129 Just Stay Behind, Damn It
It had been three days since the expedition plans began rolling into motion. The high walls of Yellow Dragon City bustled with activity, cloaked in the haze of talisman smoke and the shimmer of enchanted cloth. A dozen boat artifacts, half of them shaped like elegant dragon-headed skiffs, the others like flattened gourd leaves, were moored along the upper platforms, floating just above the stonework, secured by chains that pulsed faintly with qi.
I stood on the highest tier of the wall, watching as the last of the supplies were loaded. Behind me, the city hummed with anticipation: final orders, last-minute preparations, the kind of nervous energy that always swirled before any long journey.
The Imperial Phoenix Guard was hard at work, finalizing our departure. They moved with that annoying military precision that said we're important and you better not question our list-checking habits. One group tallied rations, another examined communication mirrors, and a few poor souls were still arguing over how many spare chamber pots we needed for a three-week trip.
I, meanwhile, had my own headache.
"No means no, Ren Jingyi."
She stood just across me, arms crossed and eyes practically sparking. "You're not leaving without me."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I am leaving without you. I'll be back in a few weeks. It's not like I'm moving to another planet."
"What even is a pluh-net?" She stepped closer, practically invading my personal space. "You're going to get Lu Gao, right? That means there'll be danger. Which means I should go."
I forced a smile. "You can't go because precisely there'll be danger. Do you want another Shenyuan situation?"
Ren Jingyi scowled, mouth curling into a sharp sneer. "Don't use that against me."
"It's not 'against' you," I said, spreading my hands. "It's just… look, I'm being practical. I've got a terrible habit of nearly dying every other week. And knowing my luck, if you come, I'll have to carry your corpse back in a Storage Ring, and I'd really rather not."
She clenched her fists, her qi flaring slightly. "I'm not weak, Da Wei."
Ooof… No Master? No His Eminence?
"No," I sighed. "But you're not invincible, okay?"
She jabbed a finger toward Jin Wen, who had unfortunately chosen right then to walk past us, holding a stack of sealed scrolls.
"What about him, huh?" she barked. "You're bringing that relic along, and he's barely even Fourth Realm! What is he gonna do, recite poetry at our enemies?!"
Jin Wen froze mid-step. His lips twitched like he was about to respond, but then he made the wise choice of pretending he was deaf.
I coughed into my fist, trying to stifle a laugh. "Ren…"
"Oh don't 'Ren' me, Master!" she snapped. "Don't act like bringing a dusty old historian is 'strategic' and leaving me behind is 'logical.' I'm Fifth Realm already! I can fight!"
Jin Wen was still standing there. Poor guy looked like he'd just seen a ghost from his past life.
"Power doesn't mean invincibility," I said, more gently this time. "You're strong, sure. But strength's not the only factor. I need people who can adapt. Jin Wen might look like a stick that's been left out in the rain, but he knows the terrain. He's been in the desert kingdom before. You haven't."
She scoffed. "So that's it? Experience? I can gain experience if you let me come!"
"Or lose your life getting it," I muttered. "Look, Jingyi'er, I get it. You feel sidelined. But sometimes, being strong also means knowing when to wait."
"I hate waiting," she growled, voice cracking just slightly.
I reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Then hate me all you want. But I'm not budging on this."
She stared at me, furious, lips quivering between yelling and biting back a sob. But finally, she turned around and stormed off.
I let out a long breath.
Jin Wen hesitantly shuffled over. "Uh… Lord Immortal Da Wei?"
"Yeah?"
"…Would you consider issuing an Imperial Order preventing her from ever comparing me to rotten tree bark again?"
"No promises," I muttered. "But I'll put in a good word for your poetry skills."
"That was Kang, he's the one who recites poetry… I am just a quiet old historian…" The old man sighed and walked away like someone who had just aged ten more years in ten seconds.
"I am just joking, no need to be sour about it," Gods above. I hadn't even left the city yet, and I already needed a rest. "I definitely have to keep my mouth in check."
Footsteps approached behind me: quiet, deliberate, but not hiding. I turned slightly and saw Hei Yuan walking toward me, hands tucked inside his black and gray robes, face as impassive as ever.
"Glad you made it," I said. "Didn't think you'd come."
"I did say I would," he replied.
"Well, you didn't say it enthusiastically."
He didn't rise to the bait. Just stood beside me, his eyes following the horizon like he was measuring the weight of the sky.
I brought only two people from the Shadow Clan with me: Hei Yuan and Jin Wen. Neither of them had pledged themselves to me, not formally, not with oaths or pacts. But they volunteered for this trip. That said something. Maybe not loyalty, but intent. And intent could be just as valuable.
I glanced at him. "How are you holding up?"
Hei Yuan folded his arms behind his back. "Just returned with the other Imperial Phoenix Guards. We made contact with some of my embedded agents in this part of the continent. The communication array in this region's weaker than I expected, but it's still operational."
I nodded. "Your clan's information network. Anyone over there got details on the Kingdom of the Promised Dunes?"
He gave me a small, tired shrug. "As much as anyone else knows. Which is to say, not much. The Dunes are secretive. Proud. Even the Martial Alliance doesn't fully control them. They're… cooperative, but not submissive."
"I figured," I said. "Still, worth asking. I've been doing my homework. Been reading, interviewing merchants, cultivators, even a guy who claimed to have married a dune princess. He was lying, obviously… couldn't even name the capital city."
Hei Yuan gave the faintest twitch of a smirk.
"But hey," I continued, "never hurts to double-check the myths. Go ahead, recite what we do know. Might help me organize my thoughts."
He nodded once. "The Promised Dunes were originally a part of the Tribal Factions of the Great Desert. Independent tribes. Nomadic. Always fighting amongst themselves, but bound by shared bloodlines and traditions. During a great crisis, details unclear, they unified, at least partially, and aligned themselves with the Martial Alliance."
"Which means," I said, "they're technically not under the Empire's thumb."
"No," Hei Yuan said. "They answer only to themselves and the Alliance. It's complicated."
He wasn't wrong.
The Martial Alliance… that was a headache all on its own. A world-spanning organization composed of State-Sects, each powerful enough to rule entire countries. From what I'd pieced together, they functioned like a self-regulating council, enforcing balance and providing arbitration for disputes the Empire didn't, or couldn't, touch.
I couldn't think of a perfect Earth comparison, but I'd say the United Nations came kind of close.
Except, here? The Martial Alliance was armed to the teeth. Every one of its member sects could topple cities, and the Alliance itself? A behemoth that could stand toe-to-toe with the Empire.
Hei Yuan continued, "The Promised Dunes send representatives to the Martial Alliance's summits. They keep their distance from the Empire, though they've fought together in major wars. But internally, the Dunes remain a sovereign power."
"Cultural differences?"
"Vast. Religious, too. They worship the Endless Sun and its Heralds. Their cultivation methods revolve around heat, pressure, and illusions. Their strongest clans train in the Sand Dreaming Arts, techniques that let them slip between layers of perception."
I raised an eyebrow. "Dreaming arts?"
He met my gaze. "They believe the world is made of overlapping dreams. To strike the real, you must know which dream you're in. Their highest masters… never wake up. But they can still kill you."
"Neat," I muttered. "Also terrifying."
Hei Yuan shrugged again. "We're walking into foreign lands. Expect foreign rules."
"Got it." I sighed and turned to watch the floating ships below. "Thanks, Hei Yuan. Really. This trip's gonna be insane, and I need people who aren't."
He tilted his head slightly. "Then why bring Jin Wen?"
"…I walked into that one."
But hey, the old historian wasn't that bad.
Hei Yuan gave the barest ghost of a smile, then returned to silence.
The wind blew harder. Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang.
Departure was near.
"Just a question," Hei Yuan said, breaking the silence beside me.
I didn't look at him right away. "What is it?"
He squinted toward the boats and the women moving among them. "This is my first time seeing the Imperial Phoenix Guard in person. But… are they really all women?"
I sighed. "Yeah. All of them."
"Great figures too," a loud voice chimed in behind us.
I turned just in time to see Jiang Zhen sauntering over, arms folded behind his head and a grin on his face. He nodded appreciatively at a trio of Phoenix Guards walking across one of the docked skyships, balancing heavy supply crates like they weighed nothing. "Strong hips. Graceful steps. That one's probably a dancer."
"Jiang Zhen," I muttered, dragging a hand across my face.
He winked at me. "What? I'm just appreciating the view."
The Imperial Phoenix Guards were a sight, I'd admit that. Not for the reason Jiang Zhen implied, though.
