Diala’s hands tightened around Kiaria’s.
Kiaria felt it imdiately. He did not pull away or speak; instead, he placed his other hand over her gripping palm, covering it fully, easing the tension without breaking it. Only after that quiet reassurance did he lift his gaze toward the others, his expression already settled.
"Everyone," Kiaria said calmly, "leave this domain."
His voice carried no force–yet it allowed no refusal.
"What remains are secrets between and Shade," he continued. "Sister Lainsa, go with them. And prepare yourself."
No one questioned him.
Azriel, Aizrel, Ru and Yi, Mu Long, and Princess Lainsa moved toward the boundary of the Ghost Prison domain, their steps asured, restrained. One by one, their presences withdrew, until the space felt thinner, quieter, as if the domain itself had begun closing around what remained.
Princess Lainsa slowed just before stepping out.
She turned back once.
Kiaria watched her, confird her presence, then gave a faint nod. Only then did she cross the boundary and vanish.
When the last trace of the others disappeared, Kiaria snapped his fingers.
Crimson lines ignited beneath him and Diala, folding inward, forming a dense red halo of formation. Space compressed without sound, and the world inverted in a single breath.
They disappeared.
–
Diala opened her eyes.
The air tasted of iron and old blood. They stood within the Blood Moon Void, where volcanoes belched deep red magma into a sky that did not move, and rivers of blood ran thick and warm across fractured land. Vast plates of terrain drifted slowly upon scarlet blood-lava seas, as if the domain itself breathed beneath them.
Above it all hung the Blood Moon.
Massive and unmoving. Heavy. Patient.
Its presence pressed down steadily–not violently, but with a slow insistence that gnawed at bone and will alike.
Yet Diala stood freely.
As at ease as Kiaria.
Invisible red, silky threads stirred faintly around her, brushing past her presence and settling as if in recognition. The Blood Moon Void did not suppress her, did not test her, did not apply pressure–as though sothing ancient within it had already acknowledged her place.
Kiaria felt it.
Their divine forms dissolved quietly. Authority receded. Power folded inward, leaving behind a boy from the Enlightennt Sect and a small girl who depended entirely on him.
"Kia..."
Diala’s voice trembled.
"Can’t we find another way? There has to be another way..."
Tears followed freely.
"Please," she cried softly. "Please don’t go there."
Kiaria cupped her face, his palms warm against her cold cheeks.
"Dia," he said gently, "look at ."
He wiped her tears away slowly, then took both her hands and held them firmly, face to face, grounding her shaking presence with his own.
"Don’t worry," Kiaria said. "Nothing will happen to ."
He did not hesitate.
"Heart Demon will protect . And the mysterious one in my sea of consciousness will not allow my death."
He leaned closer.
"You saw it yourself," he continued. "How easily Heart Demon defeated the Yaksha Queen. She was a transford Beast God–yet she was unmatched. If even she couldn’t threaten , then this ti..."
He paused.
"My life won’t be at stake."
"But it’s too dangerous," Diala said, her voice breaking."Did you forget what my Ancestor said?"
She clutched his robe tightly.
"Don’t go," she pleaded. "Or let co with you. I don’t want you to struggle alone."
Her words spilled without restraint.
"Whatever danger waits, let us face it together. Life or death–together. Please..."
Kiaria pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.
"Dia," he said quietly, "your cultivation hasn’t reached the Immortal Realm."
"You cannot enter."
He did not soften the truth.
"And we only have three... maybe four hours at most. I have to find it. I have to awaken her within that ti."
He loosened the embrace just enough to look at her.
"I understand your feelings," Kiaria said. "And my heart aches because of your worry."
Then his voice steadied.
"But this isn’t only about the tribes inside this fortress. If the fortress is completely destroyed, the protection barrier will fall with it."
He did not na the rest.
He didn’t need to.
"The mainland," he continued. "People like Hylisi. Families. Children."
