A Writer's Transmigration into the world of fantasy

"Why should it be seen as weak?" she countered. "My husband is carrying me inside my own house. Besides…" She glanced toward the windows where the last of the sunset had bled into deep indigo. "It's already dark. I don't see any problem."

She tilted her head, raising one eyebrow despite the clear lack of strength left in her body.

"Unless… you're embarrassed to carry me?"

Her tone was teasing, but there was a sharper edge beneath it.

Qin Wei opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Thea's arms tightened slightly around his neck.

"What?" she pressed, voice dropping to something softer, more vulnerable. "You were only comfortable carrying Luna in your arms—publicly showing your affection—but not your own principal wife?"

Qin Wei's steps slowed as Thea's words sank in, surprise flickering across his face like a sudden draft through an open window. "What?" he asked, voice low and genuinely startled. He had expected fatigue, maybe mild irritation from the strain she'd endured, but the sharp edge in her tone caught him off guard.

"No way…" He shook his head once, trying to retrace his own reasoning. "I was actually thinking about your stature, not me. You're Lady Thea Griffin—principal wife of the household. People talk. Rumors spread faster than mana through dry grass. I didn't want to add fuel to that fire."

Thea's lips parted as though to argue, but something else passed behind Qin Wei's eyes—realization dawning slow and bright. His gaze sharpened on her flushed cheeks, the way her eyes kept darting away, the tiny, unconscious tightening of her fingers against his nape.

"Don't tell me…" A small, almost disbelieving smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You're jealous?"

Thea's face ignited. Crimson bloomed from her ears down her neck in a fierce rush. "Who is jealous?" she snapped, voice pitching higher than she intended despite the exhaustion weighing every syllable. "I was simply asking you to take me to the main residence. Do we really have to turn such a simple thing into an argument? Forget it—I'll walk on my own."

She unwound her arms from his neck and pushed against his chest, trying to slide free.

Qin Wei didn't let her.

His hold firmed—gentle but unyielding—keeping her cradled securely against him. Thea's forward momentum carried her head back down to his shoulder; her hands instinctively looped around his neck again to keep balance. She huffed in frustration, breath warm against the side of his throat.

He let out a low, warm chuckle that vibrated through his chest and into hers.

"Alright… my dear wife," he said, smile softening every word. "If that's your wish, forget about the main residence. I'll even carry you like this all the way to your maternal home if you want. Through the gates. Past the guards. Across the whole damn city if it makes you happy."

Thea turned her face sharply away, cheeks still burning, lips pursed in a stubborn pout that did nothing to hide the way her heartbeat had quickened against his collarbone.

"Fine," she muttered, voice muffled against the fabric of his robe.

Qin Wei resumed walking, pace steady and unhurried through the long, lamp-lit corridors. The villa had grown quiet at this hour; only the soft pad of his boots and the occasional distant clink of servants finishing evening chores broke the stillness. Sunset had bled fully into deep indigo outside the arched windows, and the first stars were beginning to prick through the sky.

They hadn't covered more than a dozen paces when Thea suddenly stiffened in his arms.

"Wait."

She lifted her head, eyes widening as memory returned.

"The sword…"

She extended her right hand back toward the corridor they had left behind.

The longsword Kaelan had lent her—still resting on the floor of Luna's chamber—rose smoothly into the air at her call. It floated toward them hilt-first, moving with the familiar grace of her mana control… until it reached a point roughly a foot from Qin Wei's chest.

Then it stopped dead.

The blade began to glow.

Not the pale, steady blue-white it had worn under Thea's direction—this light was deeper, warmer, threaded through with molten gold that pulsed in slow, living rhythm like a heartbeat made visible. The air around the sword shimmered faintly, as though the weapon itself were breathing.

Thea blinked, confusion etching deeper lines across her tired features.

"What…?"

She reached out again, fingers brushing toward the hilt.

The sword retreated half a step—then hovered there, trembling ever so slightly, caught in some invisible tug-of-war between two wills.

Qin Wei came to a complete stop.

Thea frowned, confusion rapidly giving way to unease. "Put me down for a second."