They moved with precision, discipline baked into their bones. Their crimson and black armor glinted with golden accents, not flashy, but regal in a way that demanded respect. Each of them wore the winged sigil of the Phoenix Guard across their breastplate, and a shimmering silk sash marked their individual ranks, silver, gold, or the rare platinum. Their weapons were varied: spears, sabers, bows, and fans. Some carried dual curved daggers sheathed at their hips, while others summoned construct tools and spirit tablets with flicks of their fingers.
A dozen of them were currently moving in synchronized formation, directing cargo through the air with spirit art techniques while others reviewed route sigils and finalized barrier matrices on the boats. It was like watching a dance performed by lethal artisans.
I turned back to Jiang Zhen and stared at him.
"Don't take this the wrong way," I said, "but thank you for coming on short notice. Picking up Ren Jingyi personally, I appreciate that."
He grinned wider. "Of course. The brat's like a daughter to me."
"Right. And while I appreciate it, I feel obligated to remind you…" I tilted my head toward the guards. "The Imperial Phoenix Guard are all, on average, at the Fifth Realm."
He puffed up his chest. "I'm at the Sixth Realm."
I leaned in slightly. "Their captain is at the Seventh."
That shut him up.
His smirk withered a little, and he scratched the back of his neck. "Okay, okay. Just looking. No need to send me flying off the battlements."
I snorted. "I wasn't going to. But she might."
Jiang Zhen quickly redirected his gaze to the sky. "Lovely day today."
Hei Yuan coughed quietly into his fist.
I just stood there for a moment longer, letting the wind brush through my hair, watching as another sleek boat artifact floated down beside the others like a leaf settling into place.
The Imperial Phoenix Guard didn't look back at us. They were too focused, too busy, too professional.
They didn't need to be feared because they were women.
They needed to be feared because they were damn good at their job.
"There has to be a story behind it, right?" Hei Yuan prodded, not letting it go.
I gave him a sidelong glance. "Behind what?"
He gestured toward the Phoenix Guards again, specifically toward a spear-wielding woman barking orders at her subordinates while standing atop a floating cargo crate.
"The Imperial Phoenix Guard. They're responsible for safeguarding the Emperor, yeah? So how come… you know, they're all women? That's got to be controversial."
Jiang Zhen, still loitering nearby, smirked and leaned in. "I've been wondering that myself. Not that I'm complaining."
I shook my head. Of course, he wasn't.
But Hei Yuan's question wasn't entirely wrong.
"All right, all right," I said, hands slipping into my sleeves. "You really want to know?"
Hei Yuan nodded eagerly. Jiang Zhen leaned forward like I was about to tell the best tavern tale of the season.
So I told them.
"The Imperial Phoenix Guard's all-female composition started because of one person—His Majesty's mother, the Empress Dowager." I paused for effect. "She ordered it herself. Said she hoped her son would… enjoy himself a little more."
Jiang Zhen faked a cough and turned it into a laugh. Hei Yuan, meanwhile, paled slightly.
"Master Wei," he hissed, eyes darting left and right, "wouldn't that be considered slander?"
"Slander?" I raised a brow. "It's not slander if it's true. Besides, I heard it straight from Xin Yune's mouth. She was close to the late Empress, you know."
It was only known to a few people that Xin Yune was, in fact, the Empress Dowager, but she was more famously known as the Empire's Divine Physician. Nongmin requested her identity as his mother would remain a secret, something I complied with.
"Still," muttered Hei Yuan nervously.
"Relax. The guards themselves don't mind. They're professionals through and through. They're proud of who they are. If anything, they'd probably beat you up after you said something disrespectful, not before."
That didn't comfort him much.
Still, I figured I should take the edge off. "But we've got no idea what it's like to be the Emperor," I added, letting my tone shift to something more serious. "Even with a guard full of beauties around him, I doubt he's ever so much as blinked twice. The man's like a damn robot."
Jiang Zhen blinked. "What's a robot?"
"Never mind." I waved it off. "It's a 'me' thing."
Jiang Zhen didn't press. Instead, he leaned his shoulder against a wall and asked, "So what do you think? Want to know why I'm really here?"
I narrowed my eyes. "I figured it wasn't just to ogle women and babysit Ren Jingyi."
He shrugged. "The Seven Grand Clans are making trouble again."
That made me frown.
"Trouble how?" I asked.
"Interfering with demon hunts. Securing border territories for themselves. A few of them are using the demon infestations as excuses to press influence into weaker vassal states."
Just hearing the phrase Seven Grand Clans made my stomach twist. They were, in essence, the miniature versions of the Seven Imperial Houses: ambitious, ancient, and way too arrogant for their own good.
"And the Empire's doing nothing?" I asked.
"They're watching," Jiang Zhen said. "But you know how it is. As long as it doesn't disrupt the capital, they won't move."
I exhaled through my nose and looked toward the sky, where the first sunboat shimmered against the afternoon light.
So much for a smooth expedition.
I wandered down the rows of Imperial Phoenix Guards checking supplies, fixing cargo seals, and tuning the qi-guidance formations on the boats moored atop the Yellow Dragon City's high walls. Their discipline was admirable. Their aesthetics? Also admirable.
I spotted one of them, a sharp-eyed spearwoman whose features were more ethereal than militant. Her armor clung to her like sculpted gold and crimson silk, and she had that classic "deadly and don't-ask-questions" look all the Phoenix Guards seemed to share.
Naturally, I walked up to her and said, "Hey, cutie, you don't mind running an errand for me, do you?"
She blinked, a bit startled. Her face flushed a soft pink, but she managed a composed nod. "I will do as you instruct, Sir Wei."
Huh.
I blinked right back at her, genuinely surprised.
Was that… did my charisma stat just finally activate? After all the chaos, bloodshed, and emotional trauma, was this the moment it chose to shine?
"Wow," I muttered. "I never thought I'd live to see the day."
I figured it wasn't just the stat. Rise in reputation, cultivation, titles… yeah, that probably helped. Being publicly recognized by the Emperor had a few perks. I'd have to remember to abuse, I mean, responsibly use them.
"I need a favor," I told her. "A friend of mine's stuck with demon-hunting duties here in Riverfall, but the Seven Grand Clans are sticking their noses where they don't belong. Do you have any idea how we can get them to back off?"
She tilted her head slightly. "I don't have any executive power," she said with a hint of apology. "We're just bodyguards, really. But…"
I leaned in.
"But," she continued, "since His Majesty will soon announce you as an Honored Friend of the Empire, your words will carry political weight. If you write a formal letter addressed to the Seven Grand Clans, it might make them reconsider their interference. Especially if you frame it as a contribution to Imperial peacekeeping."
My brows lifted. "That's… actually a good idea."
Before I could even turn to yell at Jiang Zhen for paper and ink, the Phoenix Guard reached behind her sash and produced a folded sheet of fine paper, an inkbrush, and a small jade-capped inkpot. Without missing a beat, she knelt slightly and offered her back.
"I can be your desk," she said seriously. "Please write what you need."
I stood there, brush halfway to dipping, blinking in awkward silence.
This was awkward. On so many levels. Her posture was perfect, her back smooth, and the inkpot sat balanced like this was a routine mission task. It probably was.
"Nongmin," I muttered under my breath, glancing at the heavens, "if this is one of your honeypot attempts, I swear on my former teaching credentials, I will smack you."
Still, a plan was a plan.
I dipped the brush, and, trying not to press too hard against her spine, began to write.
By the time I finished writing the seventh letter, my hand was sore (kind of) and I'd used more honorifics than I cared to count. The Seven Grand Clans each had their own delicate ego, and if I offended even one of them, they'd likely respond by doubling the number of demons they were allegedly trying to "contain."
Still kneeling, the Phoenix Guard beneath me waited until the final stroke dried before standing up and rolling the letters with practiced grace. She beamed at me, her earlier blush returning in full force.
"I'll have these dispatched immediately," she said, giving a salute that made her armor shimmer in the sun. She dashed off toward the comms division, her crimson sash fluttering behind her like a silk ribbon in a storm.
"...Someone's having fun," I muttered under my breath.
Before I could turn around, boots clanked confidently across the high wall stones.
"Captain of the Imperial Phoenix Guard's Left Wing, reporting for duty!" declared a striking woman with flame-red hair and armor far more ornate than the others. Gold feathers curved around her shoulders and the phoenix crest on her breastplate seemed almost alive with qi. If the others looked like refined bodyguards, she looked like she could solo a battlefield.
The Imperial Phoenix Guard was split into two wings: Left and Right. The Right Wing remained in the Imperial Capital to guard the throne, while the Left Wing accompanied imperial expeditions like this one.
I gave her a nod. "Go on."
"All preparations are complete," she said briskly. "Nine Soaring Dragon boats are warp-ready. We've completed the tethering procedures for the three Formation Gourd boats as well, they're synced to ride the dragons' warp pathways."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Good job."
