“Xiaoxue… please, take me to look for Feini… right now, you’re the only one I can ask…”
Ever since she figured things out that day, Shijietang Simon had been pestering Xueyuedai every single day, begging her to think of a way.
“So annoying, I’m already making arrangements! I want to find Feini too, so stop nagging and get out of my way.”
Every day, Xueyuedai had to use all her energy just to shake off Shijietang, who really clung to her like glue.
Now, she knew Feini’s true identity and also understood why she’d been so easily countered last time in Feini’s spiritual domain—so she was actually an Immortal Archdemon.
This was a bizarre kind of demon beast, even greater than a World-Ending Beast.
Even those ancient beings like the Hongshan Dragon, who had lived for thousands of years, would eventually die of old age, at least in theory.
But Immortal Archdemons aged only by the passage of time itself.
Of course, that was a bit vague—there were plenty of races that didn’t age, with the Vampires being the most notable example.
Every pure-blood Vampire was a vessel of Bloodline power, able to live forever as long as they fed regularly, but that alone didn’t qualify them as Immortal Archdemons.
Yet, the Bloodline truly did have Immortal Archdemons—that was the origin and apex of their entire race: [Truth].
And then, the Nameless Witch could also be considered an Immortal Archdemon, though nobody would ever call her that.
Besides them, the most renowned of all was the Demon-Slaying Sword wielded by the Northern Demon King, ruling over a vast region of the demon realm’s north.
Everyone knew that the Northern Demon King was just a title, easily replaced at any time, but the Demon-Slaying Sword was the true eternal existence.
Yet the Demon-Slaying Sword had another name no one expected—Shijietang knew that name, but never told her.
Thinking about it, it seemed Shijietang’s background was probably deeply tied to the Demon King’s Army.
“Simon, you’re back.”
“Simon, are you alright?”
“Simon, you look terrible.”
Under Xueyuedai’s persistent threats, Shijietang Simon had finally started coming to class again—she couldn’t just disappear every single day.
“Good day, I’m fine, thank you for your concern.”
Shijietang forced a smile—anyone could tell she wasn’t herself, and she’d even sat in the wrong seat, taking the spot where Feini’s trash bin was.
In class, she didn’t pay attention at all, just lying facedown on Feini’s desk.
She wasn’t even sleeping, just pressing her face against the table and staring out the window, lost in a daze day after day, as if her Soul had wandered off.
Other than her single, customary noble’s greeting in the morning, Shijietang didn’t interact with anyone—she was like a zombie dragon.
Xueyuedai, on the other hand, was genuinely busy, planning the next infiltration mission with the Training Director, the Faceless Witch.
But the Faceless Witch said they still needed a bit more time to prepare.
When Xueyuedai asked what the issue was, the Faceless Witch refused to answer—just told her to go home and wait.
Xueyuedai had no idea why the witch needed more time, but there was nothing she could do except wait it out.
Without the witches’ support, there was simply no way for them to enter the Human Race’s territory.
The scene shifted back to the Preparation Plain, full of Adventurer Guilds.
Feini was still sleeping, placed in the secret underground chamber of a small manor, dressed in a pristine white gown— just like a sleeping beauty.
At peace, she looked a hundred times prettier; sometimes, the illusion was shattered the moment she opened her mouth.
“Feini, we made a round at the Adventurer Association today. We registered Blackie as an Adventurer too. Everything went smoothly, so you don’t need to worry.”
Every night, Qingshamu would come down and sit by the bed, quietly gazing at Feini for a while, feeling depressed for a full minute, and then muttering a few awkward, rustic lines of love before finally dragging herself back to her own room to sleep.
If it weren’t for the White Feather Dove and Heiqi Long keeping watch, she might have ended up sleeping down here with Feini.
Just as she’d said, Heiqi Long had also gone to register as an Adventurer at the association.
With Qingshamu and White Feather Dove—both gold-ranked Adventurers—accompanying her, the process went smoothly without arousing any suspicion.
She certainly had plenty of opinions about Blackie—it wasn’t her child, after all, but her enemy’s child, so wasn’t she just raising her enemy’s kid?
But after some time together, she realized Heiqi Long was just a bottomless pit—so long as you fed her, she was obedient, totally different from her own daughter who was full of schemes. She was actually a very easy, good child.
Qingshamu’s current plan was to act as an Adventurer and take on missions—ostensibly to earn money, but in reality, to gather intelligence.
What they needed now were weapons with Souls to feed Feini. Only then could they awaken her.
But weapons with Souls were usually Divine Weapons—not so easy to find.
Still, just because it was difficult didn’t mean they could give up.
So, every day, they’d camp out at the Adventurer Association, secretly listening in on Adventurer gossip, quietly collecting intel, and when they earned enough money, they’d visit the Tavern and buy information from Informants.
Qingshamu was exceptionally clever. She hadn’t spent any of the vast funds she’d gotten from the Holy Church, so as not to attract attention.
She always pretended to be broke, only spending what they earned from doing missions.
That way, they wouldn’t attract any unsavory characters. After all, this place was hardly governed by law and order, and Adventurer wasn’t exactly a reputable profession.
Still, trouble always found them eventually…
Bang! Bang! Bang!
One day, the wooden door of the small manor was pounded violently.
The trio was eating in the courtyard, and all three were startled.
Qingshamu picked up her double-faced helmet and put it on.
Even though she was dressed in peasant clothes, the faceplate and helmet were a must. She walked over to open the door.
“Where are you from, huh?”
“Why don’t you have a door plate?”
“Don’t you know the rules!?”
Outside stood a crowd of rough, dust-covered Adventurer brutes, glaring fiercely and shouting, eager to barge into the manor.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Qingshamu didn’t hold back. With a flick of her hand, several streaks of Moonlight Sword Qi flashed past the Adventurers, raising a mist of blood and slicing away their shoddy armor and weapons.
She had already gone easy—if she’d struck them directly, there’d be corpses everywhere.
The Adventurers instantly froze in terror, covered in bloody cuts, yet none dared to utter a sound—afraid that making a noise would mean their death.
“Scram. I’m a magician. This is my Magic Workshop. I’ve memorized all your faces. If I ever see you again, if anyone dares disturb us again, I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth,” Qingshamu barked.
“Yes, yes, we’re leaving!” The Adventurers actually rolled on the ground as they ran, fleeing in a panic.
Qingshamu shut the door and went back to finish her meal, as if nothing had happened at all.
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