"I have a friend," Herta said. "She has a rather strong interest in the field of life research…"
Eisen gave a small nod, signaling for her to continue.
"In the information you provided about that world, there really are plenty of cases and techniques involving biological modification. Some of them are worth referencing. But…"
Herta paused, then pivoted sharply.
"Ether's 'rank' is indeed high—I'll grant you that. The problem is, it's currently confined to a single-planet scale. In the end, the scope is still a bit… small."
"If that so-called Origin truly gains full control of the planet and then extends its reach into the broader universe, maybe it would provide more valuable samples and ideas."
"But based on what I know right now, my evaluation of that world's bio-modification tech is—"
She spoke two words lightly.
"Average."
In her eyes, those techniques would be, at best, an oddly flavored dessert for Ruan Mei—something to taste for novelty. They were nowhere near enough to genuinely help her.
"And there's another key limitation," Herta added, a hint of annoyance in her tone.
"Once Ether leaves the world it was born in and comes here, it becomes completely incompatible. You can do theoretical inference, play with paper models—but you can't actually get your hands on it for real research."
She tilted her head, looking at Eisen with eyes that glittered with pure curiosity.
"So here's the question: We're both talking about 'power from outside the universe.' Why can you create something like Mirror—something that can rival an Aeon—while Ether becomes useless the moment it crosses the boundary?"
Eisen fell silent for a moment, organizing his explanation.
Then he spoke evenly.
"The core difference is whether the power originates internally or externally."
"My power belongs entirely to myself. Every authority, every right—I carry it within. I am a complete world."
Then he explained the limits of an internally sourced powerhouse when entering other universes.
"How much power I can display in any given universe depends on that world's upper limit and compatibility. The higher the ceiling and the better the compatibility, the smaller the rule conflict—and the more complete my power becomes."
He paused, and his tone carried the faintest trace of disdain.
"And if necessary, I can ignore compatibility and forcibly embed the First Flame's rules into the target world's foundation, allowing me to display my full strength."
He stopped there—he didn't mention the consequences.
And Herta wasn't naive enough to think there would be none.
Eisen continued, "But Ether, or your universe's Paths—those are power systems sourced from outside. Unless you can absorb the entire Ether system, or the Imaginary Tree itself, into your being and make it part of you…"
"Once you leave the original world, the link to the source is cut. Their defining properties collapse."
He looked at Herta.
"So what you really want to ask is whether there exists an off-world life-tech system that can function normally in your universe—something advanced enough to matter."
Herta curved her lips slightly and nodded.
"Exactly."
She already knew the answer. Firefly was proof.
That Glamoth knight who had once been tortured by entropy-loss syndrome—now not only fully cured, but transformed into a flawless "insect-human," stepping a long way down the Path of Propagation.
In fact, aside from the Propagation Aeon Tayzzyronth, she was arguably among the farthest-walking existences on that Path.
Herta did think Firefly was being… influenced a bit too deeply at this point—constantly clinging to "Star" like her life depended on it.
But in some sense, Firefly and Propagation were a mutual choice.
In this universe, ideals and Paths always shaped each other—empowering and shackling at the same time.
Eisen nodded, smiling warmly.
"In that case, I do have a gift that should suit your friend."
As he spoke, he extended his left hand again.
This time, there was no black void swallowing light.
Instead, an orange-red flame flared into existence in his palm.
Hot. Bright. Pulsing with a surging rhythm of life.
It was nothing like the pale flame he'd shown before—made from a shard of his own soul—misty and unreal.
This orange blaze was closer to a true fire: tangible, alive, brimming with vitality.
The light around it shimmered and warped, painting the entire laboratory in warm orange hues. The air itself seemed to fill with an invisible heat that felt… alive.
Herta's gaze snapped to it, held fast. She could sense an ancient aura buried in the flame.
Then Eisen slowly raised his right hand, fingers closing into a blade, and brought it down—calmly—toward his left forearm, near the elbow.
