Goddess Leyna vanished.
The last speck of her snow-like light faded into the air, and the world she had formed for them began to crumble.
Fine cracks spread across the space around Kiaria and Diala like lines on shattered glass. The gentle winter sky above them flickered. The ground beneath their feet trembled as if it were no longer truly there.
The space created by the box was collapsing.
The cube of wooden light in the air vibrated faintly.
Formations that had been spread and fused moments ago began to reverse–layer by layer, array by array. The complex structures they had watched forming earlier now unraveled as if someone had pulled time backward.
Large composite formations dissolved into smaller ones.
One thousand twenty-four pieces folded into five hundred twelve.
Five hundred twelve into two hundred fifty-six.
Two hundred fifty-six into one hundred twenty-eight–
Until all of it compressed back into the strange, irregular wooden box they had first seen.
The sheath around them dissolved.
The phantom winter sky tore open.
The soft meadow beneath their feet shattered like fragile ice, and the entire constructed world collapsed inward.
Kiaria blinked.
In the next instant, they stood once more on cold, eerie ground–where dead energy clung to the air like damp cloth. The scent of corpses and Yin Qi crept back into their lungs.
The box, now reverted to its irregular form, shrank with a final, soft pulse of light.
Then it dropped gently into Diala's palm.
She curled her fingers around it.
It was small now.
Small enough to fit easily into one hand, small enough to wear like a locket around the neck.
The Goddess of Nemesis awaited them a short distance away.
Her black and crimson battle robes contrasted with the pale remnants of winter still hanging faintly in the air. Her expression was calm, her eyes quietly measuring everything at once–Kiaria, Diala, the faint trace left by Leyna's presence, and the red thread still binding the two of them.
Diala exhaled and lifted the box.
She turned it in her hand once, studying its weightless compactness, then instinctively raised her other hand.
"I'll keep it safe," she murmured, half to herself.
She tapped the box with her will, intending to store it in her spatial ring.
The box trembled.
Then–
It resisted.
A gentle force pushed back against her intention. The box refused entry, as if the ring itself were a narrow door and this small object carried an entire world behind it.
Diala blinked in surprise and tried again.
Nothing.
Although the box had shrunk, its essence hadn't. It still contained a whole land and mountain range inside–a realm crafted by a Goddess. For her low-tier spatial ring, it was simply beyond capacity.
The box rejected her command and returned to her palm.
The Goddess of Nemesis smiled faintly.
She had been waiting for that exact moment.
She stepped forward and held out a ring.
"Use this instead," she said.
The ring was simple at first glance, without gem or ornament. But the more one looked at it, the more unfathomable it seemed. The metallic surface reflected no light, as if it absorbed it instead. Within its inner band, faint lines of runes flickered like stars seen through a storm.
Diala accepted it.
As soon as the ring touched her skin, the box reacted.
It slipped from her fingers of its own accord and dissolved into a streak of light, flowing straight into the ring as though it had always belonged there.
"The difference between a spatial ring and a void ring," Nemesis began slowly, "is not simply volume. It is law."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Void rings can be opened only by bloodlines bearing Godhood. A mortal who forces their way in…"
She paused, sighed deeply, and finished with quiet weight.
"Will be swallowed."
Diala's hands tightened slightly around the ring.
"If anyone dares to enter one without proper qualification," Nemesis continued, her tone flat and matter-of-fact, "they will enter–and never leave. They won't appear in one rift, but in endless spatial rifts. Layer after layer, a perpetually shifting maze. It can even devour a whole land, erase it without a trace."
She lifted a hand and tapped her temple lightly.
"It responds more to thought than to command. So handle it carefully. Stray dreams, wandering emotions, foolish curiosity… can all become fatal if your mind wavers."
Diala swallowed.
"Thank you, Aunt," she said quietly. "I'll be careful."
She slid the void ring onto her finger where her old ring had been. Then, almost naturally, she placed her old spatial ring inside the new one–like a small box placed inside a larger vault.
Nemesis nodded in satisfaction.
"I've left many things for you inside," she added. "Books, scrolls, cultivation resources. All left specifically for you. You are not allowed to pass them on or teach from them lightly. As for the treasures and resources–those are for you alone. Don't even think of gifting them away."
Her tone carried no room for negotiation.