The Soaring Dragon boats were our primary transport, massive, sleek vessels inscribed with ancient flight and warp formations. The Formation Gourds were experimental support crafts, smaller, flexible boats able to anchor and amplify field arrays. Not easy tech to work with, even for the Empire.
I turned and found Jiang Zhen leaning against the railing, watching the fleet from a perch like some idle tiger. He looked far too relaxed for someone with incoming demon problems.
"I made a contract with Tao Long, just talk to him," I told him, "the Ninth Realm cultivator. I'm sure you've already met him, but you're going to coordinate with him on demon-hunting duties from now on. We had a talk yesterday and he was rather keen of keeping my spear…"
Jiang Zhen raised an eyebrow. "The man with the uncomfortably calm eyes? Yeah, I met him."
"Good. Work with him. Don't let your pride get in the way."
"Understood," He smirked. "But you do know you are not my boss."
We were almost ready to move. Supplies packed. Guards in position. Boats humming with energy. Even the politics were, for once, aligned in our favor.
Almost too smooth.
Which meant something was bound to go wrong.
"We'll be leaving in five minutes," the Imperial Phoenix Guard Captain informed me crisply, her red hair dancing with the wind as she turned sharply on her heel and barked a series of commands to her subordinates. The women scattered with flawless coordination, like a school of phoenixes taking flight.
Hei Yuan and Jin Wen were already making their way to the nearest Soaring Dragon boat. Jin Wen still looked somewhat traumatized from the verbal lashing Ren Jingyi had given him earlier. Hei Yuan, ever calm, was silently nodding to passing guards, observing, analyzing, storing everything like the quiet tactician he was.
I took a step toward the gangplank, then paused.
A flicker brushed the edge of my awareness. Faint, familiar. The kind of presence you don't mistake, even in a sea of qi.
I sighed, deeply.
Spreading my Divine Sense further, I honed in. There. Crammed between crates in the lower storage deck. Concealed, or trying to be. I vanished with a Flash Step, reappearing beside a row of barrels filled with… something pungent.
Why was there even wine here?
I popped the lid off one barrel and frowned.
A pair of fluttering lashes peeked out from the shadows, followed by a wine-soaked arm and a bleary little face.
"Wa… wa… waaa…"
"Ren Jingyi," I groaned, reaching in and dragging her out by the collar.
The girl was half-submerged in wine, and the other half was wobbling in drunken defiance. Her eyes were glazed, her cheeks flushed, and her mouth kept mumbling something about "justice" and "boats being for everyone."
I didn't know whether to be impressed or appalled.
"Why… just why?" I muttered, hoisting her over my shoulder like a sack of carrots. She gave a soft hiccup in response.
With a leap, I landed back atop the outer wall where Jiang Zhen was still lounging, arms crossed, watching the ships like a bored hawk.
"Here," I said, dropping her into his arms. "Look after her, will you?"
Jiang Zhen caught her with surprising grace. He blinked, looking down at the wine-drenched mess in his arms as her head lolled dramatically against his chest.
"She's drunk," he remarked with a wry smile.
"Really?" I said dryly. "I hadn't noticed."
"She's also clinging to my sleeve and muttering something about… becoming my sword companion?"
I turned away. "Not my problem. And don't be weird…"
Jiang Zhen laughed softly, adjusting his grip so she wouldn't slip. "This might be a challenging affair."
"She's your problem now."
With that, I jumped down to the gangplank and boarded the ship, the low hum of its formations syncing to my presence.
Somehow, this trip was already turning into a mess… and we hadn't even left the walls yet.
130 Sandthorn Village
Morning arrived with a whisper rather than a blaze. The sun had not yet crested the horizon, but Sandthorn Village was already stirring. A faint breeze carried with it the scent of dust, cactus blossom, and baked clay, weaving between clay-brick homes and crooked awnings stretched from one side of the narrow street to the other.
Alice sat on the edge of a window in their rented room atop the old inn. She rubbed her eyes, yawned, and watched the early risers shuffle past with baskets, jugs, and the occasional curious goat. From here, she could see Joan already setting up their stall, if one could call it that. It was just a foldable stool, a clean mat, and a wooden sign carved with awkward, shaky characters that read:
"Healing Offered – Trade in Herbs, Plants, or Organic Goods."
Alice scoffed lightly. At least the sign looked rustic enough. Joan hadn't even bothered to write in the local dialect properly. But that hadn't mattered. Sandthorn was the kind of place where people judged character by sweat and work, not titles or script.
Joan, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a long pale scarf to hide her more foreign features, waved lazily to a passing auntie.
"Morning, Granny Su," she called in decent enough pronunciation.
The old woman waddled over, holding a bundle of thorn-leaf cactus wrapped in a basket. "My back's been acting up again, Mistress Cho An. I brought what you asked."
Joan motioned for her to sit. "Lay down here, Granny. I'll fix you right up."
She slipped a hand into her pouch and pulled out a small phial of cooling tonic, extracted from the root of some creeping vine she'd found behind the village bathhouse. With her Alchemist subclass, creating a simple tonic was easy enough. However, working on foreign materials was easier said than done. Yet, Joan proved herself plenty capable.
Alice watched as Granny Su sighed under Joan's touch. The old woman's spine gave a series of audible cracks, and the stiffness left her body like steam rising off a hot pan.
Granny Su cooed. "Ooh... it's like when my husband was still alive."
Joan didn't miss a beat. "Then he must've had good hands. Shame he died before he could teach me." Her lip service was on point as always. The reason she wasn't using spells was to avoid attracting attention and so that she could test her alchemical concoctions.
Laughter peeled out between them.
Joan chuckled as the woman hobbled away. Alice shook her head and finally stood up. She stepped lightly over the sleeping form of Lu Gao, who was snoring on a mat in the corner of the hut, limbs sprawled out like a collapsed horse.
His hair had gotten long again. The desert sun had bleached it at the tips. At some point, he'd kicked his blanket away and was using a sack of dried lizard jerky as a pillow.
Alice stepped out into the brightening morning, blinking against the dry wind. The air was still cool, but the sun was creeping higher, and with it came the promise of heat.
Joan already had a small line. Villagers brought her everything from dried weeds to dead beetles, offering what they could in exchange for herbal help. Most had stopped trying to guess their origin. Alice and Joan wore their roles well… young mistresses of uncertain background, possibly noble, possibly rogue, but certainly not from around here.
Their water was clean. Their cures worked. And they weren't stingy.
Alice wandered over and crouched beside the mat. "Any luck with the root you wanted?"
Joan pointed to a gourd-shaped sack hanging nearby. "Got a lump of 'shiver marrow' this morning. The old hunter said it grows near snake burrows. Feels cold to the touch. I think I can use it for a blood-freezing salve."
Alice raised an eyebrow. "And you paid him in…?"
"A song," Joan said with a perfectly straight face. "Told him I used to be a bard."
"You were never a bard."
"I didn't say I was good."
Alice exhaled through her nose in amusement.
Sandthorn had accepted them faster than expected. Word had spread quickly about the soft-spoken one who healed, and the stern one who traded clean water for stories. Nobody knew what to make of Lu Gao, but they liked how he lifted carts with one hand and talked to animals like they were old friends.
The villagers didn't press. Life was hard enough out here. If strangers wanted to help, they were welcome to try.
Alice glanced back at the hut. "How's Lu Gao?"
Joan adjusted her scarf. "Still asleep. I dosed his tea again."
Alice frowned. "You drugged him?"
"Just a little. He was up half the night trying to fight the firewood pile again. He thinks it's a spirit. I believe the boy might be either paranoid… or he has a condition."
"I'm going to start recording his delusions," Alice muttered. "However, I imagine it has something to do with nightmares."
A little boy stepped forward with a fistful of strange red moss. "My sister's got a rash," he said.
Joan took the moss gently, inspected it, and nodded. "This'll do. Tell her to stay out of the creek. I'll make something for her before noon."
The boy ran off. Joan tucked the moss into a pouch.
"Your Common is getting better," Alice said, folding her arms. "We'll be safe here for a while."
"Of course, it is getting better," Joan nodded. "Day-to-day conversations help a great deal."
Alice tilted her head, watching the little boy disappear around a bend in the dusty road, then turned her gaze toward the sky. The clouds were high and wispy, stretched thin across the pale blue. The kind of sky that promised dry heat and no rain for weeks.
She dusted her hands on her disguise, some shawl, trousers, and baggy tunic. "I'm going to wake Lu Gao up. The sun's already climbing, and he still hasn't done his stretches."
Joan smirked under her scarf. "Tell him the firewood's plotting revenge. Maybe that'll motivate him."
Alice snorted but didn't respond. As she turned to go, Joan added, "Where's the skull?"