There was no crack of bone.
No spray of blood.
It was like a hot knife slicing through chilled butter—smooth to the point of absurdity.
Orange sparks—like living fireflies—spilled from the cut, drifted, and faded out in midair.
His left forearm separated cleanly from his body.
It didn't fall.
It hovered, held up by some unseen force.
At the severed edge, orange fire surged wildly.
Under their eyes, the detached arm began to change in a way that defied common sense:
Skin rapidly darkened into a deep brown woodgrain. Muscle fibers twisted into knotted wooden structure. The transformation was so fast it felt like a blink.
In moments, the severed arm had become a crude, ancient-looking wooden lampstand.
And at its top—right where the fingers should have been—the orange-red flame still burned steadily.
Almost at the exact instant his arm detached, the stump on Eisen's body blurred and flickered, as if reality skipped a frame.
Then his left arm was whole again, as though nothing had ever happened.
With his restored left hand, he calmly grasped the lampstand formed from his own forearm.
"In my world," Eisen said, his voice low, like someone reciting an old creation myth, "everything begins with fire."
"The First Flame split into four parts, each bearing an authority—Life, Death, Time, and Space. This flame is a fragment of the Authority of Life."
His eyes rested on the orange fire.
"Of course, because the underlying rules are fundamentally different, it can't let your friend create life freely. For fire to burn—so it can light the world—it needs fuel."
"And the fuel it requires is—"
"Souls," Herta cut in instantly.
"And our world doesn't have souls."
She understood at once: in her hands, this Authority of Life couldn't unleash its original effects.
Eisen's smile deepened with approval. Speaking to someone genuinely intelligent saved endless explanation.
"Yes. If this system—using souls as fuel to create life—were in my hands, and I weren't restricting the scale of souls consumed, it could create beings on the same scale as your Aeons."
"But in your hands…"
He sounded faintly apologetic.
"I'm afraid its might will be drastically reduced. It may even seem useless."
Herta, however, showed no disappointment at all.
She stared at the living fire, eyes glittering.
"More than enough."
Her voice carried that peculiar excitement only true research fanatics could manage.
"Just the fact that it functions normally here—as a life system completely independent of the Imaginary Tree and the Paths, rooted in fire and soul—its value is immeasurable."
"How strong it is comes second. What matters is that it offers an entirely new angle for analyzing the essence of Life's authority."
Her words accelerated, rising in pitch as her excitement climbed. She was clearly delighted with the gift.
Then her rationality snapped back into place, and she examined the flame with a sharp, clinical gaze.
For rigor—and for Ruan Mei's safety—she asked one question.
"Is the flame itself dangerous?"
Eisen fell silent.
A memory flashed through him: Izalith, swallowed by distorted life-flame, turned into a nightmare womb and demon nest.
That ruined kingdom—rotted by runaway vitality—was the best example of what "life" looked like when it lost all restraint.
He nodded, his voice turning grave.
"It holds danger. When life runs out of control, it breeds the most twisted nightmares."
"But…"
He pointed to the lampstand.
"As long as the flame does not leave this lampstand's restraint, it will be fine. My arm will continuously suppress its activity and keep it stable."
"And most importantly—your world has no souls. Even if it wanted to make trouble, it has no fuel to exercise its destructive potential."
Herta's mouth curved into a very obvious, satisfied smile.
To her, the risks Eisen described were specific to the First Flame's original world rules. In a universe without souls, the danger was functionally negligible.
In her mind, the Authority of Life earned a neat label:
"Harmless, extremely valuable research sample."
It was practically a gift made for Ruan Mei.
An off-world sample of Life authority—fully suppressed, operating under a foreign rule system, yet able to exist stably in Star Rail's universe.
Herta could already picture what would happen when Ruan Mei received it—what kind of emotion would finally flicker in those calm eyes.
Eisen offered the lampstand to Herta.
