The rain in Seventh Alley was still sour.
Lin Yao knelt in the Watchpoint ruins, mud barely reaching his knees. His left hand plunged into scorched earth—not digging, but burying.
The seed. Qing He's vine root. Kael's life.
"Live…" he gasped, blood foam at his lips. "…Live for me!"
Right hand pressed the soil. Compass gray mist seeped in, mingling with mud. Gold (Spirit) and blue (Machina) light swirled around the seed—
Hiss!
The seed split.
Tender sprouts exploded! Vines like snakes, slithering into rebar, shattered mirrors, stone fragments… wrapping, twisting, weaving!
Three minutes.
A small tower rose.
Not tall. Three men high. Skeleton of steel, sinews of green vine, skin of shattered mirror. At the core, half a blue stone—the Watchpoint's final glow still alive.
The top… empty.
Missing the final "core."
Lin Yao looked at Rhea.
She understood, taking out Kael's prism—gold-purple light jittering in her palm.
"Really putting it in?" Her hand shook. "This thing… could blow up stars."
"Not putting it in," Lin Yao's voice was hoarse. "…Inviting it to live inside."
He took the prism, pressed his right hand on the tower's core groove—
Didn't insert.
Just held it.
Like the first-generation Keeper's jade skeleton holding the compass.
"Yinglong," he whispered, not pleading, "…hear me."
"The Bone Tower fell. Kael left. Qing He is near death."
"Fen Tian Jian still drains your blood."
"…Wake up."
"…Or die waiting."
Three seconds.
The core blue stone glowed.
Not gold, not blue. Green.
Vines surged! Wrapping the prism, lightly pushing—
The prism flew into the core on its own!
Vzzz!
The entire Watchpoint lit up!
Not a blue-gold spiral. Green-gold-purple, twisted into one, piercing the clouds!
The clouds split.
A dragon silhouette appeared.
Not a juvenile cloud dragon, but Yinglong.
Gold scales like mountains, horns twisted like ancient pines, whiskers descending a thousand meters. But it didn't roar.
Slowly, it lowered its head, hovering three meters above Lin Yao.
A dragon eye opened.
Left gold, right purple.
Deep in the pupil, Lin Yao reflected—left eye empty, right eye bleeding, left hand dangling, right hand holding blue stone.
Dragon mouth moved.
Voice—not thunder, but a deep male tone, with laughter:
"…Little one."
"Finally… someone dares… scold me."
Lin Yao's legs went weak. He knelt. Not fear. Shock.
Yinglong… speaks human words?!
"You…" his throat cracked, "…understand?"
"I understand," the dragon pupil squinted, "And your scolding… not bad."
"Fen Tian Jian drained my blood… seven hundred years."
"Almost forgot how to roar."
Dragon lowered its head, nose almost touching Lin Yao's forehead—
"But that line of yours…"
"'Wake up, or die waiting'…"
"…Just like when I scolded the Zhenxing League sons back then."
Lin Yao froze.
Rhea even forgot to raise her dagger: "…Back then?"
Dragon tail swished, sweeping clouds aside—revealing Aethra mountains below.
A beam of gold light shot down, illuminating the Watchpoint ruins.
Qing He lay by the spirit spring, left arm charred, right arm bleeding, chest barely rising.
Her lips moved.
Not telepathy. Real voice. Hoarse as sandpaper on iron, yet clear:
"…Grandpa… Dragon…"
Yinglong pupil trembled.
"…Little sprout."
"Your father… called me that back then too."
Lin Yao's mind exploded!
Qing He… had a father?!
Yinglong… recognized her?!
Dragon head turned to Lin Yao, gold-purple eyes swirling:
"Want the heart core?"
"Can have it."
"But first, promise me three things."
"You say."
"One, don't call it 'material.'"
"It's my heart."
"Two, don't let the Seven Luminaries… touch her." (Dragon whiskers lightly swept Qing He's direction)
"Three," dragon gaze sharpened, "…Take her… home."
"Home?" Lin Yao croaked.
"When Taiyi was whole… home."
Dragon lifted head slowly, claw pressed left chest—
Gold-purple light surged!
A walnut-sized heart core emerged from the dragon.
Not crystal. Alive, beating, gold-purple veins pulsing like breathing.
"Take it."
"For your… counter-extraction device."
Lin Yao reached—
Fingertips almost touched—
Boom!!!
Sky split!
Not clouds. Space itself tore!
A silver light like a blade cut the heavens!
Watchpoint beam severed!
Blue light extinguished.
Dragon pupil narrowed sharply:
"…Wu."
"Space Folds."
Within the silver light, a figure stepped forward.
Armorless. White robes. Handsome, but eyes… no pupils. Just silver-white mirrors.
He raised a hand, lightly sliced.
The ground beneath Lin Yao—vanished.
Not collapsed. Cut away, floating midair, edges smooth as glass.
Patrolling Angel·Wu.
"Lin Yao," he spoke, gentle as a teacher to a student,
"Hand over the heart core. Compass. …And the dragon."
"I can guarantee you three survive… until the Dark Tide ends."
Rhea dagger across chest, left arm veins bulging: "…Survive? Like Kael?"
Wu smiled: "Kael? Oh… that broken key." He shook his head, regretful. "Could have become Patrolling Angel·Ding."
Lin Yao didn't answer.
He pressed right hand on chest compass—
"Third Resonance!"
Vzzz—!!!
Blue light erupted!
Not attacking Wu. Shielding the dragon heart core!
Heart core wrapped in blue light, whoosh, shot into Rhea—
"Catch it!"
Rhea instinctively did. The heart core burned like charcoal, yet warmth rushed to her chest—right shoulder Xihua wound stopped hurting for the first time.
Wu's smile faded.
"…Foolish."
He raised a hand, sliced again.
This time toward Yinglong!
Space crack spider-webbed, rushing at dragon head!
Yinglong did not dodge. Eyes blazed gold-purple—
"Little one," it whispered, "…run."
Dragon tail swept fiercely!
Not attacking Wu. Sweeping Watchpoint!
Boom!
Small tower collapsed!
But core blue stone survived. Wrapped prism shot to Lin Yao—
He caught it, turned to Rhea: "Go!"
Wu's silver eyes narrowed: "…Escaping?"
He lifted a foot, lightly stepped.
Entire Seventh Alley—folded!
Alley bent like paper, exits gone.
They were trapped in a silver cage.
Wu slowly approached, white robes drifting like a moonlit ghost.
"Last time," he whispered,
"Hand it over."
Lin Yao leaned against broken wall, right hand clutching blue stone, left arm dangling, numb.
Rhea dagger across chest, heart core in left palm burning hot.
Yinglong hovered midair, head lowered, eyes… slowly closing.
"…Run." Last whisper. "…Take her… home."
Lin Yao drew a deep breath, acid rain filling his throat.
He laughed.
Pale, but real.
"Wu." His voice hoarse,
"Have you… tried touching the mirror?"
Wu paused.
Silver eyes… flickered.
—Like a glitch.
Like… a memory.
🪞 Author's Note
Yinglong speaking human words—deleted, rewrote eight times.
Some gods must be human first, to be worthy of godhood.
Next chapter: Folded Alley Battle.
—KHChing