On the way back from the training ground to the dormitory, the two walked side by side, neither speaking.
Xuanxi’s hand still retained the warmth of Hildegrifa’s palm. Being water attribute, her own body temperature should have been lower, but in that split second just now, she felt her palm burning hot.
Hildegrifa walked beside her, her stride as steady as ever. Her silver-white long hair drifted in the twilight breeze.
But Xuanxi noticed—she wasn’t walking ahead today; she was keeping pace, shoulder to shoulder. The distance between them was close enough for Xuanxi to smell the scent of body wash on her.
Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her arm.
Back in the dormitory, Xuanxi showered first. As the hot water streamed over her, she closed her eyes, replaying those words over and over in her mind. “Become my wife.”
Hildegrifa wasn’t the type to say “I like you.” She was the type to skip straight past confessions and head directly for an instant wedding.
At that thought, Xuanxi turned the water temperature lower. Cold water splashed her face, carrying a slight chill. As a water-attribute body, she had a natural affinity for water, but what she needed right now wasn’t closeness—it was calm.
When she came out of the bathroom, Hildegrifa was already sitting on her bed. Her silver-white hair spilled over her shoulders, glowing with a soft luster under the lamplight.
She wore a light-colored robe, a book in her hand—and this time she was genuinely reading, not just using it as decoration. The page-turning rhythm was steady, leaf by leaf.
Xuanxi sat down on her own bed. The two of them were separated by the semi-transparent screen, each in their own quiet.
Hildegrifa spoke first.
“You did well today.” Her voice came from the other side of the screen, as flat and calm as usual, as if stating a perfectly normal fact. “Your skill usage was good. The last move—the timing was right. Your entry speed was faster than in training.”
This was the first time she’d actively changed the subject. Before, she’d never cared what the topic was; silence was fine too. But today, she deliberately, proactively steered the conversation away from that line.
As if she didn’t want Xuanxi to feel pressured. Xuanxi didn’t call her out on it. “Your lightning was fast too—faster than in training. I didn’t expect you to get back so quickly.”
“Because you were beside me.” Hildegrifa’s voice was very soft. “When you’re here, I don’t need to worry about defense.”
Those words made Xuanxi’s heart race faster than “Become my wife.” When you’re here, I don’t need to worry about defense.
Because she trusted that Xuanxi could catch whatever she missed. That was the highest trust one warrior could give another.
Xuanxi opened her mouth to say something, but before the words could escape, the communication stone vibrated. She pulled the old-fashioned black-and-white stone from under her pillow.
On the screen, message after message popped up—all from Elsa. Elsa had forwarded every forum post to her, like a diligent little hamster moving an entire building right in front of her.
The first post was from forty minutes ago, twenty minutes after the assessment ended. The title was in bold large characters: 《Water Attribute Awakening! What’s the Deal with That “No Bloodline” Girl?》
Xuanxi scrolled down.
“Water attribute? For real? Hasn’t it been extinct for over a hundred years?”
“Could it be a misjudgment? Her water wall might be some mutated wind or ice attribute?”
“Did you guys notice her dragon form? No wings. Are there any dragons without wings in the Western Dragon Clan?”
“Whatever her attribute, she alone held off four people’s attacks. Didn’t you see that?”
“Wait, that water wall of hers didn’t rise from the ground—it condensed from the air. That’s not ordinary water attribute. That’s spiritual water.”
“What’s spiritual water?”
“I heard it’s something from the Eastern Dragon Clan—a combination of spiritual energy and water element.”
On the forum, discussions about “spiritual water” were sparse, quickly buried under other comments. But Xuanxi stared at those two words for a long time. Spiritual water—the fusion of spiritual energy and water element.
Scrolling down a few more pages, one comment made her finger stop.
“Water-attribute dragons… historically, not many ended well. The last water-attribute dragon from a hundred and fifty years ago was taken away by three families working together, and no one ever saw her again. Hope this new student stays safe.”
A chill ran down Xuanxi’s spine. What Hildegrifa had said in the training ground matched this comment exactly—water attribute had been extinct for over a hundred years, not because no one had awakened it, but because those who did didn’t survive.
She’d assumed Hildegrifa had read that in family records; she didn’t expect someone on the forum to know about it too.
The communication stone was pulled from her hand.
Xuanxi looked up and found Hildegrifa had somehow come around the screen and was standing by her bed. Silver-white hair hung from her shoulders like a flowing waterfall under the lamplight.
She looked down at the comment on the stone screen, her amethyst-colored eyes calm—so calm they were like a frozen lake. But Xuanxi noticed the fingers gripping the stone, the knuckles turning white.
“You don’t need to read that,” she said.
Her voice was soft, but Xuanxi caught the tone hidden beneath it—the tone that didn’t want her to see those comments about “water-attribute dragons not having good ends.”
Hildegrifa placed the communication stone on the nightstand, screen facing down. “You fought a good battle today. You don’t need to end it with this.”
Xuanxi looked at her. The lamplight came from the side, casting a profile of half brightness and half shadow on her face. The silver-white strands were almost translucent in the light.
“You’re worried about me,” Xuanxi said.
“I’m protecting you.” Hildegrifa didn’t deny it. She paused, as if choosing her words carefully.
“From today on, a lot of people will be watching you. Just because you’re water attribute—your very existence means some will want to obtain you, and some will want to destroy you.”
Xuanxi leaned against the headboard, looking up at her.
“And you? Xige, which kind are you?”
Hildegrifa lowered her head. Amethyst eyes met amber-gold eyes. The lamplight flickered between them, making both pairs of eyes glisten.
“I’m the third kind,” she said. “I’m neither side. I’m yours.”
The room was quiet for a moment. The chirping of insects outside came through the closed window, thin and dense like a lullaby without lyrics.
Xuanxi reached out, took the communication stone from Hildegrifa’s hand, turned it over, and placed it beside her pillow. “Then I won’t read it. You said I don’t need to, so I won’t.”
Hildegrifa stood there, looking down at her.
“Mm.”
Then she turned and walked back to her own bed, rounded the screen, and lay down. Tonight, she draped the blanket over her waist, one arm pillowed behind her head, facing the direction of the screen.
Xuanxi also lay down, facing the screen.
“Xige.”
“Mm.”
“About what you said earlier.”
On the other side of the screen, there was a moment of silence—no tension, no expectation—then Hildegrifa responded immediately.
“I’m going to do it. No matter what your answer ends up being, I’m going to do it. I’ll convince the family, using every means I have.”
Hildegrifa’s voice came through the screen, lower than usual, as if she were saying something very heavy. “Besides, this is also for your safety.”
Xuanxi tugged at her blanket. She reached her hand under the screen, exposing a few fingers.
On the other side, a hand reached over and grasped hers. It was tighter than usual, but not painfully tight—more like the interlocking fingers of lovers.