Herta didn't take it. She only tilted her chin slightly.
From the laboratory corner, a Herta puppet—identical in face, smaller in build—trotted over and respectfully accepted the lampstand with the living flame.
Naturally, Herta's noble hands were not meant for menial carrying.
After that, Eisen lifted a hand, and the silver spherical device vanished—sent through the subgroup transfer to where the Fire Keeper waited.
With everything done, he nodded to Herta, preparing to leave.
"Farewell," Herta replied, impossibly concise.
Before the last syllable had fully settled, she and the puppet holding the life-flame lampstand disappeared from the lab without a trace.
Eisen stared at the empty spot and couldn't help a sincere thought:
"Clean and efficient."
That kind of decisive style was, in its own way, admirable.
He turned to Ling, who had been quiet beside him, and asked gently, "So? Want to hang around Kafka's universe a bit longer? The story here is pretty interesting."
He thought of the "protagonist" in Elio's script—Stelle.
Another girl bound to the weight of world-restarts.
Like Ling, she was a key that could break fate and end a loop.
Eisen felt that if Ling and Stelle met, the two might become very close friends.
But Ling shook her head softly.
Her expression was calm, carrying a steadiness that didn't match her age.
With subgroup transfer, time in her home world could be frozen—no matter how long she stayed here, returning would mean no time had passed there at all.
Yet Ling seemed to have her own insistence.
"No," she said quietly, looking out the lab window at the unfamiliar stars, as if seeing the world that still waited for her.
"I've already rested properly in my own world these past few days."
"If I keep playing around, my body really will start to rust. It's time to go back."
Her voice was light—but the resolve in it wasn't.
Eisen's eyes softened.
"Alright."
He respected her choice. That sense of responsibility for her own world was worth more than anything.
In the next instant, Eisen and Ling stood once more on the wooden floor of Suibian Temple, the faint scent of tea washing over them.
"Back?" Master Yixuan asked, setting down her teacup.
Eisen nodded. "Yes. We got the solution."
Without wasting time on pleasantries, Eisen and Ling quickly explained Herta's independent-energy plan to Wise and Yixuan in full detail.
The smile on Yixuan's face stiffened.
Only after several seconds did she exhale slowly.
"So… we're going to personally trigger a disaster on the scale of an Old Capital Collapse."
Old Capital Collapse.
To all of New Eridu, those words were a scar carved into the bone—touch it, and you risk tearing open a citywide PTSD.
After deciding to rewind time, Ling had also fantasized about making things better for her friends—fixing old regrets.
But after asking around, after sifting through memories, she realized something with growing dread:
Almost everyone's pain traced back to the same origin.
The Old Capital Collapse.
"Master…" Ling's voice dropped to a near whisper, eyes anxious as she studied Yixuan's face.
She feared the plan had struck the most fragile place in her teacher's heart.
But Yixuan's lapse lasted only a breath or two.
Her usual casual, easy smile returned—though beneath it lay a fatigue she couldn't fully hide.
"Don't underestimate your master," she said lightly, reaching out to ruffle Ling's hair.
"After the rewind, everything resets. Pain, regrets—gone like passing clouds. I'm only… feeling a little sentimental after hearing the plan."
Wise smoothly pulled the conversation away from the dangerous edge.
"I'm not questioning Ms. Herta's brilliance," he said, choosing his words carefully. "But I do have a technical concern."
"Why is she so confident that with infinite Ether energy, Fairy becomes unstoppable in the network?"
"Infinite power solves the energy bottleneck, but doesn't Fairy's processing capacity and throughput still depend on hardware? A more robust approach might be asking Ms. Herta to build a server cluster beyond this era—to raise Fairy's compute ceiling at the root."
Right then, Fairy's electronically textured female voice flowed from Ling's phone speaker.
"Assistant Two, please note: I am not a standard artificial intelligence. My limits are not determined by the computational power of the device I inhabit, but by whether sufficient energy supply is available."
