Liam flicked his fingers lightly, and the illusion playing across the pond's surface scattered into ripples, fading away without a trace.
His tone remained casual, as though they were discussing the weather. "The Rift Lurkers… no one really knows where they came from."
"But like the warped demons, they've always longed to breach into our world."
He let a pause hang in the air before adding, with a quiet emphasis, "And their favorite food… is us."
Ilya's breath hitched. She slowly rose to her feet, her hands coming together over her chest.
Then, with a lowered head, she bowed earnestly. "Thank you… for telling me about something so terrifying. I had no idea."
"It's fine." Liam's voice was steady, almost indifferent. "The Rift Lurkers are just… what's left after humans get devoured and twisted. A mass of them mashed together into something else entirely."
"And what stood between them and this world... is me."
Liam paused, his eyes flickering, cooking up a lore, "There are many like me, existing to ward off these creatures from entering our world."
He stood still, gaze fixed somewhere distant. "As for why they're after the card, it's simple. The card has a function they want. It gives them an easier way into this world, lets them travel between realms without resistance."
"Then shouldn't we take it from Lucien?" Ilya cut in, her tone urgent. "They chased us like bloodhounds. That means they must have a way to track it."
"There's no need," Liam replied, giving her a sidelong glance before looking away again. "He'll come to me eventually."
"…So you'll take the card from him when he does?"
"No." He shook his head, as though the idea was hardly worth considering. "If he's still alive, that means he's already been bonded to the card. It must've saved him once already. And if I try to kill him, the card won't fall into my hands that easily."
Ilya blinked. "You mean?"
"It'll vanish. All that effort wasted. Not worth the trouble," Liam finished simply.
She nodded right away, fully convinced by the calm certainty in his voice.
Just as she was about to excuse herself, Liam raised a hand slightly. "Keep an eye out for any eggs, ones that carry rare bloodlines. If you spot any, just buy them. Don't worry about the cost."
"I understand." Ilya gave a small bow. "I'll make sure to pay close attention to that."
Before she could leave, Liam made a small gesture.
Two more puppets emerged from the shadows, silent as mist. They positioned themselves near Ilya. At once, she looked flustered.
"I don't need—"
"They'll follow you anyway," Liam cut in, not budging on the matter.
Left with no choice, Ilya gave a soft sigh, her protest melting into helpless acceptance.
A faint warmth stirred in her chest despite herself.
She bit her lower lip and quickly turned away, stepping out of the house with hurried steps, hoping Liam didn't see the faint blush rising across her cheeks.
She didn't look back.
Whatever sadness had clung to her earlier now seemed far behind, like it had never even happened.
Over the following days, life began to return to its usual rhythm.
Ilya settled back into her shop and handled everything, following Liam's instructions without fail.
The chamber of commerce, once unnamed and modest, now possessed a new title, Purple Cloud Pavilion.
Liam had casually come up with the name, yet it somehow felt fitting, even elegant.
Under that banner, the Pavilion had carved out a new identity in the city.
It became known for its second-grade materials, dependable second-grade puppets, and, perhaps most impressively, its role as the largest supplier of fiery blade grass in the surrounding areas.
The ability to mass-produce both first-grade and second-grade puppets was enough to make the Pavilion's reputation skyrocket in a matter of weeks.
Their earnings during that short period had already surpassed the total profits from the past few years combined.
Ilya was overjoyed, though beneath that joy, there lingered a cautious worry.
It was all moving so fast. Too fast, maybe.
But even so, she couldn't help feeling proud.
After seeing the two guards trailing behind her, she felt a bit more confident. These two were foundation Building experts after all, she steadied herself.
That brief flash of uncertainty in her heart faded.
With this kind of power at her back, there was no reason to second-guess her goals.
She could already picture her shop rising further, gaining ground, carving out a stronger presence in the region.
Maybe...
Just maybe, she can find a new glory under her own name.
Inside the newly expanded room of the building, Ilya let out a quiet breath.
She reached for the cup of tea resting on the low table, took a sip, and slowly leaned back into the soft cushions of the couch.
"So much change in such a short time," she murmured.
She let the warmth of the tea linger at the edge of her tongue before swallowing, her gaze resting distantly on the window pane. "And none of this would've happened without him," she added, her lips curving into a faint, knowing smile.
The door opened with a quiet chime.
She didn't look up.
The two guards standing in silence at the corners of the room didn't move either. Their very presence was enough. It was confidence made visible.
A familiar figure stepped in.
His movements were calm. Without waiting for an invitation, he seated himself across from her, lowering onto the opposite couch.
"Miss Ilya…"
"Sir Lucien…"
The two exchanged brief nods.
The event had been wild. And yet here they were, facing each other as if it had been nothing more than a business delay.
Ilya raised her teacup again, letting the steam brush against her face before speaking.
"First, I would like to congratulate Sir Lucien for surviving." Her fingers wrapped gently around the cup as she took another sip. "A miracle is hard to come by… but it seems you've managed to grasp one firmly."
Lucien's eyes flickered faintly.
He adjusted the hem of his robe, smoothing it as he straightened his back, then spoke evenly.
"I see… thank you." He gave a slight nod, then gestured with his hand. "I have a commission for you, if that wouldn't be a problem, that is."
"That depends on the type of commission." Ilya set the teacup down with a soft clink on the porcelain plate, then adjusted her posture, right leg crossing over the left.
Her hands rested gently over her thighs.
Her tone didn't shift. "What sort of commission are we talking about?"
Lucien didn't hesitate. "Finding someone who knows about the Moon Gazer Card."
His voice was calm, but his eyes turned sharp, studying her face. Every shift, every twitch, every pause, he was watching for it.
But Ilya didn't flinch.
Liam had already briefed her. She was ready.
Instead of answering immediately, she lifted her hand and gestured to one side.
One of the guards stepped forward.
From within its cloak, it retrieved a small, circular token, simple in shape, but subtly engraved, and handed it to her without a word.
Ilya accepted it with her right hand, brought it up between them, and examined it for a brief moment. Her fingers turned the token lightly before her gaze drifted back toward Lucien.
"The cultivation world is a strange place," she began, voice level. "Full of things you're better off not understanding too early."
She held the token for another second, then placed it quietly down on her side of the table. The faint tap of it settling on the glass was the only sound in the room.
Then, with a slight push from her finger, she slid the token across the smooth surface. It glided over the table, making a soft scraping noise as it moved toward him.
"And the higher you try to climb," she continued, "the more you'll realize just how insignificant you really are, compared to how vast the world truly is."
Lucien's brow creased.
'Riddles?' he thought, but said nothing.
His gaze dropped to the token. He reached for it, fingers brushing its cool surface, and brought it closer to examine.
"This is…?"