ERA OF DESTINY

Kiaria and Fu Cai stepped through the water portal together.

For a brief moment, the passage behind them remained open–its surface still flowing, still alive. But as they began their descent down the frost-laced stairs, something changed.

The water froze.

Not from the edges, not from the outside–but from the center.

A sharp crystalline sound rang through the space as ice formed outward in branching veins, each crack singing softly like glass being born. The liquid portal shrank inward, retreating upon itself, condensing until all motion ceased.

What remained was a single blue-white snowflake, hovering silently in the air.

They had already descended halfway.

Fu Cai slowed her steps, her gaze drifting downward–past the steps, past the frozen silence–toward the Blood Moon Void below.

"Fairy Fu Cai," Kiaria said softly, looking beneath the mountain "is the one."

Kiaria turned slightly.

"She is Diala," Fu Cai continued. "The descendant of Goddess Leyna. The current owner of the Winter Soul Mount."

Her eyes narrowed faintly, sensing something deeper.

"I can feel the Goddess's breath within her. A wisp of Leyna's soul rests inside her sea of consciousness–waiting."

"Waiting," Fu Cai said, "for her awakening."

Kiaria did not hesitate.

"I will awaken her bloodline," he replied simply.

Fu Cai laughed lightly.

"Goddess Leyna must share your confidence," she said. "Otherwise, she would never have left that soul-wisp behind."

Her smile sharpened just a little.

"Do not disappoint her."

They continued downward.

After a few steps, Fu Cai spoke again.

"Do you know why my Master said that even he cannot pass through the Ice-Crystal Mount?"

Kiaria answered without breaking stride.

"He has no reason to," he said. "Without necessity, determination cannot grow."

Fu Cai stopped.

She looked at him for a long moment–then shook her head with a faint sigh.

"Reasons…" she murmured. "Are they truly that important?"

Her gaze turned distant.

"If everything were governed by reason alone, tell me–why does your land still lack peace?"

She waved a hand lightly, dismissing the thought.

"Ahem. Forgive me. This is my flaw," Fu Cai said with a crooked smile.

"My nature contradicts explanations too much. If I continue, you will only inherit eternal sadness."

She stepped forward again.

"Better to remain silent. You will understand in time."

Fifty steps remained.

The snowfall reversed.

Snow that had fallen into the Blood Moon Void began to rise, lifting gently back into the air as if time itself were retreating. Frost receded. The frozen wooden mountain began to melt, shedding ice layer by layer.

Moments later, they reached the bottom.

The instant Kiaria appeared–

"Kiaria!"

Diala rushed forward, her eyes scanning him frantically from head to toe.

"You're not injured?" she demanded. "Did Heart Demon bully you?"

"Dia," Kiaria said gently, catching her hands, "calm down."

He smiled reassuringly.

"Can't you see we have a guest? I'm fine. Nothing happened."

He turned slightly.

"And this," he said, gesturing beside him, "is the Body Truth Chrysanthemum we were searching for."

Diala stiffened.

"I'm Diala," she said quickly. "But outside, you may call me Shade. And he–" she pointed at Kiaria, "–is the Patron."

Kiaria laughed softly.

"Whom do you think you're explaining this to?" he teased.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice near her ear.

"She is a Fairy of the Transformation Realm," he whispered.

"She knew Goddess Leyna personally. She knows everything about us–even what we haven't said aloud."

Diala flushed immediately and looked away.

Fu Cai smiled.

"No problem," she said warmly.

At that moment, the wristbands around Kiaria's and Diala's wrists pulsed once–then dissolved, reverting into wooden blocks. The blocks lifted into the air, circling the blue-white snowflake as the entire process reversed.

The wooden mountain collapsed inward.

Frost retreated.

The snowflake folded back into itself.

In moments, everything condensed into an irregular wooden box–

which slipped quietly into the void.

Kiaria exhaled.

"Then," he said, meeting both their gazes,

"shall we begin?"

The Blood Moon Void shattered.

Space folded.

In the next breath, Kiaria, Diala, and Fu Cai stood once more inside the Ghost Prison Domain.

Kiaria stepped out immediately to meet the others.

Diala and Fu Cai remained behind.

