The starry sky faded.
The void vanished.
When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in his Spiritual Sea.
This time, he didn't appear over the grandmist oceans or on the battlefield of feathers and bones. The world around him folded with a quiet inevitability, as if his soul itself were choosing the stage.
Snow fell.
A quiet plain of ice and white stretched to the horizon, the ground smooth as polished jade. Above, a sky of pale aurora flowed in soundless sheets—soft green and dim violet, drifting like the last breath of some ancient winter.
The Spiritual Sea had taken this form often.
It was where he had first met her.
The Magic Cube floated ahead of him.
It turned slowly in the frozen air, edges gliding past one another in impossible angles. Its surfaces were dark, but every line that defined it carried countless shimmering runes—Dao lines from a hundred eras, Laws once owned by mighty Empyreans, now chained and subdued into this one enigmatic treasure. The longer one stared, the more patterns seemed to wake within it: tide-like waves of divine runes, collapsing and reforming like stars inside a tiny, black universe.
Within that universe, a woman sat cross-legged.
Mo Eversnow.
Her long black hair spilled over white robes like a waterfall of ink over snow. Her features—slender brows, straight nose, lips like carved ice—held the cold, restrained calm of a glacier that had survived tens of thousands of years without melting. She looked as if she'd been cut from frozen moonlight.
As Ren's presence solidified, her long lashes trembled.
She opened her eyes.
For a brief heartbeat, her gaze moved past him.
Behind his soul body, behind his True Self, something still turned—a vast, distant Heaven that did not belong to this universe. Its sky was a swirl of dim gray grandmist threaded with rivers of blood and arcs of black lightning. Twelve phantom palaces rotated slowly in that firmament, each one shining with a different Law color. Beneath them flowed a slow sea of shadow feathers and crushed bones, forever collapsing and reforming.
Grandmist Heavenly Demon Heaven.
Even filtered through the Magic Cube's ancient arrays, even with its formations smoothing away lethal edges, the afterimage of that Heaven pressed against her perception.
Her soul quivered.
"Just now…" she said softly. "That tribulation."
Her voice was cool as falling snow. Only someone watching closely would notice the faint tremor buried underneath.
Ren walked toward the Cube, boots crunching softly on the snow.
Up close, the air still carried the last echo of what he had just done.
Empyrean-level tribulation.
The fury that heaven and earth unleashed when a transcendent divine might was born into the world.
Even now, the Spiritual Sea carried the faint taste of burned stars.
Ren stopped before the Magic Cube, hands loose at his sides.
"Mm." His tone was light. "The Heavenly Dao got curious. I said hello back."
Mo Eversnow's lips pressed together.
"Curious," she repeated quietly.
Her gaze sharpened, cold light gathering in her eyes like a storm concealed under ice.
"The tribulation you drew just now was not a simple baptism of lightning," she said. "That was the wrath of this universe when a transcendent divine might appears. Even among Empyreans, only a handful can summon that level of punishment. They would not do so lightly."
Her fingers tightened on her knees.
"And you…"
She exhaled, a thin cloud of white drifting from her lips in this soul-made winter.
"…you met it with another transcendent divine might you created yourself."
Her eyes swept over him, deep and measuring.
"You truly are not a martial artist this world was prepared for."
Ren smiled.
It was the same relaxed curve he wore facing dragons, devils, gods, or Heavenly Dao lightning. But here, in front of the quiet snow of her soul sea, that smile softened around the edges.
"Is that a compliment?" he asked.
Mo Eversnow's eyes flickered.
"…It is a fact," she said. "I do not lavish words lightly."
"I can tell," he replied, amused.
He didn't push for more.
He let the silence settle, easy and unhurried.
Snow drifted between them. The Magic Cube floated, unblinking. The distant aurora rolled like a slow tide.
Mo Eversnow's gaze dropped for a breath, then rose again.
"I did not call you here to praise you," she said. "I… wished to speak of something else."
Her fingers curled, just enough to leave hairline cracks in the snow beneath her.
"Tian Mingzi."
The name fell like a shard of ice.