"In my Shadow Space," Alice replied, pausing mid-step. "It was either that or let him flirt with every passing tree root. He's been getting annoying lately. Kept asking if I was 'of age' in this continent and whether marriage customs allowed polygamy."
Joan raised an eyebrow. "You're the only one I know who can trap a disembodied ancient sage in her pocket dimension and call it 'annoying.' That skull is rather problematic, isn't it?"
"Well, he keeps humming when I'm trying to relax," Alice said flatly. "It's annoying. I don't even know where he gets the tunes. Half of them sound like lullabies for demons."
Joan chuckled. "Still, it must be nice, having that kind of space. I've been running out of room in my pouches. Think I could stash a few herbs in there?"
Alice glanced over her shoulder. "I don't mind. Just don't put anything that wriggles or leaks."
"Deal."
The Shadow Space wasn't technically a spell. It was a skill: a rare one, and unique to Alice. Back in Losten, before the Fall, she'd seen Blessed warriors and archmages wield miracles like second nature. They'd walked with halos of light, listened to the Voice, and summoned swords and armor from nothing. Joan and David had both been Blessed. They had the Item Box, the System Shop, and even the Respawn Gate at one point.
Alice had none of that.
She remembered the envy well, watching them from the corner of her eye as they channeled divine artifacts or received divine quests. The Blessed were the Immortal Champions of the Realm, chosen by the Supreme, favored, and exalted. Alice had been just a Champion. Strong, yes, but without the Voice, without the grace.
But when the great tragedy fell upon their world, when the sky cracked and the systems bled, the Blessed had lost their blessings. The Voice fell silent. The shops closed. The respawns stopped.
Alice's Shadow Space, however, remained.
A tiny sliver of a dimensional pocket she had forged herself. Not divine, not holy… just hers. It had grown over time, expanded with her will, deepened as she pressed herself beyond limits.
She entered the hut again. The air inside was dim and warm, a reprieve from the morning glare. Lu Gao was still sprawled across the mat, one arm thrown over his face like a man shielding himself from dreams. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Alice crouched beside him.
"Time to rise, Lu Gao," she murmured, nudging his shoulder. "There are so much to do."
Lu Gao groaned. "What…?"
"It's time to train."
He grumbled something inarticulate and rolled over.
"Get up," demanded Alice. "The sun waits for no man, and neither does your sword form."
Lu Gao stirred beneath Alice's hand like a reluctant boulder being asked to roll uphill. He blinked once, then again, the haze of sleep thick in his eyes. His face was a mess of pillow creases, dust smudges, and the vague imprint of dried jerky along one cheek. When he finally sat up, his hair stuck out like wild reeds, bleached at the ends and tangled beyond hope.
His torso was bare, muscle-worn but lean, with old scars crossing his back and sides like forgotten brushstrokes. His pants were little more than threadbare rags held together by sheer will and the occasional patch of cactus fiber. The desert had not been kind to his wardrobe, and the locals had even less to offer. The Sandthorn folk were generous with bread and balm but stingy with cloth.
Alice pinched the bridge of her nose. "You look like a spirit who lost a bet and had to walk through a sandstorm naked."
Lu Gao scratched his chest without shame. "I feel like one."
"If I had known the extent of your idiocy," she muttered, "I would've force-fed you twice the dose Joan gave."
Lu Gao winced, rubbing his temples. "So I was drugged."
"Yes," Alice confirmed. "Because you were fighting firewood again."
"…It hissed at me."
"It creaked. Because it's wood."
Lu Gao sighed and looked around for his shirt before realizing there wasn't one. Just a small pile of desert sand where a sleeve used to be. He turned back to Alice with a questioning look, only for her to wave him off and say, "Don't move."
She reached into the air with a practiced motion, her fingers drawing a spiral in the space beside her. A ripple shimmered, distorting the air like heat rising from stone. Then, from the folds of that ripple, she withdrew a neatly folded set of clothes, a tailored outfit wrapped in gray cloth.
Alice unwrapped it with care. The ensemble was unlike anything one would find in Sandthorn: sleek, functional, and oddly elegant. The shirt was dark, close-fitting but flexible, made of some stretch-weave that shimmered slightly in the light. The trousers were reinforced at the knees, with hidden seams for ease of movement. A sleeveless overcoat bore subtle embroidery, nothing flashy, but enough to suggest a touch of refinement. There were even boots.
Lu Gao took it as if handed a relic. He held the shirt up, brows furrowing. "This… isn't from here."
"No," Alice replied. "It's from my stash."
The boy stared at it like it might grow wings. "It's… tight-looking."
"That's the point. You're posing as our bodyguard." She crossed her arms. "Your cultivation is more obvious than ours. People see it when you walk, hear it when you breathe. Me and Joan can is better off with our drabby disguises, since we don't exactly exude spiritual pressure. But you? You're like a lion hiding behind a basket."
Lu Gao blinked.
"That was metaphorical," Alice added quickly. "Don't argue. I still need practice with my words."
He didn't. Instead, he nodded once, then murmured, "I understand, Mistress."
Alice raised an eyebrow. "Don't call me that."
"But the Skull said…"
"The Skull likes to mess with you."
"Oh." He paused, looking again at the clothing. "Will it… chafe?"
Alice rolled her eyes and turned toward the door. "If you complain, I'll stitch cactus fibers into the collar."
Behind her, Lu Gao chuckled faintly. "Understood."
She paused at the threshold and looked back over her shoulder. "Ten minutes. Then stretches. Then training."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Lu Gao…"
"Sorry!"
Alice nodded approvingly as Lu Gao took the strange, tailored coat from her outstretched hand, still blinking the sleep from his eyes. The garment shimmered slightly under the morning sun, black threads woven with matte silver patterns, reinforced at the seams, and designed for both aesthetic and utility. It looked like something out of a different world. Which, of course, it was.
Lu Gao tilted his head, clearly uncertain. "Mistress… this doesn't look like something a desert mercenary would wear."
"That's because you're not a desert mercenary," Alice replied, adjusting the hem of her sleeve. "You're our bodyguard. Our guard dog. And your cultivation is painfully obvious to those who can see it. Joan and I don't exude any spiritual pressure. You? You glow like a bonfire at night. It's fine for you to dress in something… more eccentric. Moreover, I'd like you to be a bit more presentable when David finally collects us."
"I understand, Mistress," Lu Gao said obediently. He clumsily began to shrug the suit on, the fabric hanging awkwardly over his still-topless torso.
Alice smirked. "Try not to rip it."
But before she could quip further, something in the air shifted.
Her body stiffened. Her Danger Sense, an old skill, not tied to any divine blessing, but one she'd sharpened through countless close calls, flared like a siren behind her eyes.
"…No," she murmured.
The breeze had died. The sunlight felt wrong: dimmed and filtered, as if the sky had been painted over in a thin sheen of silence. She turned and stepped out of the hut.
The streets were empty.
Stalls abandoned. Dried herbs scattered in the dust. Half-filled buckets toppled over. Even the goats were gone.
Alice's eyes scanned the alleyways. "Joan?" she called, but her voice felt swallowed by the stillness.
Then… her head snapped upward.
High above, in the sky that had once promised dry heat and a peaceful day, something shimmered.
They flickered into view one by one.
Single-winged creatures, drifting like puppets cut loose from their strings. Porcelain faces, cracked and painted with faint smirks. Limbs too long for their bodies, their skin pale like moonlight soaked in bleach. They hovered motionless for a heartbeat. Then two. Then more appeared. Dozens.
"Angels," Alice hissed. "But not the good kind."
These weren't divine messengers. These were enforcers. Executioners. The kind sent when worlds went quiet and systems screamed in warning.
"This is bad," she whispered.
She ripped off her desert disguise, letting the shawl and dust-dyed cloth fall to the ground. Underneath was her true garb: a gown of midnight black stitched with stormsilver thread, long frills whipping at the edges as if moved by unseen winds. Her heels clicked against the stone as she summoned her Shadow Space with a flick of the wrist.
Her umbrella dropped into her hand with a satisfying snap. She twirled it once and grabbed a rolled parchment, the Magic Scroll of Greater Teleportation.
She spun and sprinted back into the hut.
Lu Gao had just managed to get one arm through his sleeve when she barreled in. His eyes widened. "Mistress…?"
"No time!" Alice shouted, grabbing him by the shoulder and slamming the scroll into his chest.
His mouth opened to protest, but she silenced him with a glare, then jabbed him in the chest with her nail.
Just enough to break skin.
Lu Gao flinched, but she had already brought the bloody finger to her lips, tasting the copper warmth of his vitality.
"Blood link set," she muttered. "I will find you, but first, you have to go."
