Song’s voice cut through her thoughts. "You planning your next move already, aren’t you?"
She blinked, glancing up to see him watching her knowingly. His expression was sowhere between exasperated and fond.
"You’re supposed to be resting, Captain," he drawled. "Not plotting whatever suicidal thing you’re thinking."
"I’m not plotting," she said mildly. "Just... thinking ahead."
Ye Qingxue groaned. "Which, in your dictionary, ans plotting."
Ling Yu grinned slightly, unrepentant. "You all know too well."
They shared a round of soft laughter again, the tension dissolving for a mont.
But when the laughter faded, Song’s gaze lingered. His tone turned quiet. "You scared us last night, you know."
Ling Yu t his eyes, her expression softening. "I know. Sorry for that."
He didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. The slight nod he gave was enough.
After breakfast, everyone scattered to their own tasks. Nie Ziyu took charge of checking the nearby supply routes; Ye Qingxue went to inspect the repaired barriers. Song stayed behind to clean the dishes while Xian Yu went to replenish his healing supplies.
Ling Yu stepped out onto the balcony, the morning sun painting her hair gold. From up here, she could see the entirety of the western fortress, walls still under repair, scavenger groups moving through the ruined streets, smoke rising faintly from the parts that had burned last night.
The air carried a faint tang of ozone, the residue of divine energy, now dissipating.
She rested her arms on the railing, eyes narrowing slightly as she watched the horizon.
The Divine Anchor might be gone, but this place wasn’t safe yet.
The whisper in her chest hadn’t faded, and the Divine Stream above, those watching gods, had gone eerily quiet since last night. Almost as if they were waiting for sothing.
She exhaled softly.
"Sothing’s coming."
Her hand rose to touch her neck again, the faint mark pulsing once beneath her skin before disappearing.
For a fleeting mont, she thought she heard it again.
That voice. That sa one from the anchor.
"You think you’ve won, little mortal?"
Her eyes snapped open, but the voice was gone. The sunlight was bright, warm, ordinary.
Fluffy wled from behind her, climbing onto her shoulder again. His tiny paws pressed against her cheek as if grounding her back to reality. She smiled faintly, reaching up to scratch under his chin.
"I’m fine, Fluff. Just overthinking."
But deep inside, she knew she wasn’t imagining things.
This wasn’t over.
***
By the ti the sun reached its peak, laughter and footsteps filled the flat again. Xian Yu had managed to brew new potions, Ye Qingxue was arguing with Song about rationing, and Fluffy had stolen a dried fish off the counter, sparking a miniature chase through the hall.
Ling Yu leaned against the doorfra, watching them all, the faintest smile curving her lips.
These people were her reason to keep moving. Her anchor in a world full of monsters and gods.
But the thought lingered still.
Sowhere out there, Ji Xiulan was moving.
And when their paths crossed again... everything would change.
For now, though, just for a fleeting morning, Ling Yu allowed herself to sit back down at the table, listening to her companions argue over the last piece of fruit, pretending, if only for a mont, that the world outside wasn’t falling apart.
The fortress walls lood against the horizon like dark sentinels, silent and solemn in the pale light of dawn. The wind carried with it a faint tallic tang, the lingering scent of smoke and blood that never truly faded in this broken world.
Ling Yu stood at the edge of the observation platform, her hands gripping the railing as she stared toward the northern border. Beyond that invisible line lay the next dungeon gate, faintly glowing even from miles away, a hovering rift like a vertical wound in space itself.
The clouds above it swirled unnaturally, pulled by the energy distortion that rippled from its core.
It wasn’t open yet. But soon, it would be.
The air over the western fortress had changed.
The faint hum of energy barriers trembled under the wind, and on the watchtowers, the sentinels’ faces had grown grim. From afar, one could see the faint shimr of violet rifts twisting in the skyline, new dungeon gates forming, pulsing like infected wounds in the sky.
Inside the operations hall, the atmosphere was just as heavy. The holographic map spread across the table displayed glowing red dots marking dungeon activity. The number was increasing rapidly.
Ling Yu stood at the center, her arms crossed, gaze sharp as glass.
"...How long until the next overflow?" she asked.
Ye Qingxue, flipping through the mission log, replied with a tight expression. "At this rate, thirty-six hours at most. Maybe less. The mana pressure’s already unstable."
Ling Yu nodded, eyes narrowing slightly. "That’s faster than before."
Her mind spun through calculations. The last overflow had nearly wiped out three outposts before they managed to intercept. If this kept accelerating, there would soon be no way to defend every gate.
That’s when her gaze hardened, her decision already made.
"Then we stop waiting," she said quietly.
Song, who leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. "You an...?"
"Exactly." Ling Yu looked up, her eyes gleaming with determination. "We enter the dungeon before it erupts."
The room went silent. Xian Yu’s pen froze mid-motion. Even Ye Qingxue looked up from her tablet, startled.
"You an... we clear it from the inside?" Nie Ziyu finally asked, disbelief and intrigue mixing in his tone.
Ling Yu nodded once. "From my observation, there’s a pattern to these gates. They build up energy over ti. When that limit’s reached, they overflow, releasing monsters into our world. But if we enter before the threshold and eliminate the source inside, we might be able to collapse it from within."
"That’s..." Xian Yu frowned. "Dangerous."
"Everything we do is dangerous," Song muttered, pushing off the wall. "But it’s also efficient. If it works, we’d stop overflows entirely. No casualties, cleanup, or defense strain."
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