He turned carefully and lowered her to her feet, keeping one arm looped securely around her waist until she found her balance. Her legs were still shaky from hours of mana strain, but she braced herself against his shoulder and stretched her hand toward the sword once more.

The golden glow flared brighter—almost blinding for a heartbeat—washing both their faces in warm, shifting light.

At the exact same instant, a familiar chime rang inside Qin Wei's skull, crisp and insistent.

A new holographic screen unfolded in his private vision, words glowing with quiet urgency.

[Ding! One of the Thirteen Zodiac Swords—the Sword of Leo—has expressed interest in changing its loyalty. Warning: Accepting will sever the bond with its past owner by force. Once accepted, the system will merge the Zodiac Sword with the host, transforming it into a soul weapon. Do you wish to proceed?]

Qin Wei stared at the notification.

The glowing sword hovered between them, its golden light now so bright it cast long, shifting shadows across the corridor walls. He had assumed—without really thinking about it—that the blade belonged to Thea. A family heirloom, perhaps, or a personal weapon lent by her father for the occasion. He had never once considered that it might carry deeper significance.

Until this moment.

The realization struck him like cold water: this was no ordinary sword. The way it trembled, the way the light pulsed with something almost alive, the way it had stopped dead the instant it neared his chest—it wasn't responding to Thea anymore.

It was responding to him.

Time seemed to stretch and thin around them. The distant sounds of the villa—soft footsteps of servants, the faint creak of settling wood—faded to nothing. The corridor narrowed until it felt like the world had shrunk to just the three of them: him, Thea, and the sword hanging suspended in golden radiance.

And then, impossibly, two small figures flickered into existence on either shoulder.

On his left, a tiny chibi version of himself appeared—dressed in flowing white robes, small feathered wings fluttering nervously behind its back. The angelic figure clasped its hands together, large eyes wide with earnest worry.

"Qin Wei," it said in a soft, pleading voice that somehow echoed only inside his head, "your wife is so devoted to you. Look at her—she stayed awake for hours, sweating, trembling, just to help you reach this path. You can't steal from someone who loves you like that. It would break her heart. You know it would."

On his right shoulder, the opposite figure materialized—same face, same height, but dressed in sleek black with tiny curved horns and a wicked, toothy grin. A thin, whip-like tail flicked lazily behind it.

"No, no, no," the devilish chibi drawled, crossing its arms with exaggerated confidence. "Your wife is rich. Filthy rich. House Griffin could buy ten thousand swords like this and not even notice the expense. She's not like Luna—who gave away everything she had, down to her mother's keepsake, just to give you a chance. Thea has resources. She has safety nets. You don't have to feel guilty about taking one little sword. It's okay to take advantage of her wealth. Snatch it for yourself. You need power. She doesn't."

The angelic chibi fluttered its wings in agitation.

"No! You can't do that!" it cried. "What about your conscience? You don't even know the full history of this sword—or what it means to Thea. What if she finds out? What if she breaks because of it? She loves you. At most she might scold you, shout, cry a little… but deep down she'd be disappointed. The kind of disappointment that lingers. You would hurt her, Qin Wei. Don't do it."

The devilish chibi rolled its eyes dramatically.

"Actually," it countered, leaning in close so its tiny voice hissed right against his ear, "this would be the perfect test. Which matters more to her—her husband, or some shiny piece of metal? If she truly loves you, she'll understand. She'll forgive. And if she doesn't…" It shrugged, tail flicking. "Well, then you'll know exactly where you stand. Besides—you don't even have to tell her you stole it. Just feign ignorance. 'Oh, the sword chose me on its own. I had no idea.' Simple."

It leaned even closer, grin widening.

"And later? When you become the God of War? When your potential towers over those Half-Deities? You can give her a better sword. A dozen better swords. The system is on your side. Your ceiling is limitless. One little Zodiac blade won't even be a footnote in your legend. Take it. Accept it. You deserve power. She can afford to lose it."

The angelic chibi opened its mouth to protest again—"This is wrong, you're not a scourge, think again—"

The devilish chibi kicked it square in the chest with surprising force. The white-robed figure tumbled off Qin Wei's shoulder with a startled yelp, vanishing in a puff of soft light.