t feel hostile, calm as moonlight, yet instinct yanked me back like a deer from a bowstring.

The light missed its grip and lunged again, faster than a hawk’s dive, and I couldn’t risk a dodge with Snow Orchid beside me like a lily by the bank.

At the instant it struck, an ice-blue halo blossomed off my skin, rippling like frozen water, and it slapped the white radiance away.

The scattered light quivered to the side, shivering like a child scolded in winter wind.

After a few circling flits, it darted toward Snow Orchid like a homing firefly.

‘I remember now! That white glow is the artifact spirit of a Sacred Relic. And what bounced it... that was Frostwhisper.’

“Ugh, my head hurts,” Snow Orchid whispered, pain pooling like rain in a bowl. “Tangxue, why does it suddenly feel so heavy, like a stone on my crown?”

I crouched and studied the half-buried, misshapen bow, its curve like a crescent fossil. “It’s fine, Snow Orchid. You’re not hurt; the bow just acknowledged you as its master, like a swan choosing a hand.”

“Huh? Master?” Her cheeks flushed like peach blossoms warmed by spring.

“I mean... this Sacred Relic, the Scepter of Mourning, has recognized you,” I said, voice soft as falling snow.

“S-sacred... relic?” Snow Orchid gaped, like a corpse sitting bolt upright under thunder.

“Yeah. A Sacred Relic. I think what’s buried here is the Scepter of Mourning, one of the continent’s twenty-four Sacred Relics of legend, like fixed stars on an old chart.”

“I don’t know why it got buried here, like a sword lost under drifting dunes. But since it chose you, it’s yours now, clear as moonlight on water.”

This Sacred Relic—once a true Divine Artifact—has had most of its mind worn away, like a bell thinned by storms.

Its artifact spirit acts on instinct, more tool than will, like a tide following the moon.

So it won’t endanger Snow Orchid, gentle as a tethered colt at a post.

“But... I... Tangxue, this should’ve been yours...” Her guilt trembled like a reed in rain.

“Hush.” I stepped in and covered her mouth with my sleeve, silk cool as shade. “It chose you, so it’s your fate, like a flower finding its spring. If you feel bad for me... how about you handle my room’s cleaning, like a breeze sweeping dust?”

“Tangxue...” Her voice warmed like tea in cupped hands.

“No need to say anything; let it settle like falling ash. Look—we tugged at that bow forever and got nothing, like fishing an empty lake. The moment it chose you, it turned into a ring and slipped onto your hand, quick as a carp’s turn.”

“Tangxue...” Her eyes shimmered like ripples.

“Hm? What is it, like a fish tugging the line?”

“No, Tangxue... look behind you,” she breathed, cold as dawn dew.

I turned, slow as a weathercock in a lull.

“...?” Why’s water bubbling up, like springs pricking the sand?

“...Wait. Water?” The word rang through me like a bell under ice.

In a breath, a fierce familiarity washed over me, warm as a hometown wind.

So this place was... a dried great river, now stirring again like a dragon waking beneath the banks!