Eisen nodded and added, "From my current observation, Fairy's existence is closer to a quantum-level informational lifeform."
"She isn't merely code running on silicon. She is a more fundamental aggregation of energy and information."
"For her, swapping devices is like us changing clothes. It can expand certain functions—like HDD—but it doesn't affect her core abilities."
"Providing stable, high-tier energy is the key to unlocking her upper limit."
Ling and Wise both looked shocked.
Ling raised her phone. On the screen, Fairy's eye icon blinked softly.
"So… that's how it is, Fairy?"
"Yes," Fairy answered evenly. "Eisen's summary is highly accurate."
"That is indeed my current existential form. However, please do not misunderstand: I do not possess independent wisdom or emotional modules as carbon-based or silicon-based life does."
"My behavioral logic remains based on core directives and algorithmic frameworks."
Wise, wearing the weary patience of someone humoring a child, nodded.
"Yes, yes, we understand, Fairy. You don't have independent intelligence."
In the end, it was Yixuan who clapped her hands once, yanking everyone back onto the rails.
"Alright! The urgent priority is building the device Ms. Herta described—the one that absorbs and stores Hollow energy."
She turned to Eisen, asking, "Do you need me to help gather materials? I still have some channels in New Eridu's underground."
Eisen shook his head gently.
"No need. I'll handle the materials."
He extended his hand, and a list appeared in his palm.
"Besides," he added, "you probably can't read this list."
Yixuan, Wise, and Ling leaned in.
All three froze.
There were no material names. No codes. No descriptions of shape, color, or physical properties.
Instead, the list was filled with subjective, almost bizarre sensory phrases:
river-smoothed pebbles wrapped in newborn sunlight; edges that pierce spatial folds; a cold breath that freezes the soul's depth; pulsing instability with flickering arcs; an anchor of gravity; floating dust that refuses to settle…
"This…" Wise stared, baffled. "Mr. Eisen, is this… some kind of encrypted code?"
Eisen explained calmly, "Herta wrote it based on my perception."
"In my sensory frame, the 'source information' of those materials presents as these specific tactile impressions. Herta knows I can accurately capture and locate them, so she used that as the identification basis."
He paused, then added a key point.
"And because Hollows erode your world's dimensional reality, the spatial layer suppresses me less here. That means I can perform direct cross-space transfers."
Before the last word fell, Eisen casually sliced his right hand through the air.
A faint but visible ripple of space appeared to his right.
At that exact same moment, deep inside a heavily guarded corporate core warehouse in New Eridu—
Between rows of towering alloy shelves, security footsteps echoed with regimented rhythm.
Suddenly, space collapsed beneath a rare mineral—protected by layers of safeguards—glowing with eerie blue light.
A vortex opened—identical in form to the one in Suibian Temple.
The priceless blue crystal core dipped and vanished without resistance.
Seconds later, the warehouse erupted in shrieking alarms.
Meanwhile, back in Suibian Temple, a basketball-sized blue crystal—radiating a sensation of cold sharpness—thudded onto the floor beside Eisen, its light flowing like liquid.
Yixuan stared, then muttered, "That's… convenient to the point of being unfair."
She watched Eisen—so effortless, so relaxed—and felt a wave of complicated emotion.
His power was absurdly strong. Strong enough to make problems look nonexistent.
That kind of strength naturally seduced people into dependence—into tossing every difficulty at him, letting him solve everything with a flick of his wrist, because that was the easiest path.
Yixuan's gaze drifted quietly to Ling.
The girl had crouched down, studying the blue crystal with open curiosity.
Yixuan's lips curved with quiet pride.
Ling was different.
Even with someone like Eisen at her side, she stayed stubbornly clear-headed—accepting only reasonable help, insisting on solving the rest with her own hands.
That discipline—the ability to resist the temptation of effortless dependence—was something any master would be proud of.
