After leaving the clothing shop, Levitel held her wrapped new clothes tightly in her arms, her fingers rubbing restlessly against the cloth. Her red eyes sparkled, and she could not help but quicken her steps, her whole being brimming with eagerness. Seeing her like this, Shi Jin glanced toward the small inn they had just left, then turned and said calmly:
"Let's get a bigger room."
As they turned down the snow-covered alley toward the new inn, Levitel still clutched her package closely, her fingers brushing the fabric again and again. She tried to hold back her excitement but could not stop light, skipping steps, her joy plain to see. From the corner of his eye, Shi Jin watched her, not slowing his pace. His voice, softened by the falling snow, warned gently:
"Life with me will not be easy."
Levitel froze mid-step. She looked up at him, the brightness in her red eyes dimming slightly, yet a stubborn resolve shining through. Quiet but clear, she answered:
"My life has always been lived on the edge of a blade."
With that, she hugged her package even tighter and hurried after him in small, quick steps. Her voice faded almost on the wind, but it rang sincere.
When they reached the new inn, they pushed open the door to a bright, clean room. The snow and wind were shut out, and warmth from the heater spread throughout the space. Levitel rushed straight into the inner room with her clothes. After some rustling sounds of changing, she poked her head out shyly.
She wore a thick cotton-padded jacket of ginger and cream white, with soft fleece lining at the collar. Matching trousers made her look small and delicate, and on her head sat a knit hat with rabbit-fur trim. Strands of hair stuck lightly to her slightly flushed cheeks. Seeing Shi Jin looking at her, she twisted the hem of her jacket timidly, her eyes bright as stars, and asked in a small voice:
"D-Do I look nice like this?"
Shi Jin lifted his gaze, casually brushing snowflakes off the chair. His tone was cool but held a faint approval:
"Mm. It fits you. Looks warm."
Those few simple words made Levitel's face light up with joy. Her red eyes shone like they held starlight. Unable to contain her happiness any longer, she hopped lightly on the spot twice. The rabbit-fur trim of her hat bounced with her movements, and even her little dragon horns curved in delight. The glow of the heater fell over her, filling the room with soft warmth.
Before the warmth could fade, Shi Jin's expression suddenly turned solemn. His fingers stilled on the edge of the table, and his tone dropped, cold and frank:
"Following me, you could die at any moment. Do you still intend to stay?"
Levitel stopped hopping mid-air. Her grip on her jacket tightened, the joy in her red eyes vanishing, replaced by a resolve he had never seen before. She looked up at him, her voice soft but unwavering:
"No one has ever been good to me before. Now that you are… even if it's for you, even if I might die, I want to stay."
Those words sank into his ears, and Shi Jin's eyes darkened. His fingers curled unconsciously. The image of the Dragon Lord surged into his mind unbidden—unfinished words, unfulfilled wishes, swirling chaotically inside his head. He stared at the faint glow reflected from the heater by the table's corner and let out a low, hoarse sigh, almost to himself:
"This was meant to be a solitary journey. I never thought I would be… fulfilling someone else's regrets."
Before the warmth fully dispersed, the domain of the Green Branch Floating Dream Wielder unfolded abruptly. Pale green light, wrapped in faint magic, spread throughout the room and silently enclosed Shi Jin. He did not flinch, not even furrowing his brow, letting the gentle power sweep him away into an illusion.
Before him lay an endless green meadow, wind rippling the grass into soft waves. At the center stood a wooden table, with a plain sunshade beside it and two bamboo stools on either side. The Green Branch Floating Dream Wielder already sat calmly on one side, a celadon teapot at hand. As Shi Jin landed, he lifted the pot and poured clear, cold tea into two white porcelain cups. His movements were gentle, his gaze calm:
"Sit."
Shi Jin looked down, pulled the pendant from within his collar and squeezed it in his palm. His fingers traced its pattern, and after a moment's focus, sensing the time was not right, he stepped toward the table and sat wordlessly. His robes brushed the lush grass, stirring a faint breeze.
Osidana across from him did not stop pouring tea. The celadon spout released clear liquid, rippling lightly in the white cup. The fragrance of tea mixed with the grassland wind and spread outward. He looked up at Shi Jin, his eyes holding the serene light unique to elves, and introduced himself slowly:
"I am Osidana."