"All those peaceful lives will lose their safety."
He held her close again.
"If we don’t take this risk now–if we choose another path–they will suffer."
His voice lowered.
"And then... can we sleep peacefully?"
He looked at her.
"Would I still be worthy to stand as the Patron?"
Diala trembled in his arms.
"Dia," Kiaria said, "I promise."
"I will return here and et you within three hours."
"Wait for ."
"Kia..."
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"I–I will wait for you here."
He nodded once.
"Then let’s activate the box," Kiaria said.
He t her eyes.
"You rember how to open it, right?"
"I do rember," Dia replied.
"Then," Kiaria said calmly, "let’s begin unsealing those formations."
Diala reached into her void ring and took the box out.
It rested quietly in her palm–small, irregular, composed of countless wooden shards fitted together in rectangular fragnts that refused symtry. Though compact enough to be held in one hand, it carried the latent presence of sothing far larger, sothing that did not asure itself by size.
She did not look at Kiaria.
She brought her fingertip to the center.
And pressed.
A sigil blood across the surface of the box, spreading instantly like frost across ancient wood. The structure responded; shards separated and drifted outward in asured order as the familiar formations resurfaced.
Sixteen-block arrays appeared.
Diala waited only for the first to complete–then pressed the third block.
The formation expanded imdiately, its pieces elongating and shifting as space folded inward, leaving behind a deliberate hollow. A second sixteen-block formation followed the sa sequence, loosening, unwinding, and sliding into the gap already prepared.
Sixteen fused into thirty-two.
The next sets followed without pause. When the third and fourth formations stabilized, Diala changed her touch–pressing the fourth block instead. Expansion followed. Convergence followed.
Two thirty-two-block formations erged.
They did not remain separate.
One expanded, opening subtle irregularities along its structure, and the other settled into them precisely, completing a larger design.
Sixty-four.
The pattern continued, no longer demanding her focus. Each new series of formations responded to its junction point–thirty-two folding into sixty-four, sixty-four anchoring into one hundred twenty-eight. With scale, the imperfections along the edges grew clearer, no longer flaws but intentional anchors.
When two one hundred twenty-eight-block formations completed, Diala pressed again.
They expanded.
They rged.
Two hundred fifty-six shards stabilized into a rotating structure, drifting behind the active arrays like a silent wheel.
She pressed the seventh piece.
Another two hundred fifty-six-block formation ford, shadowing the first. The two aligned, slid together, and locked.
Five hundred twelve.
The larger structures now rotated continuously behind the remaining formations, waiting. When the final repetition completed, Diala pressed the eighth piece.
Two five hundred twelve-block formations interlocked.
One thousand twenty-four shards bound together as a single living structure.
This ti, the motion stopped.
Diala pressed the ninth block.
There was no expansion.
The formation activated.
The massive array shuddered, then began to deform. Flat planes curved inward as the wooden shards slid past one another, reshaping into an enclosing sheath. Space folded smoothly as the structure isolated the area around Kiaria and Diala, cutting off the pressure of the Blood Moon Void beyond it.
She pressed the tenth block.
All remaining formations unraveled.
Unused arrays dissolved, their pieces drifting inward, resizing and reshaping with deliberate precision. When the movent ceased, five hundred seventy-six shards remained, assembling themselves into a seamless wooden cube in Diala’s palm.
No gaps.
No irregularities.
Each face aligned perfectly, every segnt fitted so precisely that the seams vanished entirely. The surface felt smooth beneath her fingers, as if it had never been anything else.
From the top face, wooden segnts slid outward toward the edges.
The surface loosened.
Without force, it unfolded.
The box opened.
At its center, suspended in stillness–
A blue-white snowflake.
It did not lt.It did not waver.
Its presence cooled the air, sharp and absolute, as if winter itself had been preserved inside a single breath.
Diala did not reach for it.
She only looked.