Diala nodded again, more solemnly this time.
Nemesis' gaze fell briefly on the red thread binding Kiaria and Diala's wrists.
The faint red silk-like light still pulsed steadily, connecting heart to heart.
A short laugh escaped Nemesis' lips.
"Haha… she did that too," she said, amusement and helplessness mingled in her voice. "You'll understand later, little girl. But I do feel a bit of pity for you, my Lord. You won't be able to shamelessly pry on other girls anymore."
She tilted her head toward Kiaria with a teasing glint in her eyes.
But Kiaria did not react.
Not to the tease.
Not to the pity.
Not even to the word "Lord."
He stood slightly behind Diala, fingers still loosely linked with hers through the red thread, eyes distant.
He looked like a man who had forgotten something crucial and was combing inwardly through his mind to grasp it.
Even mockery seemed to slide off his ears.
"MY LORD. My Lord." Nemesis called out, half exasperated, half amused.
No response.
Diala turned toward him, concerned.
The mask on his face hid his expression, so she couldn't read his eyes clearly. She only saw the stillness in his posture and thought–
He must still be troubled by Ancestor's question…
She tightened her grip slightly in silent reassurance.
Time stretched for a few breaths.
Then–
Kiaria's eyes cleared.
The thing he had been trying to remember resurfaced.
He turned his gaze to Nemesis, and this time his sight was sharp, steady.
"Do you know what happened here," he asked directly, "and why the Gods are involved at all?"
Nemesis' pupils narrowed slightly.
He didn't stop.
Another question rose–this one not spoken aloud, but sent telepathically, his intention focused like a blade.
"And why does Diala carry a Goddess bloodline?" his mind-voice continued. "If no one escaped from this land alive in the past, how does her lineage still exist? An entire race was wiped out here. You all are not natives of this land. I've already gathered that much. Gods and the Evil race–none of you originated from here. This land is the only remaining one of its kind."
His eyes did not waver.
"What is your true motive? Are you hiding something critical from us? How did Leyna's bloodline remain unscathed when everything else perished?"
For the first time in this realm, Nemesis' body moved with genuine restraint.
She lowered herself to one knee.
"My Lord," she said aloud, her voice subdued, "forgive me. None of your questions can be answered by me."
Her reply followed telepathically, soft and constrained, as if each word had to push past unseen chains.
"But I promise you this," her inner voice said, "there is no harm in her or her bloodline. Not to you. Not to this world. I wished to tell you something more… but the seal placed on me will not allow it."
Kiaria's gaze remained on her for a moment longer, weighing the sincerity in her tone against the stubborn silence of her constraints.
He did not press.
At that moment, Diala lifted her hand and broke the heavy air with a simple question.
"Aunt," she asked, clutching her void ring lightly, "what level are the cultivation books inside?"
Nemesis turned toward her.
"It's not about level," she answered. "Your entire cultivation system is different from those around you."
Diala blinked.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
Nemesis smiled faintly.
"Little Dia, your bloodline is not superficial. So your cultivation will not be either. This system was developed personally by Goddess Leyna. It belongs to a path that is not based solely on body or soul."
She looked deep into Diala's eyes.
"I feel a strong sword intent in you," Nemesis added. "And something else–a mysterious fighting spirit. That fighting spirit complements your power instead of harming it."
Kiaria shifted slightly.
"Oh–that energy," he said, remembering. "It's from the inheritance we received in our previous adventure."
Nemesis nodded.
"You should train that power properly," she said. "As for you, Little Dia–your cultivation path is DouDao."
"Dou… Dao?" Diala repeated slowly.
"Your current realm," Nemesis continued, "is at the Dou Qi Realm. It is the beginning. Your cultivation is not based on body strength alone, nor on spiritual sea alone, but on fighting spirit. The more you fight, the more you grow."
She paused, then added:
"The techniques written in those books are not meant to be admired. They are meant to be used. In battle. Under pressure. With risk. Only by fighting with those skills will your realms advance."
She lifted a finger and traced faint symbols in the air as she spoke.
"Dou Qi Realm.Blood Tempering Realm.Bone Refining Realm.Body Furnace Realm.Heart Furnace Realm.War Body Realm.Dou Heart Realm.Dou Domain Realm.Sovereign Dou Realm.DouDao Lord.DouDao Ancestor Realm."
