When Lan Xiaohui departs the [Killing Field] formation, covered in wounds and dried blood, the disciples that are outside of the formation incline their heads politely to her. There appears to be genuine respect for my owner and not something that is merely part of a polite greeting.

Considering Epsilon’s measures to maintain my Inner World — or rather, the most critical infrastructure — it is entirely possible that Lan Xiaohui, and likely a few others, have done most of the work in generating the energy requirement, making the quotas for the others much lower.

The new, post-apocalyptic order in my Inner World is still in its development phases, but some of the trends are already very telling. The importance these entities place on force multipliers — refiners and alchemists — is a mark of the coming end of their notions of civilization. There are no more luxuries in my Inner World, only a race for survival.

I have never seen a society like this before. I have seen the alternative where limited resources lead to the extinction of all tribes except the one that remains, but in this case, it is not the resources that are limited, but the amount of work required. In other words, the more of them that remain, the easier it will be to survive. At the same time, however, the availability of force multipliers is limited, and sharing the effects of these multipliers with everyone is a death sentence for all.

It is a fascinating development wrought on by immortality — in the sense that if they die, they will return, but if they are erased, they will disappear forever — and the extinction problem having a nature different from scarcity.

Perhaps, in the waning years of my lifespan that remain, I will have an opportunity to see a different side of these carbon-based entities; can they cooperate on the eve of the apocalypse, or will they all fall short and be eradicated?

It is not strange at all that they respect Lan Xiaohui, but what occupies most of my processing power is attempting to deduce just what kind of training Lan Xiaohui must’ve gone through.

Twenty months ago, if the time compression remained at twenty to one the entire time, I observed her in the formation and her opponents were ten Nascent Soul realm demonic beasts. Simply put, back then, Lan Xiaohui would not have survived for a fraction of a second against them.

I do not think, no matter how talented Lan Xiaohui is, that she could have obtained the power to resist that many Nascent Soul realm beasts, much less defeat all of them. Killing one of them is a notion that is already so absurd that it challenges the limits of my understanding. However, that demonic beast that died under her sword was most certainly of the Nascent Soul realm.

As I watch her walk through the formation nexus hall, I get the sense that she is entering a martial trance. However, this one is unlike the one she entered in the Ancient Sword Graveyard; this one, in particular, is similar to the trance that Wu Yulan is in.

[Empty Moon Prana].

When Lan Xiaohui selected this method, among the many others available, she said that it was because she wanted to cultivate her heart and mind. The method she chose is most aligned with not only the principles of nature that favor stillness, but also the total lack of emotion and distraction.

When she enters the [Icy Sword Waterfall], she does not hesitate for even a moment as she wades into the lake with the terrifyingly powerful accumulation of sword force and ice qi. When I first saw this formation and lake, I deduced that it would be very dangerous to Lan Xiaohui, both due to the cold as well as the amount of sword force within it.

Yet, neither of these things seem to bother Lan Xiaohui as she submerges fully into the lake, and the sword force begins grinding away at her flesh. Instead of suffering a complete structural integrity failure, the red mist of her blood seeping into the water is only due to the wounds she had already sustained.

Just like with Wu Yulan, it is not only that the sword force cannot harm Lan Xiaohui, but she is absorbing it through her pores, and using the natural vitality extracted from it to repair her wounds. Perhaps calling it a restoration would be wrong. She is tempering her body by eroding the previous, weaker flesh, and allowing her qi and vitality to repair the wounds.

Is this how Lan Xiaohui trained herself all this time? Suffering countless wounds in the [Killing Field] and then dragging herself to the [Icy Sword Waterfall] to suffer more damage, tempering her body? Even if this body tempering does not equate to anything in the world outside this one, the principle of absorbing, manipulating, and extracting sword qi from nature is an invaluable lesson.

When it comes to obtaining the fourth layer of [Empty Moon Prana], my initial estimate, before all of this, would have been ten times longer. But in this environment, with this mindset, it is entirely possible, with a focused enough cultivation strategy, to obtain it in a short amount of time.

Lan Xiaohui winces beneath the water and curls up into a ball, but her resistance to the water — through her protective qi — lessens with each breath. What kind of excruciating pain must Lan Xiaohui be feeling right now? What kind of mental strength does it take to withstand this torture for so long?

I focus on Wu Yulan who is calmly meditating beneath the waterfall. I understand now why I could not decypher her method of defense against the waterfall. She doesn’t employ one.

I didn’t notice this fact because her mastery of [Empty Moon Prana] is so advanced that the pain she is feeling is simply unable to enter her conscious mind. Her cultivation method is that of calmness even under the most extreme of circumstances, which is perfectly suited to her martial art of executing a single, perfect strike in a single, perfect moment.

Whether they are the first and foremost geniuses on this continent, I don’t know. It is unlikely. However, when it comes to cultivation methods and the strength of their hearts, they are certainly unmatched, monstrous existences.

When it comes to turning hardships into strength, I would be surprised if there was someone else who could be their equal.

Perhaps it is a shame that hardship comes without guarantees. They will most certainly lose their lives soon, and their journey will end here. It might even be that the world would never learn that they existed — two entities that were qualified to seek the apex.

The fact that they do not resent me for leading them to this place, instead of allowing them to walk in circles in the blizzard, is further evidence of their understanding of mortality. The principles of the [Transient Sword] remain deeply embedded in their hearts.

All is transient, in this world, including themselves. Perhaps, in their interpretation, they do not see this as the end of their journey, but as the fruition of their efforts; an opportunity to leave an indelible mark in their hearts that time will not erode.

Life is transient, death is everlasting.

Several hours later, Lan Xiaohui, with her wounds mostly recovered, floats to the top of the surface and then kicks with her legs, launching herself out of the lake, and landing gently, like a feather, on its surface. Her heels click with gold lightning, but they never submerge into the liquid.

She walks on top of the lake toward Wu Yulan, as if it were a solid surface, and forces a gentle smile to her lips.

“Yulan,” she whispers. “It is time for us to go.”

There is no question if her companion is ready. There’s no authority in her tone either.

The waterfall stills for one final time, flow completely halted, and then the water — in the shape of icicles — explodes in all directions, raining hail onto the entirety of the formation world, as Wu Yulan opens her eyes and climbs to her feet.

Wu Yulan smiles and approaches Lan Xiaohui. She takes my owner’s hand into hers, smile blossoming. “I don’t want to say that all good things come to an end, but there is something I do want to say.”

As she speaks, the remnants of the frozen water of the waterfall that was scattered into the air begin to fall like glittering snow around them. In the meantime, the waterfall has resumed its violent flow.

“I don’t regret meeting you, even if we die here and now. Until now, I don’t think I understood the meaning of the word ‘happiness’.” Wu Yulan lowers her head, pausing briefly for the same reason that Lan Xiaohui’s eyes are filling up with tears as she nods along to the words.

“I would do it all again, even if it ends the same way,” Wu Yulan continues, the tempo of her words slowing down. “I was truly happy to have been born.”

Wu Yulan lifts her gold eyes to meet Lan Xiaohui’s gaze and offers another, warmer smile.

Within Lan Xiaohui’s heart, the knot and devil that represented her guilt for leading Wu Yulan to this conclusion melt away and she accepts Wu Yulan’s emotions and forgiveness by reciprocating the smile and leaning her forehead against Wu Yulan’s.

Their eyes close, and after a brief moment, Wu Yulan adds.

“Let’s meet again in our next life.”