The wasteland of glaciers fell silent once more, the towering ice walls dissolving under Echo’s spiritual energy.

Against the icy backdrop, a translucent longsword diligently worked the ground, like a hoe tirelessly cultivating the soil during planting season.

Beneath the ice, a long, Error ascended, carrying two passengers as they burst through the frozen surface. Echo’s silver hair leaped in the air, refracting a clear, crystalline sheen.

At some point, the wind over the glacier had ceased. Bright sunlight illuminated the ice, revealing a unique sense of peace and serenity. Echo patted Error and leaped down. Nine Heavens shot out from beneath the ice with a whoosh and returned smoothly to its sheath.

Echo crouched, counting the fragments dropped by the Stone Giant. “One, two, three…” She looked up at Seraphine, who was seated on the Fire Rock Dragon. “Seraphine, Nie Xiu lied. He had four hundred and forty fragments.”

Seraphine’s legs swayed beneath her skirts as she smiled. “Not bad. That’s quite an auspicious number.”

“It’s a pity about this Secret Realm’s no-private-duels rule,” Seraphine remarked with feigned regret, a flash of coldness in her eyes. “Otherwise, I would have properly conversed with Fellow Daoist Nie.”

“Nie Xiu is the personal disciple of the Jade Cauldron Sect Master. That Master is late Soul Transformation stage, just one step from Void Refinement. Since we forced Nie Xiu out of the second trial, he’ll be resentful and likely ask his master to intervene,” Seraphine told Echo. “When that time comes, Fellow Daoist Xi will need to work even harder.”

Fellow Daoist Xi was crouched on the ground building two small snowmen, making them hold hands. She looked at her creation and stated honestly, “Nie Xiu withdrew voluntarily.”

With three months left, there was time for another “free-range pig” to fatten up. Echo had been very gentle in asking NieXiu to surrender the fragments, but he had not been cooperative.

Seraphine smiled warmly. “Exactly right.”

It truly was Nie Xiu’s fault.

However, the two of them made a discovery: fragments carried by a cultivator who voluntarily withdrew would materialize as a Stone Giant matching that cultivator’s cultivation level.

“It’s not just voluntary withdrawals,” Seraphine commented coolly, her gaze sweeping over the vast glacier. “Cultivators who unfortunately perish in the Secret Realm must follow the same pattern.”

Echo took a small purple flower from her storage ring and stuck it on one snowman’s head before standing and dusting off her clothes.

“Seraphine, I’ll protect you,” she said, looking up at her.

Seraphine’s gaze settled on Echo. Today, Echo had unusually chosen to wear a rose-pink robe, making her look like a tinted cloud floating above the ice. The sky was clear, and this wandering cloud had settled in the icy expanse, making one irresistibly want to pull her close.

Seraphine lowered her eyes and let out a soft laugh, patting the space beside her. Error curiously turned her head for a look, then turned back to chew on a nearby glacier out of boredom.

Without needing Seraphine to move, the pink cloud gently drifted up to join her.

“Let’s go.”

The crimson dragon carried the pair away, leaving only the two snowmen standing shoulder-to-shoulder, holding hands and smiling toward the sun.

⁂

A man in scarlet robes walked along a mountain path, his steps unhurried and deliberate as he studied the road beneath his feet.

The forest was eerily silent, as if some massive predator lurked within, cold eyes watching this delivered prey through gaps in the foliage.

“The sage said: ‘All things in life move like sudden gusts of wind, nothing moves without changing, nothing exists without shifting,’” Wen Chunsheng murmured. “No matter how carefully we calculate, there are always unexpected turns. I can only assess the situation and adapt accordingly.”

He sighed and stood still.

The moment his words ended, several dark green spikes burst from the forest, their tips gleaming with cold light as they shot toward him like arrows. Wen Chunsheng neither retreated nor dodged. With wet thunks, the spikes pierced his body, sending him flying as blood sprayed everywhere.

“Cough, ptah—” He spat blood, squinting against the harsh sunlight.

From the forest emerged a spirit beast with spikes covering its back, following the scent of blood as it gazed hungrily at the half-dead human on the ground.

Feeling the earth tremble beneath him, Wen Chunsheng smiled gently and crushed a Golden Dragon fragment between his fingers.

A golden door instantly appeared beneath him. Wen Chunsheng fell through, vanishing from the Secret Realm. The spirit beast that had suddenly lost its prey roared in fury. It stared at the Golden Dragon fragments on the ground, preparing to devour them when the earth suddenly shook.

“ROAR!”

Terrifying pressure spread outward. The previously enraged spirit beast’s legs went weak as it whimpered in distress. It didn’t even have the courage to flee, watching helplessly as rocks rolled across the ground to envelop the golden fragments.