The Winter Soul had revealed itself.
Kiaria reached out.
The mont his fingers brushed the blue-white snowflake, it acknowledged him.
The snowflake lifted gently, rising without resistance, as if it had been waiting for that single touch. At the sa ti, the wooden domain surrounding them trembled, then shattered–its structure collapsing not violently, but with deliberate precision.
One by one, the one thousand twenty-four wooden shards dismantled.
They did not fall.
They circled.
Each shard traced a path around the rising snowflake, revolving in steady succession. One completed a full rotation, then the next, until all one thousand twenty-four had circled it once, their movent continuous and unbroken.
Only then did the Blood Moon Void remain.
The wooden shards continued circling, but their alignnt no longer followed a fixed pattern. Instead, they shifted with each heartbeat–Kiaria’s and Diala’s–responding to the rhythm carried through the red thread bound to their hearts.
The snowflake stopped rising.
The circling shards trembled, then expanded and shrank in uneven asure before falling.
Where they landed, the Blood Moon Void froze.
Volcanic peaks solidified beneath the impact of the falling shards, their molten throats sealed by frost. Blood rivers slowed, stiffened, and turned crystalline. Snow began to fall–soft, steady, unending.
The one thousand twenty-four shards aligned themselves.
A wooden mountain rose above a frozen volcanic peak, layered upon it like an offering placed atop a sacrifice. Between them stretched countless wooden steps, ascending toward the narrow vertical divide.
From a distance, it looked as if a mountain had been split cleanly down the middle, the halves standing apart just enough to allow a single person through.
Kiaria looked up.
So did Diala.
The blue-white snowflake drifted downward, light as a feather, toward the split. The mont it hovered between the two halves, the seamless wooden box–the last of the formations–shuddered behind them.
It dismantled.
Five hundred seventy-six shards tore free and flew toward the snowflake. Mid-flight, they reshaped, dividing and reassembling until four wooden phoenixes ford.
Two hovered above the split–one over each half of the mountain.
Two hovered below.
They opened their wooden beaks.
From the left, fiery crimson flas poured forth.
From the right, blue frost flas answered.
The snowflake did not resist.
It lted.
The phoenixes caught the molten essence from all four directions, expanding it outward until the liquid filled the entire space between the split. The mont the flow stabilized, it transford–becoming a blue, flowing water portal.
As the portal completed, frost surged outward.
The wooden mountain crystallized, turning into a frost mountain covered in snow. The Blood Moon Void followed, freezing completely as snowfall thickened, burying blood and fire alike beneath white silence.
The transformation ended.
Two of the wooden phoenixes ignited with azure frost and shed their wooden forms, becoming real Azure Frost Fla Phoenixes. They settled at either side of the entrance, wings folded, eyes watchful.
The remaining two fiery wooden phoenixes flew back.
They dissolved into light.
And beca wooden fiery wristbands around Kiaria and Diala’s wrists.
For a few monts, neither of them spoke.
They simply watched.
Then the wristbands pulsed once, warmth and reminder flowing through them.
The bloodline awakening.
Kiaria turned.
He looked at Diala and smiled.
Then he walked forward.
His foot hovered above the first frost-covered step.
Before it could land, arms wrapped around him from behind.
"Kia..."
Diala pressed her face against his back, holding him tightly.
"I will wait for you here," she said through tears.
"Take care," she added softly. "Don’t get cold."
Kiaria reached back and loosened her grip.
He did not turn.
He stepped forward.
He could already feel her emotions through the red thread connecting their hearts–fear, hope, longing–but he did not allow himself to look back.
One step.
Then another.
With each step, the temperature dropped further, cold biting deeper into the air. Yet the wooden wristband burned warmly against his skin, shielding him from the frost that claid everything else.
Below him, Diala remained standing, watching as his figure grew smaller with every step.
The snow fell silently.
And Kiaria continued upward, alone, toward the split mountain.
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