"Let's go," Eisen said, snapping Yixuan out of her thoughts.
"To the painted world. Herta said the mother unit will be enormous—there's more room there."
No one objected.
They stepped into the ink-wash mountain painting again.
They chose a flat riverside clearing—wide open, grass bright and soft.
Eisen stood at the center and closed his eyes.
His perception surged across spatial layers, locking onto the distinct sensations described on the list.
In the next moment, the painted world's quiet shattered.
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz…
Space rippled again and again, dense as a swarm of giant hornets.
Vortices opened and closed overhead—one after another—dumping materials like rain.
Strange ingots. Flowing liquid matter. Condensed energy crystals. Ancient wooden cores emitting unfamiliar fragrance…
They came from everywhere: corporate vaults under heavy guard, private collections buried beneath earth, the depths of abandoned mineral veins…
For convenience, Eisen didn't pile them into a single heap.
He controlled their fall, spreading them evenly across the clearing.
When the last piece—an iridescent soft metal—plopped into the grass, the group looked out and went still.
The "materials field" covered nearly a quarter of the painted world.
And this painted world was roughly the size of all New Eridu.
Eisen walked to the center, took out Herta's silver sphere, and pressed the activation button.
Click—KRRK!
A rapid cascade of mechanical transformation sounds snapped through the air.
The one-meter sphere unfolded. Six segmented mechanical legs shot out and braced into the ground.
In a blink, a sleek six-legged mechanical spider stood before them.
Its head lifted. A cold blue scanning beam lit, sweeping over the surrounding materials like a searchlight.
Scan complete, it didn't hesitate.
It sprinted straight for a pile of dull, dark special alloy.
The spider latched on. A high-speed grinding drill extended from its mouth and began to eat.
The alloy—hard enough to laugh at most tools—crumbled like biscuits and was swallowed.
As it fed, smaller appendages precisely grabbed Ether crystals and viscous catalytic fluids, inserting them into its intake as if following a recipe.
At the same time, the machine's rear assembly began to operate.
Standardized precision parts were manufactured and ejected.
Guided by force fields and micro-arms, the parts assembled in midair—clicking, welding, locking into place with dizzying speed—
Before the first spider had even finished feeding, a second identical six-legged spider had already been fully constructed beside it.
The newborn spider lifted its head, scanned, then immediately joined the feast and production.
Two became four.
Four became eight.
Eight became sixteen—
Self-replication escalated exponentially.
The clearing filled with silver spiders, spreading like a controlled mechanical plague.
Soon, once the number reached a threshold, functional specialization began.
Some grew larger, with thicker legs and powerful gripping claws—transport-specialized units.
They began hauling distant materials into the core work zone with terrifying efficiency.
Others sprouted drill-and-bucket attachments—terrain-modification units—flattening ground, excavating foundations, packing earth into perfect base structure.
Grass was peeled away cleanly, rock pulverized like tofu.
And then, the core of the core—
Manufacturing-specialized units.
They were the most numerous and complex, packed with machining arms and integrated fabrication modules.
They no longer ate raw materials. Instead, they received inputs from transport units, then performed cutting, casting, etching, engraving, assembling—
Directly producing larger structural segments and functional modules.
Everything moved with ruthless coordination.
No wasted motion. No collision. No redundancy.
In sharp contrast, a gentle green slope rose nearby.
Eisen, Ling, Wise, and Yixuan were… ridiculously relaxed.
A simple picnic cloth was spread out, with delicate pastries laid upon it.
Yixuan somehow produced a compact tea set and began brewing with calm, unhurried motions.
Tea fragrance mixed with grass scent, blending strangely well with the mechanical hum.
They sipped tea and watched the industrial spectacle as if enjoying a performance.
There was a raw, orderly beauty to it—pure mechanical aesthetics—that kept their eyes glued.
