Volume 2, Chapter 61: The Crack in the Golden Hour
I've decided that the hardest part of being a professor isn't the grading. It isn't the long lectures or the constant questions from students who clearly never read the syllabus. No, the hardest part is lunch.
I was currently sitting on a wooden bench outside the local Lakan Branch Pagoda, staring at a lukewarm meat skewer. It was a bit too salty, and the wood was starting to splinter. My mortal stomach was grumbling, and I couldn't help but think that being a God was much more efficient for the digestive system. You don't have to worry about heartburn when you're made of starfire.
"Professor? You've been staring at that pork for five minutes."
I looked up. Yuhao was standing there, holding a stack of books and looking concerned. He had that earnest look in his eyes again — the one that made me feel like I should be giving him life advice instead of just trying to finish my meal.
"It's a standoff, Yuhao," I said, leaning back and giving him a confident grin. "The pork wants to be eaten, and I want to make sure it doesn't give me a stomach ache during the three o'clock lecture. It's a battle of wills."
Yuhao chuckled and sat down on the other end of the bench. "I don't think the pork has a say in it, Professor."
"That's where you're wrong. Everything has a say. Even the grease."
I tossed the stick into a nearby bin and stretched. My back popped — a loud, satisfying sound that made a group of passing students jump. I looked toward the Pagoda. It was a beautiful structure, tall and white, with the Baybayin marking for Light etched into the stone. It hummed with a soft, steady resonance that kept the air in the square feeling clean.
But then I felt a ripple.
It wasn't a big ripple. It was small, like a single drop of ink falling into a glass of clear water. It didn't come from the sky or the ground. It came from the crowd.
I turned my head. Walking toward the square was a girl.
She looked like she didn't belong in the city. She had long, flowing hair that looked like it was spun from actual gold, and her eyes were a deep, vibrant pink — like the color of a sunset just before it fades into night. She was wearing simple clothes, but she carried herself with a weight that made the space around her seem to bend.
She was the Auspicious Beast. Wang Qiu'er.
She wasn't in her dragon form, but the truth of the forest followed her like a shadow. To anyone else, she was just a stunningly beautiful girl. But to me? She was a piece of the world's heart that had decided to go for a walk.
"Who is that?" Yuhao whispered.
He was staring at her. I could see the All-Seeing Library flickering behind his eyes. He wasn't just looking at her face; he was seeing the lack of friction. She moved with a resonance so pure it was almost silent.
"Someone who's a long way from home," I said quietly.
Qiu'er stopped. She looked at the Pagoda, then her gaze drifted toward our bench. She didn't look at me — I was doing a very good job of being a boring professor with a squeaky boot — but she looked at Yuhao. She tilted her head, her expression unreadable.
Yuhao stood up, his books almost slipping from his grip. "Hello," he said, his voice a bit higher than usual.
She didn't answer. She just looked at him, then at the glowing Baybayin markings on the Pagoda walls. She looked like she was trying to remember something she had forgotten a long time ago.
And then the world stopped being pretty.
•••••
While we were having a moment in the sun, things were much darker in the hollows of the Hell Road.
Chen Feng stood in a chamber that smelled like ozone and wet iron. On a stone slab in front of him lay a man — a low-level soul master who had been snatched off the streets of a border town. The man was unconscious, his breath shallow.
"Are you sure about this?" Chen Feng asked, his hands hovering over a glowing blue interface that only he could see.
"The Sovereign's world is a cage of order," the Bishop said, standing in the shadows behind him. "If we want to break the cage, we must introduce something that the cage doesn't know how to hold. Use your outside knowledge, traveler. Show me the power of the broken method."
Chen Feng swallowed hard. He felt like he was about to cross a line he couldn't uncross. But the System was screaming at him.
[Warning: Local Resonance is at 98%.]
[Action Required: Inject corruption to destabilize local conditions.]
"Fine," Chen Feng muttered.
He didn't use a soul skill. He used the fixed calculation he had been building — the cold, rigid rules from his old world. He pressed his hand to the man's chest, and a stream of jagged, flickering blue light poured out of his palm.
It wasn't soul power. It was raw, cold information.
On Earth, people used math to build machines. They used fixed rules to make things predictable. But when you force that kind of rigid calculation into a living soul that is designed to move with the universe, it doesn't create a machine. It creates a broken thing.
The man on the slab began to convulse. His skin didn't change color; it turned grey, like ash. His bones began to shift, making a sound like dry branches snapping. But the horrifying part was the metal.
From beneath his skin, silver plates began to emerge. They weren't growing like armor; they were forcing their way out. They were jagged, unpolished, and held together by thick black oil that leaked from the man's pores. His left arm fused with a long, serrated blade made of a heavy industrial steel that should not exist in this world.
The man's eyes opened. They weren't eyes anymore. They were glowing red slits filled with scrolling lines of rigid commands.
"It… it worked," Chen Feng whispered, his face pale.
"It is a monster," the Bishop said, sounding almost pleased. "It doesn't sing. It doesn't breathe. It just… functions."
"Go," Chen Feng commanded the creature. "Find the nearest Pagoda. Find the resonance. And break it."
The creature stood up. It didn't move like a human. It moved in sharp, jittery bursts, its metal joints screaming with every step. It didn't leave a footprint; it left a burn mark.