Outside, the light turned blindingly white. A keening wail descended from the heavens, like crystal swords being dragged across glass mountains.
Then the hut exploded.
An all-consuming blast of radiant energy tore through the building like a wave of purification. Walls disintegrated. Air turned molten.
But before it reached them…
Alice raised her hand, channeling raw energy into Lu Gao's body.
"Shield Drain!"
His skin flashed black as her own life force wrapped around him in a protective coil. Simultaneously, her other hand thrust toward his forehead.
"Great Charm."
Lu Gao's pupils dilated. Just for a moment, his instincts were not his own.
"Rip the scroll!" she commanded.
And he did.
With a sound like ripping silk, the Greater Teleportation scroll activated. Symbols blazed across the floor, surrounding Lu Gao in a ring of violet flame. The hut vanished in light… blinding, searing light…
But Lu Gao was gone.
The angelic detonation consumed the space where he'd stood only a breath before.
Alice, robes smoldering and umbrella now a shield of pitch-black wards, spun on her heel and vanished into the shadows behind the falling debris. She didn't wait to see where the angels landed.
She had only one thought now.
Find Joan.
131 Sailing the Skies
We finally set off.
I stood near the prow of the lead Soaring Dragon, the wind brushing past my robes and the hum of formations vibrating beneath my feet. Beneath us, the clouds parted like silk, revealing glimpses of the earth far below: rivers like silver threads, mountain peaks like broken teeth.
"Sir Da Wei," Xue Xin called, walking with a measured gait across the polished deck. Her expression was calm as ever, but I noticed the pride in her voice. "At this pace, we'll reach the Promised Dunes in less than two months. Possibly six weeks, depending on the wind flows."
I turned my head toward her, raising an eyebrow. "That's fast."
"Faster than what I heard about your previous journey from Riverfall Continent to the Imperial Capital," she said, her voice slightly curious, as if prodding for confirmation.
"Mm. Took longer than that," I admitted. "And that was on the Floating Dragon. According to Ren Xun, we would've made good time if we didn't sight-see and stop at every turn."
She gave a rare smile. "These are the upgraded models. The Soaring Dragons run on quintessence-grade formation cores now. A gift from the Empire's Arcane Engineering Pavilion. And of course…"
She gestured toward the rear of the fleet, where bulbous, gourd-shaped vessels trailed in formation. Their hulls glowed faintly with runes that flickered like fireflies in the fading light.
"…the Formation Gourd boats," she continued. "They carry a modified leyline compression array that drastically reduces the Soaring Dragons' cooldown time between warp-jumps. Without them, each leap would require two days of rest. With them? Two hours."
"Convenient," I said, though I kept my arms folded. I couldn't help but feel a bit suspicious. All this technology, all this support… too many good things handed over too easily by an Empire that didn't trust me. "It seems the Emperor does intend to honor his word."
Still, I wasn't going to complain about arriving faster. The Promised Dunes weren't just a stop on a map. Somewhere in that endless sea of sand was Lu Gao. Alive, if Alice's message was right. And the girls… Alice and Joan… were counting on me to get there.
There was so much to talk with them.
"Have you assigned the watch schedule?" I asked.
"I have. Each boat has two internal cultivators, one spell weaver, and a formation specialist. Yours, of course, includes myself, Young Master Jin Yi, and General Bai. And then there are your retainers, Jin Wen and Hei Yuan."
I nodded, taking in her words. "General Bai, huh? Wasn't expecting a Divine General to be tagging along."
Xue Xin inclined her head slightly. "General Bai volunteered. The Bai Clan has always prided themselves on honor. He views your mission as a matter of national interest. And…" she hesitated just a beat, "he wanted to meet you."
"Let me guess," I said, tapping the rail. "To see if I'm a threat?"
Her lips pressed into a line. Not denying it.
"Fair enough," I muttered. "And Jin Yi?"
Xue Xin's gaze drifted toward the front cabin. "Young Master Jin Yi was assigned by the Ministry of Rites and Harmony. His presence is… ceremonial. The Empire wishes to express diplomatic goodwill."
I snorted. "He's a glorified tour guide."
She didn't disagree. "He's harmless. Talented in the social arts, if not martial."
I leaned back slightly, letting the wind catch my hair. The sky above was fading from pale blue into streaks of lavender and gold. It wasn't quite sunset yet, but we were nearing that magic hour when the whole world seemed softer.
"You trust him?" I asked.
She looked at me, eyes steady. "I trust few people, Sir Da Wei. But I don't believe Jin Yi is your enemy."
That was about the highest praise one could hope for from Xue Xin. I gave a noncommittal grunt and turned my gaze back to the clouds.
A part of me wanted to relax. The wind was clean up here, the kind you couldn't find anywhere near a city. Even the hum of the formation engines had a soothing rhythm, like the world was exhaling.
But the other part of me kept tapping me on the shoulder.
Too smooth.
Too fast.
Too easy.
"Sir Da Wei," came a new voice, high and polite.
I turned to see Jin Yi walking toward us with a hesitant sort of energy. He was young, probably not even thirty by Earth standards, though with cultivators it was always hard to tell. Slim frame, neatly trimmed hair, and a long robe in blue and white, typical ceremonial wear for his position.
He bowed lightly, just enough to be respectful without looking like he was groveling. "Forgive the intrusion. I wished to formally introduce myself, as we hadn't yet spoken in person."
"Da Wei," I said simply. "No need for formality."
"I appreciate your candor," Jin Yi said, with a practiced smile. "Though my position requires certain formalities, I prefer a more… harmonious rapport."
Xue Xin remained silent beside me, watching him like a cat eyeing a new bird in the garden.
"I've reviewed the itinerary," he went on, producing a thin jade slip from his sleeve. "Provided all warp-jumps are successful and we encounter no spatial turbulence, we should arrive at the northern edge of the Promised Dunes in forty-three days. I've arranged for a pre-landing banquet to be prepared three days prior, during our descent phase."
"A banquet?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "In the middle of a sandstorm continent?"
"It is tradition," he replied, as if that explained everything. "A ritual meal to ease the spirit before confronting the unknown."
I gave a small laugh. "If that's what keeps the Ministry happy, go for it. Just don't expect me to toast with gold wine under a collapsing leyline."
Jin Yi nodded, unoffended. "Understood. I'll ensure the banquet doesn't impede our operational readiness."
He gave another slight bow and stepped away, his light footfalls quickly lost in the wind.
When he was gone, I glanced at Xue Xin. "I take it he wasn't briefed on the fact we might be walking into a tomb full of sand beasts and forgotten blood rites."
She gave a faint shrug. "He knows the official version."
"Right," I murmured. "The version where I'm going to find missing Outsiders in an uncharted region for goodwill and mutual prosperity."
And then there was Lu Gao.
The sky darkened. One of the Formation Gourd boats flared briefly, a pulse of violet energy cascading through the clouds. We began to slow, warp-jump preparations underway.
"Should I expect any trouble on board?" I asked her quietly.
"Doubtful. The crews were handpicked by the Phoenix Guard and thoroughly screened. But…" she hesitated, "…there may still be eyes."
"Spies?"
"Observers," she corrected. "From more than one Imperial House. They wouldn't dare act openly. But you know how politics works."
"No, I don't, but I am in your safe hands, so that should count for something, right?"
"I am flattered, you think that, Sir Wei."
I used Voice Chat on Alice.
"Huh? That's unexpected."
Nothing. No chime, no signal, just the cold silence of the sky.
I tried Voice Chat on Lu Gao.
"What is the problem, Sir Da Wei?" asked Xue Xin.
Still nothing. Not even a flicker.
I frowned and tried Joan next.
"Don't mind me, Miss Xue," I kept my thoughts to my own. "I am merely thinking to myself."
Silence. There was utter silence in my Voice Chat.
My fingers twitched against the railing. No signal meant either they were out of range… or something was wrong. And I didn't like either possibility.
"Xue Xin," I said, turning to her. "Is there any way to make this thing faster?"
She gave me a side glance. "None."
"Seriously?"
"These are the fastest vessels we have that are warp-stable," she replied, tone level. "We're already cutting the standard journey time by half. Unless you'd like to try jumping through unstable leyline turbulence without a calibrated array…"
"I'll pass," I muttered. "And honestly, I barely understand half of what you say."
She studied me for a second, then added, "Be patient, Sir Da Wei. Worrying will not help them. And haste without purpose invites disaster."
That didn't make me feel better.
I exhaled slowly, the hum of the formation engines vibrating underfoot. The horizon remained unchanged, filled with endless sky and endless clouds.
"Jin Wen, Hei Yuan!" I called, waving them over.