With that, he pushed the poured tea toward Shi Jin. The porcelain cup tapped lightly against the wood, the sound fading into the wind. Osidana rested his fingers lightly on the cup's edge, his gaze falling on the steam rising from the tea. He spoke calmly, yet with the weight of years:
"You must have realized. I am the Wielder of the Green Branch Floating Dream. An elf of just over two hundred years."
Steam curled gently into the wind. Osidana's fingers brushed the cup's rim, his gaze drifting to the rolling grass in the distance. His voice was soft, as if melting into the illusion:
"Using the Green Branch Floating Dream's power of foresight, I have already seen the end—a few days from now, I will fall by your hand, wounded by you." He lifted his eyes to Shi Jin, no trace of fear in them, only the calm of two hundred years of life.
"I brought you into this illusion not to run. I know escape is impossible; I cannot avoid being captured by you. But there are questions weighing on my heart. I must ask them face to face. If I do not, they will become an obsession. As long as I can ask these questions, even if I meet that end tomorrow, I will have no regrets."
The tea smoke slowly drifted around his fingers. Osidana looked up at Shi Jin, his eyes holding the quiet composure forged by two hundred years:
"The one thing I cannot understand is… why do you hunt the Artifact Wielders?"
Shi Jin glanced at the swaying tea in the cup, his fingers still gripping the pendant's cord around his neck. His voice was flat, without emotion:
"To become stronger."
Osidana frowned, his confusion deepening. He tapped the table lightly:
"Even so, you need not insist on hunting Artifact Wielders." He paused, his gaze sweeping over Shi Jin's figure, as if seeing through the illusion to the dark, condensed hostility within him. His voice lowered:
"Through the Green Branch Floating Dream, I have sensed your aura. The lives on your hands already number in the tens of thousands… perhaps even close to a hundred thousand."
Shi Jin lifted his eyes. His fingers released the pendant and rested on the table. A cold, sharp smile tugged at his lips:
"Tell me—can I hurt you inside your own illusion?"
Osidana's brow lifted slightly, certainty in his eyes:
"You cannot. Even if you could wound me here, once the illusion breaks, my true self is not in this space. You would never be able to touch me."
Before the words landed, Shi Jin's smile vanished instantly. Violent magic erupted from his body, shattering the gentle breeze of the illusion. He slashed a hand violently through the empty air, shouting so loud it shook the meadow:
"Dry Stone Great Blade!"
Dark magic tore through the green sky of the illusion like ripped fabric. A black blade phantom, condensed with biting hostility, materialized from the void and crashed heavily downward. Between heaven and earth, the grass rolled, and a hideous crack spread wildly from his palm. Shattering light fell in showers. Even the curling tea smoke on the table was violently scattered by that overwhelming power.
Osidana's gaze fell on the Dry Stone Great Blade's phantom, brimming with murderous aura. His fingers stilled slightly on the table, the last trace of certainty fading from his eyes. Yet his face remained calm, weathered by years:
"It seems… there truly is no escape."
He shifted his gaze from the blade back to Shi Jin, curiosity pure and elven in his tone:
"Through the Green Branch Floating Dream, I saw someone by your side. You have always been a loner… why do you let someone follow you?"
Shi Jin's fingers traced the edge of the teacup. He looked up, his voice cold and sharp:
"Is this what you wished to ask?"
Osidana shook his head gently. His fingers brushed the empty cup where smoke had faded, smiling faintly:
"No. I am merely curious."
Shi Jin's grip on the cup tightened sharply, his knuckles whitening. The condensation on the cup's surface squeezed into a wet stain under his force. Head lowered, his voice rough as sandpaper, he spoke each word with weight:
"When I was five thousand years old, I met a dragon kin—red hair, red eyes, with dragon horns. He asked me to fulfill his last wish." He paused, his throat moving, a self-mocking chuckle escaping him.
"Having lived for ten thousand years… I never thought I would end up fulfilling someone else's regrets."
Osidana finally lifted his fingers from the cup. His gaze returned to the sinister Dry Stone Great Blade, the shadow of the weapon falling in thin lines on his pale hand. His tone regained the calm of an Artifact Wielder:
"Before you kill me… do you not still have to understand the life of another Artifact Wielder?"
Shi Jin relaxed his white-knuckled grip. The wetness on the cup left a cool mark on his palm. He stared at the gray mist rolling beyond the illusion's crack, his voice holding a faint, unnoticeable depression:
"Yes. But that person is far. I do not know if we will make it in time."