Ren's smile faded—not with displeasure, but with a calm kind of gravity. He didn't joke. He didn't interrupt.
He gave the name the attention it deserved.
Mo Eversnow's eyes turned distant, as if looking past him, past the snow, through the Magic Cube's boundaries to a different sky.
"When you first condensed your Laws in this world," she said quietly, "when you first shaped that Heaven-Piercing Martial Intent… I thought I had already seen the limit of your monstrousness."
Her lips trembled in a shadow of bitter humor.
"Then you met a Heavenly Tribulation head-on as if it were a test you had set for yourself."
She shook her head slightly.
"I thought, 'This man will shake the Divine Realm when he arrives.'"
Ren let out a small chuckle.
"Well," he said lazily, "if I happen to be in the mood that day…"
She shot him a look.
The iciness in her gaze was not as absolute as when they'd first met. A sliver of exasperation slipped through now—thin, but undeniably real.
"Do not pretend you will not," she said. "I have watched you enough. You do not walk quietly on a road you deem unworthy."
Ren spread his hands a little, palms up.
"Guilty," he admitted.
Her lips twitched.
Only slightly.
Then that fleeting humor faded, leaving something older and deeper in its place.
"In the Divine Realm," she said slowly, "there is a place called the Verdant Feather Holy Lands."
Her words were unhurried, each one laid down like a blade placed carefully on a table.
"It was once a World King level Holy Land. My grandfather, the Verdant Feather World King, founded it and guided it."
Her eyes half-closed.
"I was its Saintess. I was… proud. Arrogant, perhaps. In the way of someone who has never completely lost."
Snow wind slid across the plain, lifting a few loose strands of her hair.
"Then my grandfather died," she went on. "And the one he trusted most—his direct disciple—revealed his fangs. He had spent many years preparing. Splitting internal factions, corrupting elders, spreading his shadow among other divine influences."
Her voice was calm.
Her expression did not twist.
But the snow beneath her hands was fracturing, tiny fissures spiderwebbing outward.
"Tian Mingzi," she said.
The name weighed heavier this time.
"He annihilated the Verdant Feather Holy Lands. He reduced me to this—"
Her gaze flicked down at her soul body, then at the Magic Cube that sealed her.
"—and forced my younger sister to flee and hide for fifty thousand years. She has lived all this time with a borrowed name, never daring to show her face beneath Verdant Feather's true banner."
Ren listened.
He didn't rush to comfort her with easy words. He didn't cut in with anger on her behalf.
He let what she said fall fully into this quiet world.
"When I first awoke in this Cube and saw the lower realms again," Mo Eversnow murmured, "I thought I would only observe. Watch some lower world genius rise. Perhaps give a few pointers. See if he could one day… help me settle that debt."
Her eyes sharpened.
"What I did not expect," she said, a breath leaving her. "…was you."
Ren tilted his head slightly.
"Oh?"
Mo Eversnow met his gaze without flinching.
"I watched you treat a Heavenly Tribulation as an annoyance," she said. "In the Divine Realm, Tian Mingzi is a poisonous dragon lurking behind the scenes. His shadow stretches over many places. In your eyes…"
She paused.
"…I see only a rat."
Ren's smile returned, light but edged.
"That's an insult," he said. "To rats."
For a heartbeat, Mo Eversnow just stared.
Then a quiet sound escaped her throat—thin, quickly buried, but unmistakable.
Almost a laugh.
"You…"
She shook her head, lashes lowering once before lifting again.
"This is what I wished to say," she continued, regaining her composure. "I intend to use you."
Ren blinked once.
"That so?" His tone held more amusement than surprise.
Mo Eversnow didn't look away.
"Yes," she said. "You are… a variable this era did not account for. Your Dao is unfathomable. Your methods do not follow any Empyrean path I have seen."
Her gaze drifted past him, toward that distant Heaven turning above his True Self.
"When you step into the Divine Realm, you will cause waves no one has prepared for. World Kings, Great World Kings, even Empyreans will misjudge you at first. I intend to use that. I intend to use your storm to uproot Tian Mingzi, to expose him, to drag him from his Skydark Holy Land and force his dog head beneath my sword."