The two appeared a moment later from below deck, not wearing the dark garb of the Shadow Clan this time, but neutral traveling robes. Neither of them came on this expedition as emissaries or scouts. No, this time they followed me under a simpler title: retainer.
Jin Wen adjusted his outer robe as he stepped beside me, brushing back some windblown strands of his hair. "You called, Master Wei?"
"Yeah. Jin Wen," I said, crossing my arms. "You know anything about the Promised Dunes?"
He nodded. "A fair bit. I was born in the Great Desert, actually. Not in the Dunes proper, but close enough. My early years were spent among a trade caravan. And just to get this out in advance, no, I am not related to the young fellow called Jin Wen."
"Really?" I blinked. "How'd you end up with the Shadow Clan?"
He offered a nostalgic smile. "Bandits struck the caravan when I was twelve. Most of us scattered. I wandered for days and was eventually found by Patriarch Hei Ben. He took me in."
"Lucky," I murmured.
"Very," he agreed.
I turned my attention to Hei Yuan, who stood at ease, hands folded behind his back. "Speaking of Patriarchs… has your clan decided on a new Patriarch yet?"
Hei Yuan snorted. "They want me to take it."
I raised a brow. "And you said?"
"I told them I'm too old to become anyone's Patriarch. My back hurts just thinking about Clan Council meetings."
"Nah, I think you are the right age," I chuckled. "But yeah, it's an acceptable reason not to agree. I reckon, you'd probably rather fight three blood demons naked than argue with Hei Ximei about land rights."
He gave a sage nod. "Naked and blindfolded."
The sky darkened slightly as we approached another warp-jump node. I watched the Formation Gourd boats pulse with pale blue light. That was the cue for a short break, two hours of quiet while the arrays cooled.
The wind died down just enough for voices to carry without shouting.
I sighed. "I'm bored."
Xue Xin glanced at me. "Boredom is a rare luxury in our line of work. You should savor it."
"No, seriously." I turned toward her with a half-grimace. "You got anything in mind to pass the time? Something fun?"
She was silent for a breath longer than necessary.
Then, with a completely straight face, she said, "I could warm your bed."
Hei Yuan coughed behind me. Jin Wen stared at the sky like he was trying to ascend through awkwardness alone.
I blinked. "I… uh… come again?"
Xue Xin tilted her head slightly, her tone entirely matter-of-fact. "It's a time-honored practice among martial companions. It builds trust and rapport. If you prefer, I can ask one of my sisters instead."
I stared. "You're talking about that like you're offering me extra blankets."
She blinked. "Would you prefer extra blankets?"
"No! I mean…" I ran a hand down my face. "You know what? Never mind."
There was an uncomfortable silence before Hei Yuan broke it with a muttered, "At least offer him tea first, Captain…"
Xue Xin raised an eyebrow. "I did. Two nights ago. He said no."
I turned to the railing, pretending to admire the scenery, face slightly hot. Why was I feeling nervous about this stuff when I could go gung-ho at it with Xin Yune all night, non-stop? This damn world… sometimes I missed the simplicity of Earth. Pizza and bad movies and awkward first dates where nobody offered to 'build rapport' in the most literal way possible.
But I guess boredom really was a luxury out here.
A luxury that was rapidly running out.
Because if I couldn't contact Alice, Joan, or Lu Gao soon… we weren't flying toward a reunion.
"So, do you want me to warm your bed?" suggested Xue Xin a second time. "Maybe call a few of my sisters to help on the task?"
"No thanks."
It wasn't just Xue Xin.
Now that I was really paying attention, it was all of them.
Every time I walked across the deck, one of the Imperial Phoenix Guard would give me a lingering look, smile too long, or pretend to bump into me and apologize with her hand way too low on my arm. That kind of look… the kind people used when they were sizing up a roast duck, not a person.
It was subtle, mostly. Professional, even. But I wasn't blind.
I found myself staring at the silver crest stitched into the shoulder of one of the guards standing post near the helm, and I muttered under my breath, "…what the hell is going on?"
Later that evening, when the stars shimmered faintly against the inverted dome of the world and the hum of the formation engines softened to a low thrum, I cornered Xue Xin by the side rail. The clouds passed lazily below, and the desert wind was crisp and dry.
"Hey," I said, arms folded. "Be honest with me. What's going on with your girls?"
She blinked at me with that calm, detached elegance that she always wore like armor. "What do you mean, Sir Da Wei?"
"You know what I mean. The Phoenix Guard. They keep flirting with me." I jabbed a thumb toward the main deck, where three of her subordinates were laughing at something and throwing me glances that were a little too sharp, a little too practiced. "They weren't exactly subtle about it."
A hint of amusement ghosted across her lips. "Ah. That."
"That?" I raised an eyebrow.
She stepped beside me, placing both hands on the rail. Her voice was smooth, matter-of-fact. "The Imperial Phoenix Guard is an all-women unit. Most of us joined for two reasons: loyalty to the Empire, and devotion to His Majesty."
"Devotion to…" I frowned. "So, like a cult?"
"No," she said immediately. "We are warriors, trained from youth to fight and die for the Emperor's cause. We are not mindless. But loyalty breeds its own… traditions."
I gave her a sideways look. "Uh-huh. Traditions that involve trying to get into my pants?"
She didn't flinch. "One function of the Phoenix Guard is as a reserve pool for His Majesty's future consorts."
I nearly choked. "I'm sorry. What now?" Okay, I knew this little factoid already from Xin Yune, but hearing it for real and confirmed in my face had a different impact.
She tilted her head slightly, as if describing the weather. "We are trained not only in war, but in etiquette, courtly manners, and… companionship. It is considered a great honor to be chosen by His Majesty. However, His Majesty has not touched a single member of the Phoenix Guard."
"That's…" I hesitated. "Wait, is this that old story? The one where Nongmin was a thousand-year-old virgin until a century ago?"
Xue Xin nodded solemnly. "Yes. It caused concern among the inner court. Pressure from the Seven Houses and the old nobility was immense. The Phoenix Guard trained and waited… and waited. Some of the oldest members passed without ever being called."
"Then…" I ran a hand down my face, slowly connecting the dots. "He gives you all to me? What, like some sort of reverse imperial dowry?"
Her eyes flicked to mine. "Not given. Assigned. To ensure your protection and cooperation as an esteemed ally of the Empire."
I gave a dry laugh, but it didn't feel like amusement. "Sure. And the part where you suggested warming my bed?"
She shrugged. "I serve the Empire. If that is what keeps you content and on our side, it would not be dishonorable."
I stared at her. "Are you seriously telling me Nongmin just upgraded his honeypot strategy by sending me a flying harem of elite warrior women?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Which said enough.
I buried my face in my hands. "That's so cruel… bro, I slept with your mom!"
Xue Xin raised an eyebrow at that.
"Never mind," I muttered quickly.
She continued without missing a beat, "Only those acknowledged by the Emperor may marry a member of the Imperial Phoenix Guard. That acknowledgment, we believe, has been extended to you."
"Which means…?"
"Which means some of the girls see throwing themselves at you as a glorious act. A way to serve the Empire in both body and soul."
I stared at her blankly. "Yeah. I… don't get it."
She gave a faint smile, the first real expression I'd seen on her in hours. "You're not meant to. But we do."
I turned, leaning my elbows on the rail and staring down at the clouds as they drifted like lazy ghosts below us.
Of course Nongmin would do this. It was exactly the kind of convoluted, dramatic, emotionally charged move he'd pull: offer me resources, ships, elite warriors… and then lace it all with this kind of tangled political intimacy.
I had too much on my mind already. The girls weren't responding to Voice Chat. Alice, Joan, Lu Gao… wherever they were, I couldn't reach them. And now I had to worry about seductive death-commandos offering themselves up because they thought it would help the Empire?
What was I even doing here?
132 A Kingdom of Sand and Stone
We arrived at our destination short of twenty-one days. Considering the normal pace of sky travel over three continents, that should've been impossible. But then again, not many people had the same skillset or stubbornnessas I did.
How did we manage it? Simple. I spammed the Bless Spell like a lunatic.
It just worked… well, at the expense of our Formation Specialists.
Every few hours, I cast it on the fleet, empowering the ships' durability and reducing the cooldown time between spatial warps. Most cultivators treated spells like rare treasures, used only at opportune moments. Me? I treated them like fast food coupons: slap one on, move faster, repeat. If the mana cost didn't kill me, nothing would.
I learned my lesson from my trip from the Riverfall Continent to the Imperial Capital. There was no way I'd be engaging on detours this time. I'm all business!
Thirteen flying boats… each shaped like the wing of a golden hawk… landed with a smooth whir, sand kicking up along the edges of a greenish patch near the oasis. The Kingdom of Promised Dunes' southern outpost stretched beside it like a jewel embedded in the desert. A full-sized castle, with carved sandstone walls and lattice balconies, loomed beside the water's edge.
