“What’s that…” Tangxue tilted her head, puzzled, her gaze arrowing toward a point like a drawn bow.

“That’s our only hope of getting out of this hell, a lone torch in a pit.”

In the direction she looked, a strange Beastkin man slowly pulled off his hood, a flippant smile slick as oil spreading across his face.

“Long time no see. What should I call you…?” His voice drifted like smoke.

“Qingsheng Tangxue.” Her name fell like frost on stone.

“Oh, right—Qingsheng Tangxue.” The man in the bull mask dipped his head, then sighed, his tone as lazy as a summer fly. “That god was useless—didn’t even burn through half your stamina, yet his name boomed like a drum. What a paltry god.”

The other Beastkin bristled, anger rising like nettles, yet the memory of death pressing from their so‑called god weighed like a shadowed altar. Was that truly the god they prayed to, the beacon for the Beastkin?

“Hahaha! Don’t look at me like that.” He spread his hands, mock-friendly as a winter sun. “I’m Beastkin too, through and through, but the god’s display was embarrassing. Such weak power can’t make anyone cling like ivy, right, Miss Tangxue?”

His teasing voice skimmed the air like a skipping stone, but the tension stayed taut as a bowstring.

From that stranger, Qingsheng Tangxue felt a threat coil like a cold serpent—less than the God of Heart Realm, yet still iron beneath velvet.

“Why keep staring at me? Could Miss Tangxue be interested in yours truly?” His chuckle rang tinny, like coins.

Tangxue shot him a look sharp as sleet. “You sat back to net the catch, didn’t you? You lured him here to profit.”

“No, no… I wouldn’t say I just sat and waited,” he said, easy as drifting fog. “I only wanted to use your hand to cut off a hidden thorn. After all, an elder in our group keeps chanting about it.”

“…”

Is it that one? Dreamsound’s kin… Her thought rippled like a stone in a pond.

“Seems you’ve known all along.” The bull-mask man chuckled, the sound dry as husk. He took a step back like a tide drawing away. “I got what I came for. Until next time?”

Tangxue didn’t answer. Hard frost crawled along the ground like creeping ivy, spreading to his boots.

“You think this is a place you come and go like the wind?” Her voice fell like hail.

“What else?” He cocked his head, casual as drifting snow.

“Everything has a price,” she said, the words cold as iron.

“What did I do—watch the show?” The bull-mask man’s eyes glittered, amused as a cat with yarn. “You don’t think I brought the God of Heart Realm, do you?”

“I only pointed you here so you’d cut a knot for me. And from where I’m standing, you were happy to swing the blade, weren’t you?”

Tangxue went quiet, her expression wavering like water under wind.

“Wait!”

“What now?” He looked back, impatience snapping like a twig.

“What did you mean by ‘savior’?”

“Did I say that?” He tilted his head, curiosity light as a bird.

“The Grey Calamity—Minge Liusi!” Her voice cracked the air like ice.

“Oh, that.” He smiled, secretive as a closed fan. “You’ll meet Him again soon. Minge Liusi is the ultimate target of our Flower of the Other Shore. That’s a true god.”

“Look forward to it, Miss Tangxue.” His farewell floated like ash.

“Hold it.”

“…?” He turned back slowly, anger simmering like banked coals.

“What price do you pay to summon Minge Liusi?”

At that title, dread throbbed in Tangxue’s chest like a storm drum. Whatever it was, it reeked of ruin.

“…The whole world,” he said, casual as tossing a pebble into a well.

“You plan to destroy this world?” Her words cut like a knife of ice.

“More or less.” The bull-mask man smiled, indifferent as a cloudbank. “It isn’t worth keeping. In a few years, everyone’s dead anyway.”

Qingsheng Tangxue fell silent, resolve sharpening in her eyes like winter stars. “I won’t let you succeed.”

“If you can, come try,” he purred, light as silk. “Oh, and before I leave, a parting gift.” He glanced at her, voice low as root-work. “Do you know what’s hidden inside the World Tree? Its branches and leaves don’t just keep the world steady. Heh…”

Suddenly, the earth beneath the Elven Dominion shuddered, a drumbeat of tremors rolling like thunder. An ancient seal slackened like moth-eaten rope, and the World Tree, long unmoving, swayed for the first time like a giant waking.

Hualuo Jingqing stared, disbelief blazing into fury like a flash of lightning. “What did you do!?”

“I only undid the Beastkin half of the seal,” he sang, sweet as poison. “Hualuo Jingqing, I watched you grow into the leader of the Elf Clan, heh.”

“Laugh at yourself, why don’t you.” Tangxue’s patience snapped like ice.

With a whoosh, an ice lance laced with sword‑qi screamed across the air and, in a silver slash, ripped through that infuriating bull mask.

She’d had enough of him long ago; now he’d handed her a reason, and her fists were snowstorms eager to fall.

The bull-mask man touched the cracked mask and the streak of blood, then, with a weary sigh like falling leaves, took it off—revealing another bull mask beneath.

“Confident, aren’t you, Miss Tangxue?” His voice was velvet over thorns. “You think you can handle me while that thing stirs underground?”

“Aren’t you worried about the Elven Dominion?” he added, sly as a shadow.

Tangxue glanced at the ground, the tremors rising like a boiling sea. She clicked her tongue, a hard note like flint, and let the chase go—for now.

“That’s more like it.” He grinned, smug as a cat in cream. At the threshold, he waved farewell like drifting willow. “Goodbye, Miss Tangxue. I hope you’re stronger next time… hahahaha!”

“…”

“Old one, what’s sealed under the Elven Dominion?” Tangxue’s words fell like stones.

Hualuo Jingqing’s face shifted like stormlight. She eyed the widening cracks and sighed, helpless as a leaf. “An eldritch god. It holds no Godseat and no Authority, but its power is god-tier. In the distant past, the Elf Clan and Beastkin sealed it together. It was the first god-tier monster suppressed by mortals.”

“An evil god… What’s its shape?” Tangxue’s question trembled like a plucked string.

“Serpentine.” The answer coiled like smoke.

As they spoke, the seal bucked, violent as a breaking wave. From a yawning fissure, a pair of deep-red vertical pupils stared up, chilling Tangxue’s spine like icy needles.

“Not good…” The words were a white cloud in winter air.

I don’t have the stamina to beat it head‑on, she thought, dread settling like frost. And even if I win, the Elven Dominion will shatter.

“No other way?” Her voice carried urgency like rushing water.

Hualuo Jingqing clenched her jaw, brows knotted like tangled roots. Suddenly, her eyes lit like dawn. “…The seal!”

“Where is it?” Tangxue’s reply was a drawn blade.

“Underground. Our ancestors of the Elf Clan and Beastkin forged it together. That stranger removed the Beastkin half, so it loosened. If we can patch that half, we might press it down again!”

“Alright. Leave it to me.” Tangxue nodded, calm as falling snow.

Hualuo Jingqing gave the seal’s exact location, words quick as sparrows, and the two moved, their intent hard as iron.

Qingsheng Tangxue soared into the sky, her presence towering like a mountain. She looked down at the thing below, her gaze cold as winter moons. “A monster woven purely of negative emotion…”