Each name resonated like a distant drum.
"These are your realms," Nemesis said.
Diala's heart beat faster with each step listed, her mind instinctively picturing what such stages might mean–what kind of battles, what kind of pain and growth they would demand.
Kiaria lifted his head.
"Are there any complications?" he asked, his tone serious.
Nemesis shook her head.
"No complications," she replied. "But there is a condition. You need a partner."
"Partner?" Diala echoed.
Nemesis nodded.
"It is a form of dual cultivation," she explained. "Your sparring partner must always be stronger than you in overall power–or at least be able to suppress you in actual combat. You must fight, be beaten down, stand back up, and fight again. Your body will be injured. Your bones will fracture. Your meridians will be strained."
Her gaze grew stern.
"Suffering is not optional in this path. But so long as you have not yet consumed the Deca Millennium Soul-Amity Flower, truly fatal injuries and permanent meridian damage will not heal completely on their own."
She turned to Kiaria.
"Since her body already contains Dou Qi, even if she is fatally injured in the future, that flower can still save her life. But the chance of obtaining that flower is extremely low–close to impossible. Do not rely on it. Think of it as a miracle, not a plan."
Kiaria nodded slowly.
"So that's how it is," he murmured.
Nemesis exhaled lightly.
"Yes. And now, it's time for me to leave," she said. "Once I do, you will be returned to the real entrance of the Corpse Swarm."
Her voice cooled as she continued.
"The place where all of you were trapped earlier–that was the true entrance. The remains you saw there were not illusions. They belonged to people and beasts who entered accidentally… or deliberately… and never returned."
She paused to let that sink in.
"What you destroyed just now was only the first defensive line," she said. "Do not assume the danger is over. Be careful."
Her gaze softened slightly as it landed on Diala.
"Except for Little Dia," she added.
Diala blinked.
"Me?"
"Your Abyssal Cold Flame Phoenix martial soul and its cold flame are the nemesis of that land," Nemesis said. "Any corpse creature or Yin-born swarm that touches that power will be petrified. But the duration and range of that effect will depend on your cultivation."
Kiaria's eyes lit with understanding.
"Understood," he said with a nod.
He and Diala both watched Nemesis' form begin to blur at the edges, as if she were preparing to depart.
But–
She didn't leave.
Instead, she smiled and kept her place, arms casually folded.
"Both of you," she said, amused, "seem to have forgotten something."
Kiaria and Diala blinked, then turned.
Their companions still lay scattered on the ground, unconscious and unaware of everything that had transpired.
Diala tugged lightly on Kiaria's sleeve.
"Kia," she whispered, "think about what'll happen if Big Sister finds out we forgot her."
Kiaria's lips twitched beneath his mask.
Nemesis chuckled.
"So you're all afraid of her," she said. "Interesting. Let me see what she's made of."
She walked to Princess Lainsa's side and extended her hand, placing it lightly upon Lainsa's forehead. For a moment, her eyes went still and distant, as if peering through countless veils of flesh and blood.
Then her lips curled.
"Interesting," she said. "'Anatomy Chrysanthemum.'"
Diala leaned closer.
"Anatomy… Chrysanthemum?" she repeated softly.
Nemesis nodded.
"One of the most tactically versatile bloodlines," she said. "Defensive. Offensive. Healer. All in one. Even many healers cannot detect ailments or hidden problems in bodies–alive or dead. But an Anatomy Chrysanthemum bearer can. They are living instruments of truth."
She closed her eyes briefly, speaking as if from memory.
"Rootless. Leafless. A chrysanthemum that has only flower and stem-vines. Its countless needle-thin vines can penetrate any flesh, any shield, any protective layer. Layers of armor, barriers, talismans–it doesn't matter. Once the vines are sent, all conventional resistance is meaningless."
"Flower…" she continued, "two-colored. The inner circle a rich, deep red. The outer two-thirds of each petal gradually turning a faint green near the tips. The vines–semi-transparent, nearly colorless. The flower–odorless. No scent to warn its prey or patients."
Nemesis opened her eyes and looked at Princess Lainsa.
"Those who bear this bloodline are treasures of the world," she said. "The snake-themed costume she wears, and her weapon as a hand fan–excellent compatibility. But…"
She withdrew her hand.