For a military outpost, the place looked more like a royal vacation home.
A small unit of soldiers stood waiting in formation, draped in azure silks over chainmail. Spears in hand, but lowered respectfully. The golden crest of a sun within a triangle shimmered on their breastplates, matching the banners fluttering above the walls.
The Phoenix Guard moved with smooth discipline, setting down the ship's plank with a soft clunk. Then they stepped aside, ready to form a path.
Old General Bai Zheme stood beside me on the left. His war fan, taller than a man, was strapped across his back like the wing of some sleeping beast. Dust clung to his iron-gray hair and wrinkled brow, but the fire in his eyes hadn't dulled. He didn't speak, just gave me a small nod.
To my right, Jin Yi flicked a few stray folds of his robe straight. A diplomat attached to our group by the Empire: charming, silver-tongued, and, in my honest opinion, a little too moisturized for desert travel.
And at the head of our group, glowing like a bonfire, stood Xue Xin.
Her presence was unmistakable. Qi blazed around her feet with every step she took, turning sand into molten glass in her wake. Her crimson cloth fluttered behind her like an imperial banner.
She stopped at the edge of the plank, cast a sharp look down at the soldiers below, then lifted her chin.
"Announcing the arrival of Lord Da Wei of the Riverfall Realm and Honored Friend of His Majesty, the Emperor," she proclaimed, her voice amplified by qi. "Wielder of the Divine Power, Slayer of the Abyss, He Who Defeated the Hell's Gate!"
Huh? That was new to me… Lord of the Riverfall Realm? That was too much of a jump, wasn't it?
The soldiers didn't flinch at the titles. Either they'd been informed in advance, or they were just very, very good at standing still. Good for them. As for me? I felt conflicted, embarrassed, and awkward. Surely, Ren Jin wouldn't be angry at me, right? Ugh… I'd have to give Nongmin an earful once I return to the Empire.
Xue Xin turned to me with a faint smirk. She seemed to like announcing me as if I were the protagonist of an opera.
I stepped forward. Heat still radiated from the ground she'd walked on, the glass under my boots crunching faintly as I moved. Jin Yi and General Bai flanked me, the wind catching our cloaks just right. I'll admit, it felt kind of dramatic.
"Lord Da Wei," a man said from the front of the soldier line. He had bronze skin and a beard like a sculpted wave. His armor gleamed in the sun. "On behalf of Her Radiant Majesty, Queen Liu Yana of the Promised Dunes, welcome to our outpost. I am Captain Han Lun. We've prepared quarters and refreshments."
"Appreciated," I replied with a polite nod. "We made good time."
Han Lun tilted his head slightly. "So we've heard. The stars bent strangely in the skies these past weeks. Our Seers assumed a greater force was in motion."
"Just some light spellwork," I said, casually. Jin Yi coughed into his sleeve to hide a laugh.
The captain smiled faintly and stepped aside. "Then allow me to lead the way."
We followed him along a stone path bordered by water channels, an elaborate irrigation system turning desert into paradise. My eyes wandered toward the castle. Palm trees swayed within the walls, and I caught sight of a few distant silhouettes moving behind lattice windows.
This was no ordinary outpost. And we hadn't been summoned here just for tea and pleasantries.
"Stay sharp," I murmured to Bai Zheme and Jin Yi, my voice low.
"Always," the old general said without turning.
Jin Yi just smiled. "The desert hides many treasures… and even more daggers. However, I believe we are safe." There was no need to be vigilant, he seemed to say.
He wasn't wrong. But I wasn't here to collect daggers. With the same line of reasoning, I wasn't here for an adventure. I was here for my people. For the ones waiting in the sands beyond, and the ones still lost beneath it.
"Anyways, no fighting, guys," I reminded everyone. "We won't be here for long."
We stopped in front of a carved sandstone doorway flanked by twin minarets, each topped with a dome of turquoise crystal that shimmered beneath the sun. Intricate sigils traced across the doors in veins of lapis and gold, humming faintly with defensive enchantments. Whoever enchanted this place hadn't been cheap.
Han Lun turned toward us with a confident smile and raised his voice, projecting deep authority that echoed through the corridor.
"Honored guests from the Grand Ascension Empire," he boomed, "prepare yourselves. You are about to stand in the presence of Her Radiant Majesty, Queen Liu Yana, ruler of the Promised Dunes and Guardian of the Golden Oasis."
Okay. That escalated quickly.
I blinked once. Then twice.
Queen Liu Yana?
We were being received by the actual monarch?
Oh man, Nongmin's predictions came true… Of course, it did…
Still…
I'd expected some dusty old vizier or a high-ranking minister, maybe a cousin of a cousin with a fancy title. But the Queen herself?
Jin Yi stiffened beside me. His normally immaculate smile faltered for half a second… just enough for me to catch it.
Even Xue Xin, firestorm that she was, flicked her gaze sideways. Her mouth twitched, not quite a frown, but far from calm.
And then there was General Bai Zheme.
Stone-faced, spine straight, hands folded behind his back. The man looked like someone had told him we were going to meet a shopkeeper. Unbothered didn't even begin to describe it.
"Looks like someone pulled strings," I muttered under my breath.
"Or she's just curious," Jin Yi said, forcing his easy tone back into place. "You have warped across half the continent like a divine comet. That tends to draw attention. Thankfully, our letter to request entry to their borders came first, before we did, or we would have a scandal on our hands."
"Good thing I combed my hair," I deadpanned.
"That's your take on this?" Jin Yi looked halfway suffering from insanity at the moment. "Please, can you take the situation more seriously?"
With a low groan of ancient hinges, the double doors began to open.
A breeze rolled out from within, cool and scented with sweet spices and lotus smoke. The hall beyond was no less impressive than the gates: wide and airy, with light cascading down from polished glass panels high above. The floor was smooth marble dyed the color of honey, and a crimson carpet stretched from the threshold all the way to the dais ahead.
And on that dais, seated beneath a golden canopy, was Her Radiant Majesty.
Queen Liu Yana was younger than I expected. No gray hair, no hunched posture, no croaking voice. She looked maybe mid-thirties, though with cultivators that could mean anything between twenty and a thousand. Her eyes were sharp and dark as obsidian, but her smile was warm and unreadable. She wore robes of flowing sapphire with sun motifs stitched in silver, and a veil of sheer gold thread trailed behind her like sunlight made fabric.
A dozen attendants stood in silence on either side of the throne, eyes lowered, breath quiet. The air felt charged, like the moments before a storm.
We stepped inside.
Xue Xin resumed her place at the front, this time silent as the grave. Jin Yi walked with his hands behind his back, a courtly half-bow in his step. Bai Zheme's footsteps didn't echo, somehow… either he knew a trick or the marble respected his presence.
I followed just behind Xue Xin, letting my presence settle over the room like a shadow. I didn't smile. I didn't bow yet either. Not until I understood the game.
The Queen spoke first.
"So this is the one," she said, voice like velvet over iron. "The Lord Da Wei, who stole the fire from the sky and scattered the shadow of the abyss."
I raised a brow. "That's me. Though the title inflation wasn't my idea."
Liu Yana's smile widened, showing perfect teeth. "Then I welcome you, Lord of the Riverfall Realm. You arrive with storm and blessing alike."
A courteous enough greeting. Not hostile. Not deferential, either. Balanced, like a blade's edge.
I gave a slight bow. "And I thank you for the reception, Your Radiance. I admit, I wasn't expecting a royal audience."
Her fingers curled lightly around the armrest of her throne. "Nor was I expecting my stars to shift overnight and light a path straight from the Empire to my gates. Yet here we are."
Fair point.
I glanced at Jin Yi. He offered the tiniest nod. Diplomatically, this was now his ball to juggle.
He stepped forward with a smooth flourish. "Her Radiance honors us. We are here in peace, on a matter of exploration and mutual benefit. Our lord seeks no war, only knowledge… and perhaps, allies."
Queen Liu Yana tilted her head, appraising him, then me. "So it is said. But in these lands, even peace comes at a price."
That caught my attention.
I took a step forward. "Then name it."
Her eyes locked on mine. "Not yet. First… we dine."
She raised a hand, and one of the attendants bowed and began whispering into a rune-inscribed shell.
Behind me, Xue Xin let out a quiet exhale. Bai Zheme didn't move, but I could tell he approved. Jin Yi relaxed by a margin.
And me?
I started calculating how many antidotes I had left in my Item Box.
Because if we were going to play desert diplomacy, I'd better be ready for sandstorms, sweet tea, and a hundred veiled half-truths.