Her fingers dug into the snow.
"Even if I must stain my Dao with causality from another world. Even if I must tie my future to yours. This is the plan I have drawn in my heart."
She fixed him with that calm, icy stare again.
"You are free to refuse," she said quietly. "You owe me nothing. I am only a remnant soul, clinging to a fragmented treasure. But if you accept, then from this day forward—my hatred of Tian Mingzi, my desire to see Verdant Feather's flag rise over his ashes—all of it will align with your path. I will not ask you to stop for me. I will merely ask…"
Her eyes cooled, turning like winter stars.
"…that when you reach that level, you remember this name."
The snow-plain fell utterly silent.
Ren didn't answer immediately.
He lifted his feet, boots whispering against snow, and walked forward.
One step, then another, unhurried, as if this distance were a ritual that needed to be respected.
He stopped just before the Magic Cube. Up close, its facets reflected his face a dozen times in the dark glass—each image a little warped, each one overlaid with countless tiny Dao lines.
He lifted his hand and lightly tapped one of its faces.
The Cube hummed.
The vibration ran through its structure, across layers of sealed arrays, down to where Mo Eversnow sat within. She felt it pass through her soul body like a ripple across a frozen pond.
"Use me, huh," Ren said softly. "That's a pretty blunt way to put it."
Mo Eversnow's lips thinned.
"I am not in the mood to dress it in polite words," she replied.
Ren's smile widened.
"Good," he said. "Neither am I."
He left his hand on the Cube.
His voice lowered, gentler than before.
"Eversnow," he said, "look at me."
She did.
She couldn't help it.
When he truly focused his gaze, it was like a gravity well—calm, dark, quietly dragging everything toward its center. For a moment, even the aurora above seemed to slow.
"First," he said, "let's clear something up. You aren't 'only' anything."
Her brows knit.
"…Ren Ming—"
He shook his head.
"I'm serious," he said. "You talk about being a remnant soul. About being forced into this Cube. About losing your Holy Land, your body, your future. What you don't mention is that instead of dispersing quietly into the Heavenly Dao, you held on."
His eyes dropped, following the fine cracks in the snow around her knees.
"You held on for fifty thousand years," he said quietly. "With nothing but hatred and will."
His tone deepened, slow and steady.
"Holding onto your life when everything is gone—when your sect is ash, your body is dust, and everyone writes you off as a footnote—that's a martial art almost no one in any world can cultivate."
Mo Eversnow's fingers stilled.
She stared at him, startled in a way she hadn't been even when he faced Heavenly Dao lightning barehanded.
Ren's smile thinned, sincerity rising to the surface.
"I've seen geniuses," he said. "World-shaking ones. People who can comprehend a Law in a few months. People who can create divine arts like they're picking flowers. But most of them… if you strip away their pride, their backing, their so-called destiny—"
He lifted his free hand, snapping his fingers once, softly.
"—they crumble."
He shook his head.
"You didn't."
His hand tapped the Cube again, knuckles making a faint, clear sound.
"You took being reduced to an 'insignificant soul' and turned it into a vantage point," he said. "You watched Holy Lands rise and fall. You let go of impatience and chose patience. You waited for the right person, the right chance. You endured, Eversnow. For fifty thousand years. I don't look down on that."
His gaze softened further.
"And this plan of yours…" His lips curved. "…you don't need to talk about 'using' me. I already intended to clean up garbage like Tian Mingzi when I reach the Divine Realm. A guy like that? I just don't like the sound of him."
His tone cooled in an instant.
Killing intent seeped out of him—not a wild blowout, but a thin, focused edge, like a blade resting against someone's neck.
The snow whispered as that intent brushed over it.
"I don't care what title he has," Ren said. "World King, Great World King, lackey of some Empyrean… doesn't matter. I'd kill him for looking at me wrong."
Mo Eversnow swallowed.
The calm mask she wore for heaven and earth wavered.
"But you…" Ren's voice gentled again. "…have priority."
She blinked.
"…What?"