Under their gaze, the foundation expanded, and the outline of a colossal structure rose at a speed that felt illegal.
Steel frames like the ribs of an ancient beast stabbed toward the sky.
Heavy armor plating floated into place, locked, then fused with blinding weld light—cooling instantly into dark seams.
Inside, the structure was a maze. Thick energy conduits coiled like arteries.
Metal impacts roared. High-energy welding hissed. Force-field constraints thrummed.
A monstrous creation of steel and industry stood where open grass had been.
It wasn't a complex "machine" in appearance—if anything, it was brutally simple.
Cold. Minimal. Oppressive.
Like a coffin made of steel.
Over a hundred meters long, tens of meters high, it lay across the earth in silent dominance.
This was Herta's "mother unit."
As it completed, the mechanical spiders—like ants that had fulfilled their final purpose—went still, motionless like powered-down toys.
Only a handful of maintenance units continued making final checks and connecting external lines.
For the next hour, the world grew quiet.
The mother unit breathed with a low, rhythmic hum from within—full-power operation, like a beast asleep but alive.
No one spoke.
The pastries were mostly gone.
Yixuan calmly wiped down her tea set.
Ling leaned against Wise's shoulder, drowsy. Wise stared at the mother unit, eyes thoughtful behind his lenses.
An hour passed in tea-scented silence.
Then, at the lower side of the steel coffin, a new sound emerged.
A soft depressurization hiss.
A heavy panel retracted inward, slid aside, revealing a channel lit by gentle blue light.
A platform glided out.
Resting atop it was the device designed to absorb and store the Ether of an entire Hollow.
It was a sharp-edged tetrahedron, about the size of a basketball.
Its surface looked like flawless black crystal.
Inside, it was utterly dark.
Wise stared, openly astonished.
"A thing that can swallow all the Ether inside a Hollow… I expected something enormous."
"Right?!" Ling pointed at the massive mother unit, half laughing.
"Seeing that thing built, I thought the final device would be… like, half a stadium. And it's just—this?"
Yixuan didn't speak, but her small nod showed she'd thought the same.
Eisen's eyes drifted to a line of text near the mother unit's output port—simple operational instructions.
He scanned quickly:
Enter the Hollow, press the button, start the timer. Because the Hollow will absorb everything inside during annihilation, leave in advance. (This does not apply to you.)
"Good," Eisen said, satisfied. "Idiot-proof. I like simple, brutal, effective designs. Less thinking, more results."
With the most critical device complete, Eisen's expression turned serious.
He looked at Ling, Wise, and Yixuan.
"Everything's ready. Should we begin the time rewind? There shouldn't be anything missing now."
At that moment, hesitation flickered across Ling's face.
She stalled briefly before speaking, uncertainty in her voice.
"I… actually have an idea. Should we bring a Void Hunter weapon back to the past?"
She looked at Eisen, seeking his judgment.
"I mean the one Miyabi's using—Wuwei."
"If she could control two Wuwei at the same time, wouldn't she become much stronger? Would our chances against the Origin improve?"
The moment Ling finished, Yixuan's brows tightened hard.
Her expression carried clear worry—clear refusal.
"No."
"Miyabi is exceptionally gifted and powerful, yes. But even with the Void Hunter weapon she already holds, she hasn't truly mastered it."
"The power inside it is too violent. Adding another won't help—at best it becomes a crushing burden, at worst an unpredictable backlash. The consequences could be catastrophic."
Yixuan's tone sharpened as she laid out the risks, one by one.
"And Eisen already said it: a Void Hunter weapon contains a fragment of the Origin's own authority."
"If we carry another Wuwei back into the past and it falls into the Origin's hands, we're handing it power—making it stronger, harder to fight."
Her voice grew heavier.
"And more than that: if the past suddenly contains an extra Void Hunter weapon—an extra piece of the Origin's authority that shouldn't exist—then the Origin may immediately deduce that time has been rewound."
