The riverbed lay barren, mud glistening like veins beneath the last shreds of moonlight. Fish flopped weakly in the muck, gasping for a river that no longer existed. At its center, Luna sprawled across the cracked earth, steam rising faintly from her body. Her chest heaved in ragged pulls, silver eyes flickering with exhaustion. Her skin was pale where the pearl's violent essence had scorched her veins.
The clam pearl rested against her sternum—no longer fighting her, but fused to her like a second heart. With each pulse of her body, it thrummed faintly, sending ripples through the air.
Her lips curved into a feral smile. She had won. The river was hers.
But then—
A hollow crunch echoed along the dried banks. Boots sank into wet silt, the sound deliberate, steady, unnervingly stiff. Luna's ears twitched. Her head lifted.
From between jagged stones and leaning willows, a figure lurched into view. Tall, broad-shouldered… but wrong. Its limbs were covered in blood-matted white fur. Its face was smeared with dried paste, its aura slack yet familiar. Its chest bore faint scars of torn wounds, crudely stitched by some unnatural force. And its eyes—warm with laughter—looked at her.
"…Oliver," Luna whispered, silver eyes narrowing with intrigue.
"I'm surprised you can tell," he said as he approached, voice low. His gaze swept over her—her silver hair clinging to her damp forehead, her pale complexion, the rise and fall of her chest. His eyes lingered lower.
Her legs caught his attention. They were no longer the doe's hooves he remembered—now entirely human. Then his gaze returned upward, where he felt the pulse of an earthly treasure. His lips curved faintly. "Looks like you've been through a lot."
"Let's get you dried and dressed," he murmured, lifting her easily and carrying her away from the river. She nuzzled against him with a tired hum.
"I won against the river," she whispered, eyes fluttering closed.
"That's good. You're getting stronger," he muttered, letting her sink into sleep as his puppet carried her into the trees.
Hours passed. Oliver's puppet had laid Luna down to rest, while his oni body oversaw Takara, Sana, and Kaede's training. They were improving at absorbing Qi, but without a proper technique they were far from their peak. For a moment, he considered passing them one of his own, but then his thoughts turned to the abodes scattered across the land. He would search for them later.
For now, his seclusion was complete. He had already stepped into the Foundation Realm—enough power to protect himself in the real world. With his new earthly treasures in hand, he needed to check on his family. Strangers had been slipping into the forest more often, and it left him paranoid. When the girls finished training, he handed them a list of ingredients to gather—along with false additions to confuse any eavesdroppers.
He still didn't trust that masked figure wasn't listening.
Switching into his human body, Oliver prepared to leave. Not before indulging himself thoroughly with his kunoichi and samurai. Luna was still asleep and spared for now, while Kaede—reserved as always—was one he intended to take once she finally stepped from her shell.
"Well, stay safe, you three. I'll be back sooner than you think," he murmured as he slipped into the forest, passed through the wardrobe, and donned his uniform. He stuffed talismans into his pockets, bracing himself for the gamble: either the system would strip him of memory, or his true body beneath the peach tree would hold.
It worked. Relief surged through him as he flexed his fingers, though instability lingered faintly in his core. Now… how far can I push myself from within the formation realm?
Straightening his clothes, Oliver stepped out of his bedroom, walked the familiar hallway, and descended the stairs.
The dining room was already full. Yumi sat across from Kaito, absently stirring her soup with a spoon. She glanced up at him, expression unreadable, more distant than usual.
His mother, ever composed, sipped her tea. Her sharp blue eyes flicked toward him. "You took your time," she noted, setting her cup down.
Oliver slid into his seat, ignoring the remark as he reached for the rice bowl. "Just needed a moment," he muttered.
Beside him, Kaito swung his legs under the table, struggling to catch a piece of egg with his chopsticks. After several failed attempts, he gave up, pinched it with his fingers, and stuffed it into his mouth with a proud grin.
Yuki laughed at him. "How can't you use chopsticks yet when I can?" she teased, snatching a piece of egg from Oliver's plate.
Yumi, still stirring her soup, said nothing. Her gaze flicked briefly toward Oliver, then dropped again.
Their mother placed her cup down with a soft clink. "Eat quickly. You need to get going."
After breakfast, they each gathered their lunches. Kaito grabbed his colorful bento with enthusiasm, Yui tugged hers from the counter, and Yumi packed hers away in silence. Oliver pulled out his own—two sandwiches and some fruit. Simple, but sufficient.
"We're late," their mother reminded them briskly.
Oliver slung his bag over his shoulder and followed her out the door. Kaito bounced on his heels, eager, while Yumi trailed behind with a distant expression.
The drive was uneventful, traffic crawling ahead. Conversation was light, his mother's calm voice occasionally directed at Yumi, who only answered in vague murmurs. Oliver stared out the window, letting the city blur by.
At a red light, the car eased to a stop. He tapped his fingers against the armrest before slipping a hand into his pocket. Let's see if I can spot her from here.
With a subtle motion, he activated the talisman. Awareness surged outward—across the street, the cars, the sky. And there: Aihara Misaki.
Already at Hoshizuki High. A second-year.
Curiosity sharpened. Where was the giant chameleon? He searched, but found nothing. Either it wasn't present, or she was concealing it.
Testing further, he brushed his senses across other figures. Spirit seeped through fabric, revealing glimpses beneath uniforms—bras and panties of varying colors and prints. Stripes, patterns, childish motifs. But the deeper he pushed, the faster his Qi drained.
The moment he tried to see further, a backlash struck. His essence wavered, unstable. He stopped just in time.
Tch. So that's the trade-off. I can stretch my Qi far, but misuse shakes the link. Still… if I store enough Qi in my bodies before they hatch, I can offset the drain.
A smirk tugged at his lips.
The car pulled into the school drop-off. His mother parked. "This is your stop."
Oliver gathered his things, ruffled Kaito's hair, and stepped out. The crisp morning air washed over him.
"Have a good day," his mother called.
"I will," he said, waving without looking back.
The bell rang in the distance as Oliver blended into the sea of students. His mind circled Misaki and the mystery she carried.
In class, the teacher's droning was background noise. Oliver leaned back in his seat, thoughts sharpening—until a voice cut through from behind him.
"Hey, Oliver. Guess what I found?