••••••
Back in the square, the air suddenly went cold.
The beautiful golden hour light seemed to turn grey. People stopped talking. The birds in the trees went silent. I felt it first — a jagged, screeching vibration that felt like a nail being scraped across a chalkboard.
SCREECH.
The ground at the edge of the square exploded.
The Mecha-Beast lunged out of the dust. It didn't roar. It didn't shout. It just made a high-pitched electronic whine that made the students in the square collapse, clutching their ears.
It was a nightmare of flesh and gears. One side of its body was still human, the skin stretched tight over the metal frame, while the other side was a mess of hydraulic pistons and sharp edges. It ignored the people. It focused entirely on the white stone of the Pagoda.
It lunged, its serrated blade-arm glowing with a sick, flickering light.
"Yuhao! Get back!" I shouted, dropping the "Professor" act for a second.
Yuhao didn't run. He couldn't. The girl — Qiu'er — was standing right in the creature's path. She didn't look scared. She looked disgusted.
"That thing," she said, her voice like cold honey. "It has no soul. It's… empty."
The creature swung its blade. Qiu'er didn't move, but Yuhao did.
He used the Agaw technique. He didn't try to block the blade; he grabbed the creature's mechanical wrist and used its own momentum to pull it past the girl. But the moment his hand touched the metal, he gasped.
"It's cold!" Yuhao yelled. "Professor, there's no movement of energy! I can't catch the rhythm!"
That was the danger of Chen Feng's outside knowledge. You can't use the Eight-Directional Flow if there is no flow to begin with. The creature was a static object, a piece of heavy machinery forced into motion. It didn't have a soul-rhythm for Yuhao to intercept.
The beast kicked Yuhao, sending him flying across the square. He hit the stone floor hard, his books scattering.
"Yuhao!" I started to step forward, my hand going to my glasses. I was ready to open the Star Points and turn this thing into a paperweight.
But I stopped.
Qiu'er had moved. She wasn't using a soul ring. She wasn't using a technique. She just reached out and caught the creature's next strike with her bare hand.
The sound of metal hitting her palm was like a hammer hitting an anvil. The creature's blade-arm groaned, the gears inside stripping as it tried to push through her. She didn't budge. Her golden hair began to glow with an intense, warm light — the light of the Auspicious Beast.
"You are noisy," she said, her eyes flashing pink. "And you do not belong here."
She punched the creature. It was a simple, straight strike, but it carried the weight of the entire Star Dou Forest. The rigid armor on the creature's chest shattered like glass. The black oil sprayed across the white stone, and the creature was sent tumbling back into the center of the square.
It didn't die. It just twitched, its red eyes flickering as it tried to restart.
••••
I saw the Pagoda start to flicker. The Baybayin markings on its walls were beginning to turn a dull, sickly purple. The creature wasn't just attacking the stone; its presence was leaking corruption into the resonance network of the city.
If I didn't act, the entire local grid would crash.
"Alright," I muttered, adjusting my glasses. "Fun's over."
I didn't run. I just walked. I walked right past Yuhao, who was struggling to get back up, and right past the golden-haired girl who was staring at the monster with a look of pure confusion.
I stopped in front of the twitching Mecha-Beast.
"You know," I said, looking down at it. "I really hate it when people mess with the decor. It took a long time to get these Pagodas right."
The creature lunged at me, its mechanical arm whining as it aimed for my throat.
I didn't use a punch. I didn't use a kick. I just tapped the creature on the forehead with my index finger.
I opened one Star Point — just one. I injected a single, pure vibration of the Sovereign's presence directly into the creature's core.
The effect was instant. The rigid calculation inside the man's soul didn't just stop; it was overwritten. The metal plates didn't shatter — they dissolved. The black oil turned back into soul power and evaporated into the air.
The man who had been the monster slumped to the ground, unconscious but human once again. The corruption was gone.
I turned back to the Pagoda. I waved my hand, and the purple tint in the Baybayin markings faded, returning to a bright, healthy white.
"There," I said, dusting off my hands. "Much better."
I looked at the kids. Yuhao was staring at me, his mouth open. Qiu'er was staring at me too, but her expression was different. She looked like she had finally recognized something familiar.
"You," she whispered, her eyes wide.
"Me," I said with a confident grin. I adjusted my glasses and looked at Yuhao. "And you, Yuhao. You did well. You realized the problem. You couldn't find the flow because there wasn't one. That's an important lesson. Sometimes, you have to bring your own flow to the fight."
I turned to the girl. "And you… you should probably get some lunch. You look like you've been traveling a long time."
I didn't wait for her to answer. I turned and started walking back toward the Academy. My back was still aching, and I was still hungry.
"Professor!" Yuhao called out, running to catch up. "Wait! What was that thing? And who is she?"
"One thing at a time, Yuhao," I said, putting my hands in my pockets. "But for now, just know that the world is getting a bit noisier. We're going to need to practice your Fist Intent a bit more."
As we walked away, I looked back over my shoulder one last time. Wang Qiu'er was still standing in the square, the golden sun highlighting her hair. She was looking at Yuhao.
'Well,' I thought to myself. 'This is certainly getting interesting.'
End of Volume 2, Chapter 61