Watching Ghizhong weep uncontrollably, Morax felt an unfamiliar stirring deep within his chest. He couldn't quite place it, but the feeling was... uneasy.
For some reason, this strange emotion had taken hold of him. Yet he could still vividly recall how Ghizhong looked back when she was developing the Ghizhong Machine—her hands worn raw and blistered, but her expression full of excitement as she worked without pause.
When Marchosius brought her food, she only told him to leave it aside, promising to eat once she finished. By the time he returned with supper that evening, the meal remained untouched.
"Sorry, Marchosius. It's not that your cooking isn't good—I just don't have time right now. Once I finish this Ghizhong, I'll eat every last bite."
Understanding her determination, Marchosius simply nodded, reminding her softly, "Don't overwork yourself," before leaving.
Meanwhile, Morax sat quietly beside Ghizhong, sipping the sour bamboo shoot soup Marchosius had made while watching her labor endlessly, neither eating nor resting.
He hadn't refused to help—Ghizhong simply wouldn't allow it.
"You've protected Guili Plains so many times," she told him. "I want to protect it myself, just once, with my own strength."
Her eyes gleamed like starlight as she spoke, gazing at the half-finished Ghizhong Machine as if it were her only hope.
With Morax silently keeping her company, she worked day and night without pause. Though he stayed by her side, he did little more than sit nearby, sometimes staring absentmindedly out the window. The room was quiet—too quiet, almost cold.
Cloud Retainer had wanted to help, but Ghizhong refused her as well.
"She talks too much," Ghizhong had said. "If she starts chatting, I'll lose focus. That'll only slow me down."
"You've been working for seven days and nights without rest. Don't you plan to stop?" Morax asked. He himself had never fought anyone for that long—his longest battle had been his first encounter with Elliot Yuan, which lasted five days and nights.
"No, it's almost done," Ghizhong replied, wiping sweat from her brow before continuing her meticulous adjustments.
"You said the same thing three days ago," Morax reminded her.
"Still, this is the first weapon I've ever made to protect the Guili Plains. I have to make it perfect," she said as she inspected each component with unwavering precision.
"Working on the same thing for seven days straight—doesn't it get dull?"
"How can you say that? Every step, every part requires careful calculation," Ghizhong retorted.
"I'm finished. Could you test it for me?"
After carefully checking over the Ghizhong Machine and confirming that everything was in order, she turned to Morax with barely contained excitement.
"Why not."
With that, Morax followed her out to the grassland.
"You must protect yourself. Strengthen your defenses—this weapon packs quite a punch," Ghizhong warned.
Morax nodded silently, conjured a shield around himself, and took position where she directed.
After making her final adjustments, Ghizhong aimed the weapon squarely at him.
"Ready? I'm going to fire," she reminded him.
Morax gripped his spear and crouched slightly, fully prepared to defend himself.
Then—boom!
A massive blast of energy cannoned straight toward him. Yet when it struck his shield, it didn't even leave a crack.
Morax froze in disbelief. "?"
The lack of damage left him utterly stunned.
What the hell... Seven days and nights without rest, and this is what she made!?
He was completely dumbfounded.
But then, the Ghizhong Machine began to power up again, firing in rapid succession.
Crack...
Crack...
After more than a dozen blasts, hairline fractures finally appeared on Morax's shield. By the time Ghizhong had unleashed sixty or seventy shots, the shield bore only two long cracks—no more.
By then, Ghizhong was completely exhausted.
As her attack ceased, Morax lowered his shield and walked toward her.
"How does it feel? Is the power sufficient?" she asked weakly, her voice trembling with fatigue, each word drawing short, labored breaths.
"It's decent. It could kill a God—but only with sustained fire," Morax replied.
"That's good... that's good..."
Ghizhong exhaled deeply, a bright, weary smile spreading across her face.
"I'll make a few more of these later so the Adepti can use them too. With just a little elemental power, it can fire powerful energy rounds. Even a God like me, with barely any divine power left, can still fire about seventy shots. If we let..."
Before she could finish, Ghizhong suddenly collapsed from exhaustion.
For seven days and nights, she hadn't eaten, drunk, or slept. She had poured all her energy into perfecting the Ghizhong Machine—and in the final test, she had used up every last trace of her divine power.
It was the very limit of what she could achieve.
Morax caught her before she hit the ground, gazing at her dirt-smudged, sleeping face. In that moment, he understood—she truly wanted, with all her heart, to protect Guili Plains.