On the westward aerial route from Beluke Province, crossing the treacherous strait, lay an aviation checkpoint. A long queue of skyships and transports waited their turn. When the sleek, onyx-and-teal hull of vessel 5266, the Shadow Heron, transmitted its clearance codes, the station attendant's eyes widened slightly. A quick report was made to the supervisor.
"Bearer of a Temple Violet-Grade Medal. Classified Temple mission. Likely an Attendant-level powerhouse. Clear it immediately. And scrub the log."
"Understood."
Once the ship passed, Yao aboard had already completed the mental and spiritual synchronization with her Oxus body. The vessel, purchased through Temple channels, made posing as a mid-level operative simple. The medal was privilege incarnate. This particular checkpoint was Temple-affiliated, not fully under state control—a chosen convenience.
Beyond the station, the ship's AI piloted it along the pre-plotted course. On the satellite chart, the temporary destination was the Playa Glacier Range, thirty thousand kilometers to the west. The course was set, but Yao, using her S-Class student privileges from Dongguan's library, pulled up the complete imperial atlas on the bridge's main holoscreen. The Glacier Range was merely a mid-journey waypoint. Her final destination depended on meteorological data she needed to gather there.
The imperial map was standard, but the detail accessible to an S-Class student—on par with a senior professor—was staggering. She projected it, her mind sifting through layers of half-remembered lore from another life. She had a target.
"For a successful racial conversion, three locations are optimal," she murmured, the blue light of the screen washing over her focused features. "Primary condition: ambient light-element concentration above 50%. Secondary, for the Solarflare Crane: spatial element above 20%. Crunching the numbers… only three zones in and around Beluke satisfy both." Her finger traced the glowing topography. "Bonefall Canyon. Crimson Snow Parasol Mountain. The Arona Rainforest."
Arona was the original plan. But obtaining the Cinder-Orchid Drake egg for Oxus had shifted her calculus. "The Xie clan established their seat in Beluke for a reason. The progenitor's initial contact with the Spirit Orchid, the mutation point, must be within this general region, likely not deep within any province's administered territory. The border wilds between provinces—dangerous enough to deter casual exploration, yet close enough for the clan to secretly access." A clan guarding the secret of bloodline enhancement via the orchid would crave a backup source, even with their cultivated grove.
"So, the true, wild orchid habitats are likely here." A light-pen circled a vast swath of territory encompassing Crimson Snow Parasol Mountain and the Arona Rainforest, plus a dozen other wilderness zones and even a stretch of sea—nearly three hundred thousand square kilometers. Still massive.
Bonefall Canyon, far to the north in Radiance Province, was out. Her thoughts spun further. "The Cinder Drake is a symbiotic beast to the orchid. The orchid itself is space, light, and spirit-aligned. No fire. Yet the Drake possesses molten magma and crimson flame abilities—intense fire. Therefore, its native environment must also possess a potent fire element." The light-pen circled again, highlighting a volcanic chain. "The Asler Volcanic Belt. Fifteen active volcanoes, considered the barren source for the eastern provinces. The heat sterilizes the land, limiting flora—the foundation of elemental ecosystems. It creates harsh geography… and very specific, rare niches."
This new circle excluded Arona but firmly encompassed Crimson Snow Parasol Mountain. The plan solidified: convert at the Mountain, then use it as a base to explore the Asler Belt for wild orchids. More primal orchids meant a greater boost for Oxus's bloodline and a better chance at awakening the Drake. "Resources don't fall into your lap. You hunt, you strategize, you seize them." A resource broker's creed.
Having a destination was good. Yet Yao frowned. Of all options, Crimson Snow Parasol Mountain was the most perilous. She'd have preferred Arona. "That region is shared territory for a branch of the Mechanus—the Aoin—and the Crimson Earth Dwarves. Both are notoriously bloodthirsty, militant races with deep-seated enmity towards humans." Where the elements coalesced favorably, native life had already taken root. Entering their domain meant invading their home.
The Aoin, especially, were a nightmare. Few in number, but each adult was at least Level 50, a natural-born Taboo Master from birth, with racial gifts surpassing even Yao's current specs. A single adult Aoin meant a fight she'd likely lose. Even with both bodies merged, it would be a stalemate at best. A higher-level one? Begging or fleeing were the only options.
Fortune favors the bold, and the stupid,she sighed internally. Arona would take two months round-trip, conflicting with the Economic Division's timeline and forfeiting the Orange-grade pet egg.
"But, Sister," a tiny, worried voice piped up in her mind. Little Huang, the mole. "You already have me, and Big Red, plus the future Solarflare Crane and the sleeping Drake… that's four pets! I'm fine, I grew from Green grade, I don't take much will. Big Red is manageable. But those two… high pedigree, strong races, they'll demand a huge share of your mental focus. Even the Yun family specialists would struggle. Are you sure?"
"If I can't handle it, I'll sell them," Yao replied mentally, her tone pragmatic. "They're not worthless."
Little Huang: "?!"
Well then. My sister is nothing if not practical.
"Then consider selling Big Red. He's not as strong as the other two, and still takes up will. Sell him."