A massive Stone Giant appeared in the mountain forest. It swung its fist, striking the spirit beast that wasn’t even as large as its knuckle.

The creature shrieked once before its body crashed through several trees, landing as a broken, lifeless mess with all its spikes shattered.

Cultivators drawn by the commotion flew over, spotting the enormous figure moving through the mountains. Their initial excitement vanished instantly as the Stone Giant’s overwhelming pressure hit them.

“No good—how can there be a Void Refinement Stage Stone Giant!”

They turned and fled without hesitation.

⁂

With less than three months remaining, the crucial final phase had arrived. The arena buzzed with renewed activity as spectating cultivators and sect elders emerged from seclusion, watching the sky’s gateway with expressions ranging from excitement to anxiety.

Suddenly, one of the doors opened and spat out a blood-soaked figure. The crowd rose in alarmed surprise.

“Which sect’s disciple is that?”

“It’s a male cultivator—is he still alive?”

City Lord Zhao Qingcheng, who had been reviewing official documents at her seat, quickly set down her vermillionbrush. “Hurry! Save him!”

The medical cultivators on standby rushed forward, but they were beaten by a group of figures in jade robes and feathered crowns who leaped down the steps to the fallen man’s side.

“Senior Brother?”

“It’s Senior Brother Wen from Virtue Central Peak!”

The watching crowd murmured in understanding: “So it’s a Luanyang Palace disciple!”

Discussion rippled through the arena.

“This is the fourth cultivator to withdraw this month. I wonder what his skill level was, and just how dangerous it is inside that realm! They say once you hear the Dao, ascension follows swiftly, but from what I can see, this chance at enlightenment isn’t something ordinary people can seize.”

Everyone nodded as they watched the Luanyang Palace disciples frantically administering pills to the bloody figure.

Another spectator added: “If it were me, I’d risk my life to stay in that realm and fight for a chance to enter the Insight Academy Palace! If I died, there’s always the next reincarnation cycle.”

“Haha! But who knows if you’d be born human or demon in the next life!”

The cultivators launched into philosophical debates on the spot.

On the ground, Wen Chunsheng coughed up blood as he swallowed healing pills.

A medical cultivator whispered: “Bear with it!”

As they extracted the spikes from his body, each removal left Wen Chunsheng barely clinging to life, sustained only by the pills. The medic examined the spiritual energy residue on the spikes. “Based on the spiritual traces, you encountered a Nascent Soul Stage hedgehog beast.”

The Luanyang Palace disciple helping staunch Wen Chunsheng’s wounds was pale as death. “Senior Brother Wen is only late Foundation Establishment—how could he possibly fight a Nascent Soul spirit beast! Thank goodness you withdrew from the trial in time, or you’d have lost your life!”

Wen Chunsheng’s mouth was full of blood as he mumbled: “Sorry to… disappoint everyone…”

“Don’t say such things, Senior Brother! We’ll take you home to recover properly,” the Luanyang Palace disciple sighed, persuading him. “Having your life is more important than anything else.”

“Thank you… everyone.” Wen Chunsheng managed a difficult smile before his eyes closed and he lost consciousness.

High above, Zhao Qingcheng watched the anxious disciples carrying their injured comrade away. In her busy schedule, she suddenly remembered she had a son still in the Secret Realm. Belated maternal concern filled her heart.

“Please watch over things here,” she told the Insight Academy Palace disciple standing nearby.

“Of course.”

Zhao Qingcheng smiled slightly, then with a flash of movement, appeared in a separate courtyard within the city.

Black tiles and white walls nestled among blooming flowers and verdant willows. In this heavenly garden, a pool of emerald water held several white lotus blossoms.

Within a pavilion, the Insight Academy Palace’s headmaster, Ink-Trace Venerable Jingxing, played chess with his disciple, while incense burned in a nearby brazier, sending up curling wisps of smoke.

Zhao Qingcheng walked across the water’s surface into the pavilion, bowing respectfully to Jingxing, who quickly gestured for her to forgo the formalities.

“Venerable One, with so little time remaining in the second trial, another disciple was injured and withdrew today,” ZhaoQingcheng smiled. “I wonder how conditions are currently inside the Secret Realm?”

Ink-Trace Venerable replied gently: “I understand your concern. The Twin Dragon Secret Realm has now recognized a master. As its former keeper, I can no longer observe conditions within, nor do I know what’s happening inside.”

Both Zhao Qingcheng and Lanzhi, who was playing chess with the Venerable, started in surprise.

“Such a thing has happened?” Zhao Qingcheng exclaimed.