Inside the pseudo palace, unease filled the air.

No one sat.

No one spoke for long.

Footsteps echoed back and forth across the stone floor as tension coiled tighter with every passing breath. When the boundary of the Ghost Prison shimmered and Kiaria stepped out, the stillness shattered instantly.

"Patron!"

Princess Lainsa was the first to move–then Azriel, Ru, Yi, Aizrel, Mu Long–everyone surged forward at once.

"How did it go?" Azriel asked, unable to mask his urgency.

"Did something go wrong?"

Kiaria lifted one hand calmly, stopping the flood of questions.

"Everything went as expected," he said. "I'll explain later."

His gaze shifted immediately.

"Sister Lainsa," he continued, turning toward her, "come with me."

She did not hesitate.

The others instinctively took a step forward–but Kiaria's voice hardened just enough.

"The rest of you stay here."

No one argued.

Princess Lainsa nodded once and followed Kiaria back into the Ghost Prison domain.

–

Inside, the atmosphere felt different–quiet, compressed, solemn.

Diala stood near the center.

Beside her was a young girl with golden chrysanthemum-petal light faintly drifting around her form–radiant, sharp, and calm in a way that did not belong to youth.

Princess Lainsa stopped.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Who is she?" she asked.

"A Fairy," Kiaria answered at once. His tone left no room for casualness.

"Be respectful. She stands no lower than a Goddess."

That alone made Princess Lainsa's breath pause.

Kiaria had never warned her like this before.

She straightened instantly and bowed.

"Greetings, Fairy."

Fu Cai studied her quietly.

Golden light pulsed once in her eyes.

"Indeed," Fu Cai said. "The bloodline of the Anatomy Chrysanthemum."

Her voice remained gentle–but carried weight older than empires.

"Lainsa," Fu Cai continued, "descendant of Lord Fushan. Your bloodline vanished twelve eras before your birth. That is why you never awakened."

She stepped closer.

"Your lineage is dormant–not suppressed. Which means it does not dominate your body."

Fu Cai raised one finger.

"If I force your awakening directly, your meridians will be destroyed–then reconstructed."

Princess Lainsa's fingers tightened slightly at her side.

"The pain?" Fu Cai asked calmly. "Your nerves will transform into stem-vines during reconstruction."

She did not soften her words.

"Anatomy Chrysanthemum ranks second only to the Soul-Amity Flower."

A pause.

"Are you mentally prepared?"

Silence stretched.

Then Fu Cai continued, her voice unchanged.

"There are two methods."

"The first is slow. One full day of controlled dismantling and reconstruction."

Her gaze sharpened.

"The second is faster."

She met Lainsa's eyes directly.

"You destroy your own heart."

The air seemed to freeze.

"When you reach the brink of death, your bloodline will awaken instinctively," Fu Cai explained.

"I will insert my heart-veins into your body. Your heart will stop–but your body will remain alive."

She spoke like a surgeon describing a procedure.

"My veins will gather Body-Truth Essence and rebuild your heart."

"When it is reborn," Fu Cai concluded, "the Anatomy Chrysanthemum will remold your body completely. All damage. All pain. All scars–erased."

She stepped back.

"The choice is yours."

Princess Lainsa did not look at Kiaria.

She did not look at Diala.

She closed her eyes once.

Then opened them.

"I choose sacrifice," she said.

Her voice did not tremble.

"I am a princess. My life was never mine alone."

She lifted her chin.

"If my suffering can end the suffering of others–then it is not suffering."

Fu Cai's lips curved faintly.

"As expected," she said, "of my Master's bloodline."

Only then did Kiaria speak.

"Big Sister…" His voice was low. Careful. "Be careful."

Diala stepped forward abruptly, fists clenched so tightly her knuckles whitened.

She pulled Lainsa into a tight embrace and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Please," Diala whispered, voice breaking just enough to betray her fear.

"Come back."

Lainsa smiled softly and held her shoulders.

"Nothing will happen," she said. "Both of you–leave."

She turned to Kiaria.

"Forget about me," Lainsa added quietly. "Think about the one playing with lives."

She took both their hands.

Then, firmly–decisively–she led them to the boundary of the Ghost Prison.