"That alone could expose us. We cannot take that risk."
Her reasoning was precise, each point stabbing cleanly into the heart of the issue.
Ling bit her lip, instantly aware of how reckless her suggestion had been.
Eisen listened quietly, then nodded.
"Master Yixuan's concerns are valid. This action does carry significant risk."
Then he pivoted.
"However, risk and benefit always come as a pair. If Miyabi—or you, Ling—can one day truly convert the authority contained in a Void Hunter weapon into your own power, it would indeed be a major asset against the Origin."
He brought it back to the present reality.
"But right now, when none of us can fully suppress that authority, allowing two Wuwei to exist in the past timeline at once… as Master Yixuan said, the risk outweighs the reward."
"It could expose us—or become nourishment for the enemy."
Ling lowered her head, fingers twisting at her sleeve.
"I understand… I didn't think it through…"
"But," Eisen continued, "this doesn't mean we can't ever make use of a Void Hunter weapon. Risk is relative. The key is how we handle it."
He looked around and offered a solution.
"Your main concern is that the weapon appearing in the past creates a chain reaction."
"So we simply don't let it appear in this world's past timeline at all."
Everyone froze for a beat.
"This time, we can send the Wuwei Miyabi currently holds to my world as well," Eisen explained.
"Once it enters my world, the difference in rules will force it into complete dormancy."
"It can lie there quietly."
"When you believe you're strong enough to attempt controlling that authority, you can retrieve it from me."
"That way we avoid the enormous risk of carrying it through the rewind—while preserving it as a future reserve of power."
"How does that sound?"
The group exchanged glances.
The tension that had tightened the air loosened instantly.
Yixuan's brows eased. She nodded.
"That is sound."
Wise nodded too.
"Stable. It avoids the immediate danger but keeps the future option."
Ling's eyes lit up. She nodded vigorously.
"Yes! That's perfect!"
With the decision made, Ling immediately messaged Miyabi through the Zenless Zone Zero subgroup, clearly explaining the discussion and the final plan.
Not long after, a figure appeared silently on the grassy slope.
It was Hoshimi Miyabi.
She wore Section 6's combat uniform. Her face was expressionless—but not cold. If anything, it gave her a faintly blank, almost endearing air.
Her eyes swept the scene.
The picturesque mountains and waters. The steel mother unit. The silent fields of mechanical spiders.
She showed no curiosity, no awe—as if these wonders were no more unusual than roadside stones.
Then her gaze locked onto Eisen.
Miyabi stepped forward, clean and decisive.
Her voice was cool.
"You are Eisen—the one who intends to rewind this world."
As she spoke, she bowed slightly.
When she raised her head, her eyes burned with pure, blazing battle intent.
Her fingers—slender, but carrying frightening strength—rested lightly on the hilt at her waist.
A sharp, invisible edge spread through the air.
"I am Hoshimi Miyabi."
Then, without hesitation, she said:
"I would like to spar with you."
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 150)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter190)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter105)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter222)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 190
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 170
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass Volume2/5
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 215
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 200
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 154
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player Volume4/30
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 115
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 67
Uma Musume: From Beginner 130
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
Uma Musume: I Want All 105
I Can Copy Unique Skills 100
Summoning an Evil God, but the 70
Supernatural Multiverse 90
My Harem Is Indescribable 85
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 90
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 68
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 81
Still playing traditional Honk 69
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 65
What Should I Do After Switchi - Volume2/3
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 60
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 55
Transmigrated as Sukuna 61
Checking In in Demon Slayer 65
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 80
I Refuse to Become a Heroic 66
My Best Friend Into a Slime? 58
A Saiyan Stands Above Marvel 65
What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 63
Tanya Starts from Re:Zero 59
Why did they assign me to Uma 55
MYGO Beauties 56
DanMachi: Emiya the Giant Hero 45
The Gacha Merchant Who Started 49
Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 36
Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 15
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