But so what?

Under siege by a swarm of monsters, Qianya didn’t flinch; she stood like a stone in a winter river, feeling currents slow to slush. Magic crawled like syrup; even the monsters hung like flies in amber, frozen mid-leap.

"Where did your confidence come from? Did you think I’d be muzzled? We’re inside a boundary, and you still bet on luck." Her voice was a snowflake’s edge, cold and quiet. "How stupid."

The awakened Rain Moon Willow carried a shard of the Creator’s Authority, a sun hidden in ice. Even in Qianya’s hands, it rose to top-tier lord-god might, a mountain against paper tigers. These weakened eldritch gods were driftwood before a tide.

Qianya watched the monsters suspended around her, eyes calm as a winter lake. A frost dagger bloomed in her palm like a thin icicle moon. At her thought, the blade drew a graceful arc, a swan’s neck through mist, and punched through every skull.

Their bodies unraveled in the air like bubbles in dawn light. Gods can’t be killed, like stars behind clouds, yet flesh can be shattered. Without bodies, they can’t touch the mortal dust; they’re dragged back down to Abyssal Hell, like stones to the seabed.

Pale blue radiance spilled from the ice ceiling of the sky, refracting into every corner like rain in sunlight. Any fiend or false god that crawled from the abyss was scrubbed away by that glow, wiped like chalk from slate. Such a wonder felt like true divinity breathing.

After achieving her aim, the Flower of the Other Shore didn’t sweep the continent clean; a storm spares no leaf when it comes. Once the Demon God walked out, every life could end with one thought. So Qianya only culled the possessing ghosts hidden among ordinary hearts, weeds in a wheat field.

"Vecna, you’re still watching down there, aren’t you? Then keep watching—until I nail your coffin lid shut." Her tone was ash-cold. She walked to the world’s polar heart, footsteps like falling snow. The ground around her turned to ice-blue glass, a lake clear enough to see the deep crimson abyss below. No one but her could break it; an almost Absolute Zero freeze severed any path upward, like winter sealing a river for a thousand miles.

"Does any of this matter?" A cold, neutral voice drifted like fog into her mind.

"Trying to dodge a fight with me? Tricks can’t spin you the future you want. A seal? Fine. I’ll wait for the day you open it for me yourself." The voice chuckled like iron on ice, then vanished.

Qianya ignored the taunt, palm settling on the ice like a petal. "Then wait."

Only after layering ice again and again, like laying bricks of winter, did she let her breath ease. After all that, this calamity should…

"Be over, right?" The words fell like a sigh in cold air.

She meant to set a period. She turned anyway, helpless as a tide. Her gaze reached toward Tangxue far away; a thorn of worry wouldn’t leave.

The Demon God Vecna had planted a seed in Qingsheng Tangxue a hundred years ago, a root hidden in flesh, hoping to use that body as a gateway. The scheme broke like a cracked bell, yet that seed wasn’t easy to pluck.

As long as I’m beside her, that thing won’t get a sliver of a chance. The thought was steel; the doubt was smoke. But that wasn’t what it meant, was it?

When everything here ended, Qianya planned to do as she pleased, like wind off a cliff. That included leaving this world, then hunting down Dawn Sugar Snow—and decking her once, clean and simple.

To leave, she’d have to lift the ice dome overhead, remove the Authority of Absolute Zero, like opening a cage of frost. Lifting it meant facing Vecna head-on; Hell’s seal was already broken, and only Absolute Zero kept the lid on.

I still can’t control this power with a surgeon’s hand. Once I unseal it, that lunatic will bleed himself dry for a chance to break out. And the vessel waiting for his descent… Tangxue.

"Infuriating." Qianya clicked her tongue, a tiny spark on ice, and vanished from where she stood.

She unlocked part of the ice that had been throttling the world’s workings. Sunlight fell again like thin silk over earth, dimmer, but warm enough to sting the eyes.

"Is it… all over?" Tangxue lay on the ground, watching the sky’s light reappear like a shy dawn. She reached out, hand pausing like a bird mid-flight, then dropped, drained.

"Don’t move, Tangxue. You’re very weak." Qianya stepped into being behind her, shadow like a blade. After leaving the Heavenly Deity Academy, her size had settled to normal. She wasn’t much taller than Tangxue, but her presence towered like a cliff; even side by side, she never yielded.

"Mm…" Tangxue nodded with effort. She stared at Qianya, startled for a beat, then asked softly, "What should I call you?"

"Qianya. That’s my name." Qianya’s face stayed still as carved jade. Her eyes held Tangxue’s like cold stars.

"Ahaha… sorry, Qianya. I was teasing."

"Not funny." Qianya shook her head, a willow in wind, then scooped Tangxue up.

"You need rest. No more injuries until you’re steady again, especially not in the mind." Her tone was a blanket over embers.

"Then take me back. To the sea," Tangxue whispered, voice like foam.

"The Ice Palace…?" Qianya’s brow arched, a line of frost.

"The sea!"

"Are you sure?" Doubt pricked like sleet. For convalescence, the Ice Palace was the softer bed.

"I want to talk with Dreamsound and the others more. If everyone could come see me, that’d be nice…" Her wish drifted like lantern light.

"I understand." Qianya nodded gently. It seemed her thinking had been quietly bent by a certain someone, like vines guided by a trellis. Though she still remembered who she was.

A few hours earlier.

"I can help you, but I have my own conditions." The voice was calm as rain on eaves.

"You don’t need to bargain with me…" Qianya’s reply was thin, like a candle in wind.

But Rain Moon Willow pretended not to hear and went on, words steady as beads on a string. "First, once we’re out, no matter how your mind twists, you must suppress the Demon God, Vecna. That’s my mission. Second, whether my consciousness survives or not, find my elder sister—and punch her, hard."

"I’d do that even if you didn’t ask…" Qianya’s smile was a knife sheathed.

"Third, after we get out, please keep your distance from Tangxue…"

"Why?" Qianya’s face changed; displeasure creased her brow like storm ripples.

"Because she and I are mother and daughter in the truest sense, not the make-believe games she plays."

"That’s you, not me. Blood is my food. You want to preach bloodline to a Blood Elf?" Qianya snorted, a spark in dry grass.

"Put it this way. Tangxue is my spiritual continuation. In a sense, she is me. And the one talking to you now is the remnant of my past mind. We’re the same person. Do you understand?"

"Mhm. I get it." The words were easy; the current beneath was not.

"I’m serious."

"I know." Qianya looked at Yueyu, gaze plain and sharp as glass. "Honestly, I’m kind of a narcissist."

"Either way, we’ve made our choice. More debate is wind on stone, right?"

"So, let’s begin. There’s not much time left."

"No. Time is always generous—until the last moment." Yueyu slowly closed her eyes, like dusk pulling down the curtain.

On that, Qianya was right about one thing: they’d chosen to step forward. Beyond that, words were leaves in a river, swept away.