Big Red, the slumbering drake: "?!"
I'm not even awake yet, and you worm dare backstab me?!
The expensive ship lived up to its price. Fifteen hours of continuous, high-velocity flight brought the Playa Glacier Range into view—a jagged, endless expanse of white and blue under a pale sky. Destination confirmed: Crimson Snow Parasol Mountain. Now, to choose the optimal route from here, requiring on-site meteorological analysis for the safest, fastest path.
Top-tier equipment, advanced academic theory. Yao spent thirty minutes on a mountain ledge, deploying sensors, her breath frosting in the thin, biting air. Calculations scrolled. Five potential routes emerged.
"This one is shortest. One day. But it skirts the edge of a predicted extreme cold front. Even a Level 80 could perish trapped in that."
"This one is safer… but seven days. Too long."
"This one…"
She narrowed it to two. One: three days, minimal cold front risk. Two: two days, possible peripheral brush with the front's chilling effects. Saving a day was precious. She cross-referenced the predicted temperature minima with the ship's thermal shielding specs, confirming it could maintain operational integrity. She chose the two-day route. As a final precaution, she programmed the sensors with a critical temperature alert.
A day and a half later. The ship cruised over the eastern reaches of the Playa Range. Yao was in the training module, practicing a detached spirit-attunement Principle. The blaring alarm shattered her focus.
The temperature threshold.
She was at the bridge in seconds, analyzing the data feed. The current temperature was acceptable, but the graph showed a perfectly sinusoidal wave pattern. Too regular.It indicated a massive, stable cold front system far ahead, its influence creating rhythmic pressure waves. Once within a critical distance, the Roche Limit for fluid dynamics kicked in, and temperatures would plunge chaotically.
A direct hit was likely.
"Thisunlucky?" A wry twist of her lips. She immediately triggered the ship's high-temperature pre-ignition sequence, forcing the engines and hull to burn energy at a furious rate, generating a cocoon of intense heat. If caught, the ship would flash-freeze without it. The cost was astronomical: one thousand Blue Coins worth of energy stones vaporized every ten minutes.
After initiating the protocol, she didn't stay at the helm. Her piloting was mediocre at best. Instead, she sprinted to the auxiliary bay where a smaller, agile sky-skiff was docked—her lifeboat. She prepped it, warming its systems, strapping in. One hour passed. The ship held its course, steadily putting distance between itself and the expanding blue blotch of death on the tactical screen. The Mountain region drew closer. She allowed herself a sliver of relief, checking her communicator. Messages flooded in, mostly ignored. A few from academy contacts noted the three Dongke Violet-Blood scions had abruptly returned home, summoned for some clan trial or dungeon. Carolodier speculated it was pressure from Oxus and Wei Mingtang driving them to power-level.
Another, from Zhou Miao: Since you're out, I'll tell people I took you for training. The Xies can corroborate. No need to rush back. Troublesome winds are blowing here. A month of instability. You're safer outside.
Yao's frown deepened. It aligned. Beluke was a powder keg. The Economic Division needed her. Liu Wushi deemed her involvement optional. Zhou Miao wanted her clear. She was pondering these differing stances when her communicator's signal bar died. One second to zero.
No.
Simultaneously, the ship's AI blared: "COLD FRONT INTERCEPT. COLD FRONT INTERCEPT. EVASIVE MANEUVERS ENGAGED. COURSE ALTERED."
"HULL PRE-HEAT ACTIVE. SYSTEMS NOMINAL. MASTER, BE ADVISED. BE ADVISED."
Of course.
The tactical display showed the ship veering sharply away from a raging, cerulean tempest. The front was expanding viciously, but their head start and prepared heat shield seemed to be working. The distance, though terrifying, appeared stable. Escape was possible. Yao's finger rested on the skiff's launch trigger, her expression carved from ice.
Fifteen minutes. A harrowing dance on the edge of a frozen abyss, but the ship was winning. Three thousand kilometers to the mountain pass. Ten more minutes. Beyond the pass, the Asler Volcanic Belt's geothermal fury would disrupt the front. Safety.
"ESCAPE TRAJECTORY CONFIRMED. SHIFTING TO STABLE CRUISE. MASTER, PLEASE—"
The AI's voice cut off. Yao heard it then—a faint, high-pitched screech, like crystal tearing. Alive.
Her Psychic Ocular activated, vision piercing the hull. The world outside was a howling, indigo hell at nearly -3000°C, the theoretical lower limit for the planet. Her spiritual sight was unimpeded. And she saw it: a streak of blinding azure light ripped outof the heart of the front itself. It moved at 1.5 times the ship's max speed, closing the gap in seconds. The ship's sensors barely registered it before the thing was upon them.
Doomed!
Yao slammed the launch trigger.
At the same instant—BOOM!
The Shadow Heronwas speared through its midsection by a sleek, crystalline form. Hull plates screamed. The skiff shot clear as the main ship shuddered violently, alarms painting the bay crimson. The attacker—a giant, seven-meter-long bird of frozen sapphire—shrieked, poised to shred the ship and pursue the escaping skiff.