Without hesitation, she pushed them out.

The barrier sealed.

Princess Lainsa turned back alone.

She walked toward Fu Cai and stood straight.

"Let's begin," she said.

Fu Cai lifted her hand.

From the void ring, a gauntlet emerged–dark gold, etched with chrysanthemum veins that pulsed faintly like living arteries. Five slender claws curved forward, elegant in design, merciless in function. It hovered for a brief moment before settling into Lainsa's outstretched palm.

"Take it," Fu Cai said, her voice calm and absolute."Use it when you are ready."

Lainsa closed her fingers around the gauntlet.

Fu Cai stepped forward.

She began to move.

Her body flowed into an ancient dance–slow, precise, every step aligned with rhythms older than cultivation itself. With each footfall, the oppressive malice of the Ghost Prison peeled away, scraped clean as though the land itself were being purified layer by layer.

Where her bare feet touched–

the earth answered.

Golden Body Truth Chrysanthemums bloomed directly from the soil. They bore no stems, no leaves–only roots anchored deep into the ground and blossoms radiating quiet authority. With every step Fu Cai took, more flowers emerged, until the prison floor transformed into a vast golden bed of living truth.

The Ghost Prison ceased to feel like a prison.

It became a sanctuary.

Lainsa stood at the center.

She drew in a slow breath.

And her mind broke open.

Mimi's trembling hands.The hollow eyes of enslaved children.Chains biting into skin.The screams of companions lost during the assessment.

Blood.Cruel laughter.The silence after.

A mother's wail.

A baby as a beast's meal.

Her chest tightened.

A single tear welled in her left eye.

Her right eye remained dry–clear, unwavering, sharpened by resolve.

The tear slid down her cheek.

Before it could fall–

The gauntlet moved.

Lainsa drove her clawed hand into her own chest.

Bone shattered without resistance. Flesh parted cleanly. The gauntlet pierced ribs and muscle as though they were nothing, and her fingers closed around her own heart.

She felt it.

Beating.Warm.Alive.

Blood spilled from her lips as her body convulsed. The tear finally fell, mixing with crimson as it struck the chrysanthemum-covered ground.

The field responded.

The golden flowers recognized the blood instantly.

Petal by petal, gold darkened into crimson. The entire flower bed shifted in unison, resonating with the awakened lineage contained within that single drop.

Lainsa sank to her knees.

Pain tore through her nerves like wildfire.

Another wave of memories surged.

Kiaria's steady gaze.The Seven Kings' laughter.Shared meals in dim taverns.Quiet moments before chaos swallowed everything.

She did not hesitate.

She crushed her heart.

There was no scream.

Her body collapsed forward.

The ground split open.

Roots erupted–thick, living, deliberate–winding around her limbs, her torso, her neck. They pierced into her nerves, not to destroy, but to replace them. Vines surged into her body, threading through every cell, every path of sensation.

Her heart did not decay.

It gathered.

Heart-vein essence condensed where it had once been, drawn together by the living roots. The Anatomy Chrysanthemum answered barely–reshaping what had been destroyed, rebuilding what had been sacrificed.

Lainsa vanished within a cocoon of roots and vines.

Fu Cai's dance slowed.

She rose gently into the air as her final step settled.

At once, every chrysanthemum in the field lost its roots. All vitality withdrew, converging into the cocoon at the center. Red petals lifted into the air, swirling like a storm of blood-stained snow.

They descended.

Layer upon layer.

Until the cocoon resembled a single, massive chrysanthemum in full bloom.

Time passed.

An hour.

The Ghost Prison was silent–so still it felt as though even existence itself was holding its breath.

Then–

One petal turned gold.

Another followed.

Gold spread across crimson, petal by petal, reclaiming purity through transformation rather than erasure. As each petal completed its change, it detached and drifted away, returning to the earth where it belonged.

The field restored itself.

Only the cocoon remained.

Fu Cai watched from a distance.

As each chrysanthemum returned to the soil, her gaze followed it–and slowly, almost imperceptibly, she shook her head.

The resonance was unstable.The rebirth incomplete.The bloodline awakened–but not yet aligned.

Fu Cai lowered her hand.

Awakening–

had not yet finished.