"You heard me," Ren said. "I could crush him myself. That's simple. But that would be boring. And it would miss the point."
He leaned a little closer to the Cube, shadows from its facets cutting across his face.
"I want to see you smiling," he said softly. "Not that cold, polite curve you show the Divine Realm's old monsters. A real one. The kind someone has when the burden they've carried alone for fifty thousand years finally drops."
Mo Eversnow's soul heart lurched.
In this state, she had no flesh, no heartbeat—but something like it clenched and then loosened painfully in her chest.
Ren's tone stayed quiet, relaxed, but the confidence in it was absolute.
"So here's my answer," he said. "I'll walk my road. I'll keep breaking anything that thinks it can sit above me. When the time is right—when I've stepped into the Divine Realm and taken a few more steps beyond… we'll go to Skydark."
His eyes cooled, black depths darkening.
"And I'll make sure," he said, every word heavy as a hammer, "that you can take Tian Mingzi's dog head with your own hands."
The snow-plain trembled.
No external force struck it. No Law erupted.
But the impact of those words hit Mo Eversnow harder than thunder.
Dog head.
It was a crude insult, used countless times in the Divine Realm by proud geniuses and old monsters alike when they swore vengeance on their enemies. To hear it applied to Tian Mingzi, spoken so casually by a man whose Heaven had just endured the universe's wrath…
Something inside her cracked.
"Ren Ming…" she whispered.
His smile slipped back into that lazy, bright shape he wore when teasing devils and goddesses in other worlds.
"Don't misunderstand," he said. "I'm not giving you this out of pity. I respect you, Eversnow. You're a proud genius of the heavens. If I didn't think you could stand at that height again, I wouldn't bother."
His gaze turned amused, a little warmer.
"And selfishly," he added, "I want to see what a woman like you looks like when she isn't carrying ten thousand tons of ice on her shoulders."
Her face heated.
It was faint—so faint that if she still had a physical body, no mortal eye would have noticed. But here, in the nakedness of soul, the slight flush of embarrassment and something sharper was unmistakable.
"…You speak too casually," she said, voice just a little tight.
Ren chuckled under his breath.
"So I'm told."
"The point is," he continued, "you don't have to carry this alone anymore. Your revenge fits my Dao perfectly. Cleaning up a traitor who thinks he's a hidden dragon? That's just housekeeping to me."
His eyes narrowed, dangerous light flickering within.
"And if some new Empyrean or ancient old monster tries to stand in the way…"
He smiled.
"Then the fun just gets bigger."
Mo Eversnow stared at him.
She had seen arrogance before. She had watched Great World Kings boast about burning starfields. She had seen World Kings threaten to collapse worlds.
Ren Ming's confidence was different.
There was no bluster.
No need to raise his voice.
He spoke about erasing Tian Mingzi the way one might speak about chopping wood.
"You…" Her fingers loosened on her knees. "…do you truly not fear anything?"
Ren tilted his head, considering.
"Fear?" he repeated. "I have some fears."
She blinked.
"…You do?"
"Sure," he said. "I'm mostly afraid of seeing my women cry because I was too weak to protect them. I'm afraid of reaching the limit of my Dao."
A quick, sharp grin flashed across his face.
"But Tian Mingzi?" he finished. "That thing doesn't make the list."
Silence fell again.
This time, it was a warmer silence.
In the depths of her soul, something that had been wound tight for too long began to slowly unwind, like a frozen river's surface cracking with the first signs of spring.
"…Then…" She hesitated, as if afraid the answer might somehow change. "…you agree?"
Ren's reply came without the slightest pause.
"Yes," he said.
No conditions.
No bargaining.
Just that one, steady word.
Mo Eversnow's shoulders lowered a fraction.
The cracks in the snow around her knees stopped slowly spreading.
Deep inside the Magic Cube, ancient arrays shifted, responding unconsciously to the change in their mistress's Dao Heart. For fifty thousand years, that heart had wrapped itself around a single, cold thread: hatred.
Now, something else brushed against it.
Trust.
It was thin. Fragile. Tentative.
But it was there.
"…Thank you," she said quietly.
