Lan Xiaohui cries out in pain this time, as the fire energies coursing through her body intensify. Her knuckles turn white as she balls her hands into fists.

“Your highness, p-please stay your anger,” Wu Yulan says, leaning forward over the table. “We have never met Lu Long — he disappeared from this world a long time ago. We only heard of him.”

The killing intent recedes slowly and even Lan Xiaohui’s expression relaxes slightly as a result.

“I don’t sense any dishonesty,” the figure says, for once not referring to herself as a princess. “Very well. Tell me what you have heard of Lu Long.”

Wu Yulan swallows nervously, leaning back and assuming her original stance — mostly using this time to gather her thoughts. Her sword failed her, but her negotiation skills may still have value here.

“Your highness, what this Wu Yulan may have heard is no doubt just lies that would make your ears bleed,” she says with a measured tone. “It may not even be related to you. The story I have heard concerns Lu Long and the Fire Empress.”

At those words, the figure frowns, the ice cup in her hand shattering into countless fragments.

Wu Yulan swallows nervously once more. “Your highness, could it be that this Fire Empress is you?”

The figure looks away from the center of the table, focusing her gaze on Wu Yulan. Slowly, she nods. “This princess is not an Empress, but he did call her by that title.”

A flash of genuine anger briefly crosses Wu Yulan’s face. This is not entirely on behalf of the figure — considering the grievances between the figure and Wu Yulan and my owner, they no doubt feel that this figure deserves to be locked up here until the end of time — but Wu Yulan most certainly does not like being lied to or told false stories.

“Your highness, would you enlighten this Wu Yulan on who you are, and what truly happened to you?” Wu Yulan asks.

“I will not,” the figure says.

Wu Yulan frowns. Negotiating was not possible after all.

With a groan, Lan Xiaohui stirs. “I will… kill Lu Long… under one… condition.”

The figure glances at my owner and waves her hand, subduing some of the fire energy burning in my owner’s soul. “What is your condition?”

“You have to… let one of us go… before it is… too late,” Lan Xiaohui says.

“Too late? Why are you in such a hurry?” the figure asks.

Lan Xiaohui winces.

“It is our friend,” Wu Yulan replies in my owner’s stead. “She has been afflicted with a poison that is eating away at her roots. She needs treatment or she will die.”

Lan Xiaohui tightens her hands into fists once more. “If you let… us treat her… I will forget… what happened here,” Lan Xiaohui manages to squeeze the words through her agony. “And this Lu Long… if he is still… alive… I will kill him… even if it costs me… my life.”

These are not merely empty words. They are an oath. Every word is as steel and the core of Lan Xiaohui’s determination.

Wu Yulan frowns. She is not so eager to make pacts with devils, but hearing her companion so easily determine white and black in the world, she cannot help but allow her heart to soften.

Wu Yulan nods in agreement. “If you let one of us go to treat our friend, we will throw our lives away to kill Lu Long on your behalf.” No more your highness or diplomacy.

The figure chuckles and nods. “This princess has seen firsthand how little you value your life and how eager you are to die for your way,” she says. “That is why this princess is willing to consider it.”

Wu Yulan and Lan Xiaohui both stare at the figure, unable to come to terms that the situation has turned out this way. From certain death to mostly certain death but at another time.

“This princess no longer has the luxury of even dreaming to escape this place,” she explains. “In this life, she has never expected to come across anyone other than that man. All these years, this princess has made preparations and eroded this prison’s formation, but it is not enough. In this life, this princess cannot have revenge… or so she thought.”

With this, her clear blue eyes fix on Lan Xiaohui and Wu Yulan.

“If you grant us our condition, you can entrust your grievances and debts to us,” Wu Yulan says, still frowning.

Slowly, the figure stands up. “This princess does not want your assurances. This princess wants your results. When this princess backed you into a corner, your comprehension of natural energy improved drastically and quickly. This princess had never seen anything like it,” she says, a cruel smile lingering on her perfect lips. “When you were certain of your death, you unleashed power beyond what you were capable of — without hesitation or grievance over the consequences. This princess would not have the guts to do the same.”