"Detonation protocol. Execute."
KABOOM!
Yao remote-detonated the main ship's remaining energy core as the creature was partially still inside. The blast was a miniature sun—the equivalent of a Level 70 Temple Elder's self-immolation. The azure bird was engulfed, its shriek of fury and pain swallowed by the inferno.
Five hundred meters out, skiff racing, Yao watched the explosion via rear cam. No time for relief. From the dying fireball, the bird emerged. The explosion's heat was snuffed instantly by a wave of absolute cold emanating from its body. The shattered ship fragments flash-froze into glittering, grotesque sculpture. The bird shook off remnants of flame, its plumage now the color of glacial ice at midnight, each feather a honed blade of cold. It was breathtakingly beautiful. And utterly lethal.
"Orange-grade… Frost-Glare Falcon. Level 70." Her face paled. It was wounded, smoking, but already the freezing air was knitting its feathers back together. It gave chase.
Yao pushed the skiff to its limit, aiming for the highest, narrowest crevasse in the final mountain ridge. The Falcon shrieked, firing lances of condensed frost. Yao's Ocular tracked the trajectories; the skiff juked and weaved. A lance missed, exploding against a cliff face. She plunged the skiff into the crack. It fit. The massive bird did not. It banked upward, soaring over the ridge to attack from above. A temporary reprieve. She could dodge from within the canyon.
"Cunning human! I will feast on you tonight!" it roared, its voice the sound of cracking glaciers.
Yao was about to attempt a parley when a new warning flashed. Temperature. Plummeting. The missed frost-lances hadn't dissipated; they'd birthed dozens of miniature vortexes, sucking all heat from the canyon. The skiff's heaters were failing. Frost crawled across the viewport. The air inside turned knife-sharp.
Damn it!She burned the skiff's last reserves in a desperate burst, shooting out the far end of the crevasse. The Falcon was waiting. A plummeting dive, talons like frozen adamantine. They closed around the skiff.
CRUNCH.
The skiff imploded.
But the Falcon felt no life extinguished. What?It scanned, senses flaring. There!A luminous figure streaking abovethe canyon rim, near its original dive point. Faster. Much faster than the skiff.
"You will not escape!"
Yao, her four Aberrant Wings a blur of motion, was flying under her own power now, hurtling towards the final mountain peak. She had to clear it!
"Futile!"
The wounded Falcon gave chase. Its power dwarfed hers. Flight was her only hope. In a lethal race, Yao's wings pushed her 30% faster than the ship's top speed. The Falcon, even injured, managed 50%. The gap closed. A hundred meters. Fifty.
As it entered what it deemed optimal range, it gathered frost for a final blast.
Yao spun in mid-air.
Psychic Ocular: Probabilistic God-Slaying. Arcane Lock.
Please, work!
MISS!The spiritual severance failed.
But the Arcane Lockstuck. For one precious, stolen second, the Falcon's connection to the elements stuttered.
One second was all she needed. Her Ocular beam wasn't aimed at the bird. It sliced across the mountain peak's overhanging cornice of billion-ton ice and snow.
ROOOOAR!
The avalanche was a white, world-ending tsunami. It crashed down upon the hovering Falcon. Even a creature of ice could not withstand that sheer, crushing momentum. It was hammered from the sky, buried under an ocean of snow.
Yao crested the peak, a desperate arc against the gray sky. Behind her, a fury that shook the mountain. The Falcon, in its death-throes before burial, had summoned the peak's own storm. A blistering cyclone of ice and wind slammed into Yao's back.
WHUMP!
Her wings buckled. Golden Radiance Rakshasa Vines erupted from her skin, weaving a protective cocoon. The impact was like being hit by a continent. She was thrown, tumbling, a broken doll in a hurricane.
Below lay the Asler Belt—a raging, orange-and-black scar of cooling and bubbling magma rivers. She fell, consciousness flickering. At the last moment, instinct fired. Wings snapped out, catching a blistering updraft from the magma. She skimmed the surface, the heat scorching her skin and vines. A minute of agony, a fight against gravity and pain, and she cleared the river, crashing through a canopy and plunging into a large, steaming geothermal pool.
Hot water enveloped her. Silence, save for the bubbling spring and her own ragged gasps. For half a second, there was only relief.
Then she surfaced, and her blood ran cold.
Thirty meters away, in a clearing at the pool's edge, a battle of cataclysmic proportions was underway. One combatant was a being of polished chrome and humming energy—a Mechanus Aoin. The other was a humanoid youth. And both had just frozen, their attention ripped from each other and locked squarely on her.
Yao: "…"
In that singular, absurd moment of clarity, a thought crystallized. This wasn't her luck. This was 100% the residue of Qin Minfeng's protagonist-field, his harem-attracting destiny. If that youth had been a woman, with that level of ethereal beauty and palpably abnormal aura, she'd have been a prime candidate for Qin Minfeng's future spouse roster.
But for her? The youth and the Aoin, momentarily united in their surprise, had their last, clashing attacks hurtling towards the pool. Towards her.
No time to dodge.
BOOM!