Ren smiled.
"You can pay me back later," he said. "Preferably by not throwing yourself away in some suicidal attack before I get there."
She gave him a flat, frosty look.
"I am not a child," she said.
He held up both hands in a loose surrender.
"Never said you were," he replied. "I just know how you Divine Realm geniuses like to act. 'I alone will bear this grudge.' 'I will burn my life force for revenge.' That kind of thing."
His smile turned teasing.
"It's honorable, sure," he went on. "Doesn't get much done in the end. And I don't want someone as lofty and pure as you going down that path."
"…You truly…" Mo Eversnow exhaled, a strange mix of exasperation and unwilling amusement in her tone. "…speak nonsense."
"That just means you're listening," Ren said.
He leaned closer, narrowing the distance.
"Eversnow."
Her eyes widened a fraction.
He had never stood this close before.
From inside the Cube, she could clearly see the faint, dark-rainbow lotus petals now etched along his soul body—a reflection of that newly-born Heaven. They clung to his shoulders and arms like Dao tattoos, each petal a node where grandmist and Heavenly Demon judgment met his existence. She could see the depth of his gaze—layers of worlds and Heavens folded behind his pupils like hidden galaxies.
"Remember what I said," he murmured. "One day, you won't be sitting in this Cube, watching from the sidelines. You'll be standing next to me. Flesh, blood, sword in hand."
His smile softened, almost gentle.
"When that day comes," he said, "I'll be right there. We'll walk into Skydark together. We'll make the Divine Realm remember what the name 'Verdant Feather' means. And when Tian Mingzi begs…"
His eyes turned cold enough to freeze suns.
"…I'll hold him still for you."
Mo Eversnow's fingers trembled.
"…You paint quite the scene," she said.
"I like good scenery," Ren replied. "Helps the Dao go down smooth."
He straightened.
His hand lifted, hovering for a heartbeat, then came to rest—very lightly—on the outer surface of the Magic Cube, just above where her soul body sat inside.
It wasn't truly a touch.
Soul did not meet soul.
But the intent behind that gesture flowed through the Cube's arrays, through its layers of seals and divine patterns, and lightly brushed her heart.
A promise, condensed into a single, quiet motion.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Snowflakes drifted between them, slow and silent.
Finally, Mo Eversnow looked away first.
"…Go," she said softly. "You have your own battles to fight. The world will not wait for you to finish soothing a woman's heart."
Ren chuckled.
"Who says I was soothing anything?" he said. "I was just telling the truth."
She didn't answer.
But when he drew his hand back, he saw it.
Just for an instant.
The faintest curve at the corner of her mouth.
Not the cold, polite smile of a Divine Realm Saintess.
Something smaller.
Warmer.
He didn't comment.
He only memorized it.
"Alright," he said quietly. "I'll leave the Cube to you, Saintess."
He stepped back, turning away.
His soul body began to blur, the snow-plain distorting around him like a reflection on disturbed water.
"Eversnow," his voice drifted back, lazy and bright.
She lifted her head.
"Hm?"
"Remember," he said. "One day, Tian Mingzi's dog head is yours. Try not to forget that in the middle of all that patience you're so good at."
Her throat tightened.
"…I won't," she whispered.
By the time the words left her lips, he was gone.
Only the snow remained.
The aurora rolled on in the sky.
Inside the Magic Cube, Mo Eversnow sat very still.
For a long time, she didn't move.
She let the echo of his Heaven pass over her, that grandmist Heaven that could peel apart Laws and strip them down to their origin. She imagined it descending over the Demondawn Great World, over the Skydark Demon Palace where Tian Mingzi now sat, draped in stolen authority.
She imagined a different scene than the one that had haunted her for fifty thousand years.
This time, when Verdant Feather's banner rose in her mind, it did not rise alone.
It rose beside a dark-rainbow lotus and a Heaven that did not belong to this universe.
Her lips moved, a soundless breath slipping between them.
"…Tian Mingzi."
Hatred had etched that name into her bones long ago.
Now, for the first time, another feeling threaded through the syllables.
Anticipation.