"To the banquet hall, dear guests," announced Han Lun as he led the way, theatrically motioning for the veiled pathway. "The Promised Dunes wish you fine dining."
The banquet hall was smaller than the audience chamber ,but no less luxurious. Pillars of white stone arched toward a domed ceiling painted with scenes of golden sandstorms and phoenixes rising from glass dunes. The table was long, narrow, and made of some iridescent wood. It glistened beneath plates of exotic cuisine that could've shamed any imperial feast.
The first dish to arrive was a bowl of crimson soup, steam curling upward like wisps of dragon breath. Floating within were translucent lotus seeds that pulsed faintly with qi. "Phoenix Broth," an attendant said as he set it down. "Heals spiritual fatigue."
Next came a platter of roasted dune hare, the meat lacquered with a glaze made from nectarfruit and firepepper. I took one bite and felt my blood circulate faster, like my veins had just downed a warm shot of liquid courage.
Then came sand clams soaked in moonlight vinegar, a grainy sashimi of rainbow-scaled fish wrapped in pickled cacti petals, and finally, dessert: sun-petaled cakes filled with custard that tasted like sweet wind and starlight. The last one literally shimmered when I bit into it.
They were all magical in their own way. Not just in flavor, but effect. One dish warmed the body, another soothed the soul, a third sharpened the mind. It was a pharmacological symphony disguised as fine dining.
I chewed slowly, gracefully, resisting the urge to inhale it all like a starving beast.
Last time I'd spoken with Nongmin, before this whole expedition began, he'd drilled into me the importance of presentation, especially during high-level diplomatic meals. The lesson had started with a five-hour lecture on posture and ended with him stabbing a roasted duck with chopsticks and screaming, "Even if it tastes divine, do not eat like a boar in heat!"
Charming guy, really.
Still, the lessons paid off. I sat straight, I took small portions, I nodded politely when the Queen's attendants described each dish. I even dabbed my mouth with the stupid little embroidered cloth provided. No idea if that was supposed to be used, but I went for it.
Midway through the meal, I set my chopsticks down and looked toward Queen Liu Yana. "Your Radiance," I said with a respectful dip of my head, "this feast… is astonishing. I'm not exaggerating when I say every bite feels like a new realm."
She gave a soft chuckle. "You flatter easily, Lord Da Wei."
"Not at all," I said. "I'm simply weak to good food. Mortal or spiritual, it doesn't matter. If it's delicious, I'll sing its praises."
Jin Yi coughed into his wine, likely remembering the time I spent an hour praising street noodles during a meeting with the Ministry of Agriculture… a few weeks ago.
Yeah, haggling for our logistical supply had been tough even with the Emperor's token.
For some reason, the Ministry of Agriculture hated my guts.
Queen Liu Yana lifted her own cup, something amber and sweet-scented. "A man of appetite, then. That is rare in these halls."
I smiled. "Appetite is half the reason I move forward. You can train your body, your mind, even your spirit… but a man without desire is just a statue. Not that I claim I am full of desire."
Her eyes glittered at that, not offended, not amused, just thoughtful.
Another sip. Another bite.
And then… nothing.
No burning in my throat. No paralysis. No bleeding gums. No illusions or dream poison or delayed death fog.
I blinked. Swallowed.
Wait a minute.
There was no poison in this food?
I glanced down at my half-eaten sun-petal cake as if it had just betrayed me.
What was I thinking?
Of course, they wouldn't poison the food. We were guests. Respected guests. Political tools, maybe, but not enemies. This wasn't some back-alley sect or rebel den.
I mentally slapped myself. Relax, Da Wei. Not everyone's trying to murder you.
Bai Zheme let out a low, approving hum as he bit into a strip of seared cactus boar. Xue Xin had already finished her second helping of the hare. Jin Yi was finally beginning to look like himself again, sipping wine with an ease I envied.
So, I took another bite.
Then another.
And as the courses continued and the conversation drifted toward pleasantries and trade roads, I let myself enjoy it. Because whatever came next, whatever favor, demand, or offer the Queen intended to bring forward, I had a full stomach, a clear mind, and a faint sugar glaze on my lips.
Not a bad start to diplomacy, all things considered.
The plates had been cleared. The scent of roasted dune hare and starlight custard still lingered faintly in the air, but the mood had shifted. Gone was the gentle laughter and polite conversation. Queen Liu Yana's posture had stiffened, not obviously, but enough that even I could sense the turn in the winds.
"So," she began, swirling the amber liquor in her crystalline cup with the grace of someone utterly disinterested in its taste, "what, exactly, is the reason for your visitation?"
Her eyes were sharp. Not hostile, just focused, in that way predators looked at things they hadn't quite decided to kill yet.
Jin Yi cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. The script we'd prepared back in the capital, polished to perfection through hours of debate and second-guessing, was finally up for performance.
"Her Radiant Majesty," Jin Yi began, "our presence here is borne of both honor and circumstance. Lord Da Wei was recently declared an Honored Friend of the Grand Ascension Empire… and, by decree of His Majesty Emperor Nongmin, a sworn brother of the throne."
I tried not to grimace at that part. It was true, technically. But emotionally? Spiritually? Sibling-ly? No. Just no.
Jin Yi continued without missing a beat. "This recognition is not without merit. Lord Da Wei has repeatedly risked life and limb to safeguard the Empire, most notably during the Hell's Gate crisis on Deepmoor Continent, where he personally repelled an entire legion of hellspawn invaders."
Queen Liu Yana raised an eyebrow at that. I couldn't tell if she was impressed or skeptical.
"And as a reward," Jin Yi said, puffing himself up slightly, "His Majesty granted Lord Da Wei the freedom to travel anywhere within the Empire's allied territories… for rest, recuperation, and enjoyment with his… ah… concubines."
I blinked.
Wait.
What?
Concubines?
Jin Yi glanced at me, only briefly, but the damage was done. The table had gone still. Bai Zheme's wine cup froze halfway to his lips. Xue Xin tilted her head, suppressing either a laugh or a cough, I wasn't sure which.
"From his retinue," Jin Yi added quickly, though the emphasis made things worse. "Namely… the Phoenix Guard."
I gave him a side-eye like I was going to throw him out the window.
I could feel the Queen's gaze stabbing into me now, colder than the moonlight vinegar we had with the sand clams. Her expression had twisted slightly, from neutrality into something approaching distaste.
And I? I sat there, smiling like an idiot and trying to pretend I wasn't internally screaming.
My mind drifted back to the conversation I'd had with Nongmin before setting out.
I'd joked—joked!—about being declared his stepdad just to troll him. I wanted to see him squirm, make that stony imperial expression crack a little. Instead, he shrugged, ignored the "stepdad" suggestion entirely, and decided to pull the "Honored Friend" and "Sworn Brother" card like he was flipping through a political playbook.
I didn't even think of him as a brother. More like… sworn father? Yeah. That felt more accurate. Stern. Infuriating. Questionably wise. The kind of guy who tosses you off a cliff to teach you how to fly and then says you're welcome.
And then he pulled this… a diplomatic maneuver disguised as a vacation. Tossed me a harem, slapped a fake reason into the papers, and used gallivanting with women as a legitimate pretext to sneak me into the Promised Dunes.
Xin Yune, wherever you are… our little Nongmin's growing up. Becoming mischievous. Maybe even... playful.
I wasn't sure whether to be proud or terrified.
Queen Liu Yana set her cup down with a soft clink. "So, let me summarize," she said, voice dry as desert wind. "You've come to our borders not to negotiate, not to offer alliance or trade, but to frolic in my kingdom under the guise of imperial leisure… with a harem of guards, no less."
"Well…" I started.
"You dare approach the Promised Dunes like it's some kind of brothel oasis?" Her tone didn't rise, but it was sharper than before. "And now you expect warm welcome, free passage, and access to our lands without so much as an offering?"
I opened my mouth again. Closed it.
Jin Yi, for once, had the sense to remain quiet.
Xue Xin turned her head ever so slightly. I could see the glow of heat qi gathering behind her eyes.
Bai Zheme scratched his beard, like this was all very amusing.
The Queen exhaled through her nose and leaned forward just a hair. "If you want anything from the Promised Dunes, Lord Da Wei, you'll need to speak in the language we understand… compensation."
Her smile was thin. "Gold, knowledge, favors… or something else. We don't trade in empty titles."
I nodded slowly. "Fair enough," I said, then gave a crooked smile. "But to clarify, I didn't ask to be declared a sworn brother. And I didn't ask for the harem either. That was just… the Emperor being the Emperor."
Queen Liu Yana leaned back, studying me. I think she believed me. Ah, I could only hope so…
"Well then," she said, voice cooled but not entirely appeased. "Let's hope your offerings are more sensible than your reasons."
It was time to negotiate.