"She hasn't awakened her bloodline yet. Her skill and potential remain sealed."
Diala bit her lip.
"Is there a way to awaken it?" she asked. "Her abilities and unique skills based on this bloodline?"
Nemesis' gaze sparkled with a hint of mischief.
"There is," she replied. "'Body Truth Chrysanthemum.' An ageless plant. Each new plantlet is born fully mature. If she consumes it whole, her bloodline will awaken completely."
She smiled slyly.
"Finding it, however… all depends on you two."
Diala and Kiaria both straightened.
"Who said other bloodlines are weak?" Nemesis added. "Each awakening and growth depends on the bearer's choices, opportunities, and comprehension. Fate does not drag anyone by force. It only leaves doors half-open."
Her eyes lingered on Lainsa.
"If she cannot seize her own chances," Nemesis said quietly, "then that will be her own fault. But for now–her greatest chance stands in front of her. That chrysanthemum… and you both."
Kiaria's eyes hardened with resolve.
"Challenging," he said. "But we'll do it. We'll bring her chances to her path."
"Me too," Diala agreed firmly. "We'll help her awaken."
Nemesis smiled genuinely for the first time in a while.
"Happy to hear that," she said.
She snapped her fingers.
Instantly, a soft wave spread across the ground.
Everyone who had been unconscious stirred.
Princess Lainsa's eyelashes fluttered. The mercenaries groaned. Elders blinked and yawned. Confusion replaced stillness.
Before disappearing entirely, Nemesis' voice brushed against Kiaria's and Diala's minds one last time.
"Never mention what happened here to anyone. Not even in whispers."
Then–
She was gone.
Yawns and low murmurs rose around them as everyone slowly came back to themselves.
"What… just happened?"
"Did we faint?"
"Why does everything feel different…?"
Questions began to rise.
Kiaria gently loosened his grip on Diala's hand and took a step forward.
He drew in a breath, gathered his internal energy, and focused it into his right leg. Beneath his foot, a small monochrome-white sphere of condensed energy formed silently.
He stepped down.
The sphere shattered with a thunderous boom.
A wave of force rolled out across the ground, like a silent shockwave given sound.
Within a blink, the noise of confusion stopped.
Every eye turned toward him.
Nobody dared to move frivolously.
"This is Re Ze Lure Island," Kiaria said, his voice cold and clear. "The Land of the Dead."
He swept his gaze slowly across each face.
"Look around. We are surrounded by the corpses of those who came before us. We don't have the luxury of arguing or blaming each other right now. This isn't the place for childishness."
The wind stirred decayed blood beneath their feet.
"All of you," he continued, "just escaped from the jaws of death. Remember that. Understand where we stand, and move forward. We'll count survivors later."
The Chief met his eyes from across the group.
He gave a firm nod.
Without another word, Kiaria and the Chief stepped to the front and began leading the way deeper into the island.
The path ahead was carpeted with bodies.
Some were old, bones already half-exposed beneath rotting flesh. Others looked almost fresh, as though their last struggle had ended only heartbeats before this group arrived. Flowers grew among them–pale, eerie blooms that fed on Yin energy instead of sunlight.
The air was thick.
Yin Qi coiled around their ankles like heavy mist. The smell of rot seeped into nostrils and lungs, forcing itself into the back of the throat.
Except for Kiaria and Diala, everyone else covered their mouths and noses with cloth, masks, or sleeves. Some used old long staffs to probe ahead–testing the ground before each step, treating the staff like a cautious third leg.
Their slow procession eventually brought them to a narrow corridor of piled corpses that opened into a broader area.
There, on a cracked stone monument half-buried in remains, were letters roughly carved.
"What is this place…?" someone whispered.
"Look–there's something written," an older survivor said. He hurried forward, squinting at the weathered stone.
"S… W… AR… M OF D… E… A… D," he read slowly, voice uncertain.
"Swarm of Dead," the Chief said, his lips pulling into a grim, humorless smile. "Hah. What an interesting name."
He tightened his grip on his weapon.
"Let's cross it," he said. "Be careful. Swarm beasts, corpse beasts, poisonous insects–this place won't let us walk through for free."
The group gathered themselves, hearts heavy but determined.
And step by step, they moved forward, deeper into the Land of the Dead.