Osidana's lips curved into a faint smile. His eyes reflected the cold glint of the Dry Stone Great Blade, like shards of ice falling into a deep pool. His tone was certain:
"Rest assured. There is time."
Shi Jin frowned slightly, looking up at him. Illusion light flickered in his pupils:
"How do you know?"
Osidana tapped the table gently. The wood let out a low sound. His voice was steady, a undeniable premonition:
"Before long, that Artifact Wielder will lead an army to attack this mixed-blood city-state."
Shi Jin's grip on the cup tightened. His thumb brushed the cold ear of the cup, surprise flashing in his eyes:
"You can foresee even that? Which Artifact is it?"
Osidana's fingers paused mid-air. His gaze drifted to the swaying light and shadow in the illusion, as if across a thousand years of time. He whispered two words softly:
"Red Sand."
Shi Jin's pupils constricted. His knuckles whitened again around the cup. Condensation squeezed from between his fingers, forming small droplets on the table. Urgency sharpened his voice:
"You mean that long-handled weapon… the one that looks like an oar? The Red Sand?"
Osidana nodded gently. His fingers returned to the table, a faint layer of white frost forming where they touched:
"Yes."
Shi Jin fell silent for a moment. He lifted the cup from the frost, the base scraping lightly against the wood. He spoke quietly:
"Thank you for telling me this."
He then set the cup down heavily. A few drops of tea splashed onto the frost on the table, instantly freezing into tiny ice crystals. He looked up at Osidana, his voice cold as forged steel:
"Have you finished asking your questions?"
The white frost on Osidana's fingers thickened. He shook his head slowly, his gaze falling on Shi Jin's hand gripping the hilt. His tone was calm, yet carried a faint, noticeable weight:
"Not yet. Only one question remains."
He paused. The light and shadow in the illusion shook violently. The murderous aura of the Dry Stone Great Blade almost burst free. Only then did he ask, word by heavy word:
"You have killed so many Artifact Wielders… yet now you seek to fulfill a dragon kin's regrets. What is this so-called 'understanding life' truly for? To complete a last wish… or have you… yourself begun to care?"
Shi Jin's hand closed around the hilt of the Dry Stone Great Blade. The blade's murderous aura seeped into his veins along his palm, yet could not suppress the flash of confusion in his eyes. He had lived for ten thousand years, witnessed stars be born and die, seas turn to fields—yet for the first time, he was pinned in place by a single question. The gray mist of the illusion crashed into him, carrying the noise of the city-state. But he heard nothing, only shaking his head slowly, his voice colder than the dry stone:
"After living this long… I can no longer tell the difference between a last wish and a true concern. I cannot answer that."
Shi Jin ripped the Dry Stone Great Blade free in one violent motion. The blade reflected a cold, sharp arc in the illusion's light. He twisted his wrist, the tip pointed steadily at Osidana's throat. Rage in his voice almost solidified:
"Have you finished asking your questions?"
Far from flinching from the blade at his throat, Osidana raised a hand to press against the Green Branch Floating Dream on his chest. Pale blue magic spilled from between his fingers. The illusion twisted violently, the previously suppressed gray mist staining into a sinister blue-purple. A strange smile pulled at his lips. His voice came through the distorted air, trembling with magic:
"The questions are done. But now… it is my turn to gamble."
As the last word landed, the blue-purple magic around Osidana erupted. The illusion shattered like glass, the gray mist and light dissolving instantly. Shi Jin's hand holding the Dry Stone Great Blade froze in mid-air, the tip still positioned where Osidana's throat had been. He stared at the empty space before him, brows knitted tightly, confusion filling his voice:
"What gamble?"
The instant the illusion shattered, the void beneath Shi Jin's feet turned back into the wooden floor of the inn room. The heater's firelight flickered on the blade's surface, barely softening its biting chill. He snapped back to his senses. Looking at the small figure crouching by the heater, his fingers slowly loosened around the hilt. The black blade gradually dissolved into fine black specks, drifting away like melted light. Only when the last wisp of murderous aura vanished into the air did he step toward her.
Levitel crouched there, her face buried in her knees, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. She held the neatly folded new clothes tightly to her chest. The fabric was damp with tears, even her rabbit-fur hat soaked through in spots. The little dragon horns on top of her head hung limp, a single unshed tear hanging from the tip.
Shi Jin knelt before her, raising a hand to rest gently on the brim of her hat. His thumb brushed the fur damp with tears. His voice had softened, even to his own surprise:
"Why are you crying?"