Wu Yulan and Lan Xiaohui both narrow their eyes, suspecting some deeper meaning behind the figure’s words.

“You burned away your life and your talent to hurt this princess, so as you are now, you cannot even survive against an opponent of lower cultivation. You will kill Lu Long if I let one of you go? This princess cannot tell if you are serious or joking,” she says. “This princess believes that you care about your friend, enough to throw away your life and die at Lu Long’s hands. But how does this benefit this princess? This princess wants him dead.”

Wu Yulan’s frown deepens.

“Thinking like this, this princess has come to a conclusion,” she says, lifting her hands to shoulder level at her sides, palms turned up. “Since she cannot kill Lu Long in this life, and you are the only ones this princess will meet, perhaps it is fate that it should be you to kill Lu Long for me.”

“How?” Wu Yulan asks. “You said so yourself; as we are now, we cannot kill an opponent of even lower cultivation.”

“That is simple,” the figure says, as simultaneously an ice lotus and a fire lily bloom in each of the figure’s hands. “This princess is Eternal Red of the Nine Frozen Suns. She was born with two divine roots: Ice and Fire. This princess will give each one of you half of her origin and rebuild your roots.”

The words are so shocking that Wu Yulan’s and Lan Xiaohui’s thoughts grind to a halt. Rebuild someone’s roots? Is such a thing even possible without medicine? It is not just their roots that are missing — their vitality has been destroyed, especially in Lan Xiaohui’s case.

“Lan Xiaohui, I will give you my fire phoenix heritage and my fire cultivation method: Salvation Ashes,” the figure says as she flicks a finger and sends the fire lily floating toward Lan Xiaohui.

The fire lily floats gently towards my owner, spinning rapidly. When it strikes her chest, a gold halo appears behind Lan Xiaohui’s head as her gold core, surprisingly, pulses once more to life. After this pulse, nine orbs of fire appear at regular intervals around the gold halo.

This time, when Lan Xiaohui screams, it is because she has never felt such pain in her entire life. It is not just her root that is being reborn, but all her broken veins and meridians that are returning to life and flowing with pure fire. The lily in her hair bursts into flames.

Wu Yulan’s eyes are wide and filled with fear. What kind of godlike power is the ability to rebuild roots, spiritual veins, and broken life vessels? Could this figure even bring the dead back to life?

“Wu Yulan, I will give you my ice phoenix heritage and my ice cultivation method: Frozen World Apocalypse.”

When the ice lotus strikes Wu Yulan, she similarly collapses to the ground and writhes in pure agony, screaming just like my owner.

Even with medicine, rebuilding the roots is only enough to change their aspect slightly. A result that can directly improve their innate talent — or origin — would be a heaven-defying treasure. At lower talent, it is possible to improve it slightly with much effort and knowledge, but not this drastically.

The roots that I sense within Lan Xiaohui and Wu Yulan, as their nascent form comes into being, are heaven-defying powers themselves.

“With this, I only have twenty years left to live, and enough strength to cure whatever poison maladies your friend. Bring her to this princess, and I will see to it that you no longer have to concern yourself with her well-being,” the figure says and sits down once more, crossing her legs.

Hearing these words, both Wu Yulan and Lan Xiaohui stop struggling. Even their screaming stops. Now that they are no longer resisting the influence of the figure’s dual heritage, it is much less painful.

“However, if this princess runs out of life before Lu Long dies, not only the two of you, but your friend will also die with me,” the figure says and then gestures with her hand.

An invisible force picks up Lan Xiaohui and Wu Yulan, lifting them off the ground and they remain levitating in mid-air.

“With this, you should be able to draw on the same strength you used against me. Whether this is enough to kill Lu Long or not, we shall see. You have twenty years.”

The door at the other end of the room opens, and the two girls, including my vessel, are tossed out into the broken stone courtyard outside.

When the door closes, Wu Yulan and Lan Xiaohui both pass out from the lingering agony and the relief that they both feel at surviving an encounter with what very well may truly be a living deity.