CHAPTER 414: CHAPTER 414: YOU HAVE TO SURVIVE. THAT IS WHAT MATTERS RIGHT NOW.

The night stretched endlessly around her — quiet, cold, watching. The moon hung high, bathing Isabella in a pale, ghostly light that softened her anger but not the ache behind it. The breeze tugged at her dress, made her hair dance around her shoulders, and somewhere in the trees, a lone owl hooted like it, too, could sense her unrest.

Bubu’s screen floated before her, flickering faintly. The little system had been unusually silent since her outburst — no teasing quips, no sarcastic comments, just the faint hum of its energy cutting through the stillness.

Then, softly, it spoke — and for once, it didn’t sound like a system at all.

[Isabella,] Bubu began, its tone careful, steady, gentle. [There is a reason I persuaded you that day to accept the necklace.]

Isabella froze, her arms crossing instinctively as if shielding herself from invisible claws. Her jaw tightened. "Don’t," she whispered, her voice shaking despite her best effort to steady it. "Don’t talk about that."

[You have not begun cultivation,] Bubu continued, undeterred. [You are still carrying the same weak human body you transmigrated with. That mountain —] the screen flickered, and for a split second, its voice faltered, like it was afraid to continue, [— it feeds on energy. It consumes everything alive that dares to approach it. You lasted barely a day the last time you were there, and it had already drained more than half of your life essence.]

The words hit her harder than she expected.

Her brows knitted, her lips parting slightly. "You’re exaggerating."

[Am I?] Bubu countered softly. [Then why did you faint for three days when you came back last time?]

Isabella’s throat went dry.

She didn’t have an answer for that.

She remembered the pain, though — that strange, invisible pull that had left her breathless and cold. The way her vision dimmed. The way her heart felt like it was being strangled from the inside. She remembered all of it.

And yet...

Her pride wouldn’t let her admit it.

"So what you’re saying," she said finally, folding her arms tighter, "is that I can’t go unless I use his necklace."

[Correct,] Bubu replied. [Without the necklace, your body will not last an hour.]

Her jaw clenched. The thought of touching that necklace — of wearing something that still smelled like him — made her chest ache in ways she couldn’t put into words. It wasn’t just jewelry; it was a reminder. Of him. Of the mark. Of everything she was trying to forget.

"Fine," she muttered, forcing out a dry laugh. "Then why don’t we just make a new one? A custom one. One that doesn’t belong to him."

Bubu hesitated.

[Host, a custom artifact with that level of protective enchantment would require a minimum of 9,000 points.]

Isabella blinked, stunned. "Nine thousand?"

[You currently have 7,567.]

She almost laughed again, but it came out broken this time — somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion. "Perfect," she whispered. "Just perfect."

Isabella felt defeated—utterly, bone-deep defeated—because she knew there was no way she was going to use all her points. Not like this. Not for something that reminded her of him.

She wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the floating blue light that pulsed faintly in front of her. It wasn’t just about the points, not really. It was about what the necklace meant. About what it forced her to remember. Every second she stood there, the world seemed to whisper his name back to her—the echo of Cyrus’s voice still soft in her mind, the warmth of his touch still burned into her skin.

The air felt too still, too heavy, pressing against her chest.

Her shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of her like air from a punctured vessel. She could feel it — that creeping heaviness in her chest, the kind that sat there like a stone no matter how deep she breathed.

Bubu hovered closer, its usual cheerful glow dimmed to a faint, soft blue. For a long moment, it just hovered there, silent. Then, quietly, it said —

[Isabella, I know this is sudden for you.]

Isabella’s eyes flicked up, startled. It wasn’t like Bubu to sound so... human.

[And I know it’s too much. But you have to put yourself first. You have to survive. That is what matters right now.]

Its tone softened further, like a whisper beneath the night wind.

[And I have to put you first. That is my responsibility as your system.]

For a moment, Isabella couldn’t speak. Her throat tightened painfully as the words sank in. It wasn’t pity she heard in Bubu’s voice — it was care. Quiet, unwavering care from something that wasn’t even supposed to feel.

Her eyes burned, but she forced the tears back. She wouldn’t cry. Not again.

Slowly, her gaze drifted downward — to the necklace lying near her travel pack. The blue crystal nestled in its silver setting gleamed faintly, shaped like a crescent moon. The color reminded her of the sky just before dawn — deep, endless, and warm in a way that felt like safety.

It pulsed once, faintly, as if alive.

Isabella stared at it, her expression unreadable.

She remembered the hot afternoon he’d given it to her — the quiet way he had placed it in her hands, the way his eyes had softened when she’d hesitated. "It’ll protect you," he’d said. "Even when I’m not there."

Her chest squeezed.

She hated how much she remembered.

Slowly, she reached out, brushing her fingers against the pendant. The metal was cool against her skin, but the crystal’s light was warm — alive — almost like it recognized her touch.

Her breath caught.

She clenched her jaw, forcing the tremor out of her voice. "Alright," she whispered finally. "Hand it to me."

Bubu didn’t say anything — just floated quietly beside her, its glow steady but faintly flickering, as though mirroring her own unspoken hesitation.

Isabella’s fingers curled around the necklace.

In that moment, she sealed off every part of her heart that still ached. Every memory. Every echo of his name. Every trace of warmth he had ever left behind.

To her, it was just a necklace now.

No Cyrus. No love. No pain.

Just a tool to survive.

And as she fastened it around her neck, the pendant shimmered faintly — the crystal pulsing once like a heartbeat, before settling into silence.

She didn’t notice the tear that slid down her cheek until it hit the ground.