The Twin Dragon Secret Realm was legendary—it had no entry restrictions by cultivation level, but was correspondingly dangerous, with spirit creatures of various power levels roaming within.

Zhao Qingcheng had assumed most withdrawals would come from Foundation Establishment cultivators, but the first to voluntarily withdraw had been a Nascent Soul Stage cultivator.

After that came one Golden Core and one Foundation Establishment cultivator.

Zhao Qingcheng couldn’t help but think of Jingxing’s earlier words about fortune and fate, feeling deeply moved.

Lanzhi considered carefully before speaking: “The cultivators who qualified for the second trial are all outstanding individuals from across the five continents—exceptional in talent, ability, and luck. For the Twin Dragon Secret Realm to recognize a master, that person must have something truly unique.”

Jingxing nodded, smiling at Zhao Qingcheng. “Though the Twin Dragon Secret Realm hasn’t been used since the great war, before that conflict, our academy’s disciples trained within it. Most of the extremely dangerous beasts were eliminated. Though several hundred years have passed, it’s not as perilous as you might imagine—it comes down to these young people’s luck and choices.”

Zhao Qingcheng breathed a sigh of relief, sending distant maternal concern toward Zhao Hangyi while hoping he’d encounter only creatures weaker than himself.

Seeing she had no urgent business, Jingxing smiled. “City Lord Zhao, your heart is with your son. I won’t keep you for chess.”

Hearing this, Zhao Qingcheng’s expression changed as she laughed heartily. “Thank you for your kind consideration, Venerable One! I still have important matters to handle and must take my leave.”

She glanced sympathetically at Lanzhi, thinking how exhausting it must be to serve as the Venerable’s disciple and be dragged into chess games every day.

And always losing.

Tsk tsk.

After she left, Lanzhi looked up at Jingxing, who smiled and asked: “You want to know who contracted with the Twin Dragon Secret Realm?”

Lanzhi said quietly: “Though I don’t know who it is, they must be someone with extraordinary destiny.”

Jingxing raised his gaze to the Twin Dragon gateway floating above Sunset Glow City, his lips curving upward.

“Extraordinary destiny indeed…”

⁂

BOOM!

CRASH!

WHOOSH—

The world was vast and hazy, everything covered in a layer of frost from the bone-chilling cold. When Echo approached with her hair swaying, Seraphine observed: “You haven’t been making it snow during your recent battles.”

“Practice has elevated my mastery of the Sword Immortal Arts to a new level,” Echo explained. “I can now control sword energy and sword intent.”

She demonstrated by spinning Nine Heavens in her hand, performing an elegant and oddly familiar sword flourish. “My physical coordination has also improved significantly.”

Not making snow also improved visibility during combat, and she didn’t have to maintain barriers to keep snowflakes out of her mouth. It was excellent progress! She gave herself a brilliant mental thumbs-up.

Actually, all she had learned was how to perform a simple sword flourish.

Seraphine’s mouth twitched as she applauded. “Remarkable! What tremendous progress indeed!”

“Once we enter the Insight Academy Palace, between training sessions, I’ll teach you calligraphy to improve your physical coordination even further.”

Echo clapped happily. “Thank you, Seraphine! I’ll study hard!”

Seraphine said teasingly: “No, it’s purely for the sake of my eyesight.”

Echo understood and sighed. “Actually, I’ve been trying really hard.”

But this soft, squishy brush-head wasn’t as obedient as data. It was quite troubling for a system.

When Seraphine heard this, her expression grew even more surprised. “Oh my, that makes it sound even more pitiful?”

The thumbs-up above Echo’s head turned into a little fist that she shook at the sky. She patted her chest determinedly. “Learning from shame leads to courage.”

This system will improve.

Watching Echo encourage herself with that bright smile, Seraphine felt her heart soften unexpectedly.

Since she was the one making Echo show such expressions, she felt a mixture of self-satisfaction and something sweet and complex brewing in her chest. Unable to resist, she reached out and brushed the back of her hand against Echo’s cheek.

Echo looked at Seraphine questioningly and touched her face.

Was there something dirty there?

Something foolish.

Seraphine laughed softly. “Alright, open the map quickly. Where should we go next? You caught the big prize this time, so I should handle the next one.”

“Okay.” Echo obediently pulled up the map, which showed various symbols marking locations—miniature Stone Giant icons indicating where they’d defeated them, complete with cultivation levels and fragment counts noted.

Seraphine scanned the map, considering their next destination, when suddenly a flare shot up in the distance. A golden-red phoenix soared into the sky, transforming into a massive phantom.

Seraphine’s expression changed instantly as she grabbed Echo’s arm. Her previous relaxed mood vanished, replaced by grave concern. “That’s a Luanyang Palace distress signal. Let’s go!”