The "detention" in the stables was supposed to be a punishment, but with the Dream-Eating Tapir effectively banished to the far corner, it had become Vincy's first moment of peace. The air in the stall was thick with the scent of Star-Core Clover, a vibrant, glowing grass that pulsed with a faint, rhythmic heat.
"Eat it," Piet's voice was no longer a drawl; it was an command. "Your meridians are currently as thin as spider silk. If you don't strengthen them now, the next time I have to save your life, your own body will shatter from the pressure."
"Is it... is it safe?" Vincy asked, picking up a handful of the glowing stalks. "It looks like it's vibrating."
"It is the essence of the Primordial Star Scripture's foundational energy," Piet explained. "In my era, we called it the 'Bone of the Galaxy.' To you, it's just a very expensive salad. Now, chew."
Vincy took a bite. It tasted like ozone and honeyed lightning.
The moment the juice hit his tongue, the stable didn't just vanish; it inverted. Vincy felt a sickening pull at the base of his skull, and suddenly, he wasn't standing in muck. He was floating in a void of violet silk and silver fire.
Standing across from him was Piet. But it wasn't the shimmering, translucent ghost he usually saw. This Piet was solid, wearing robes of starlight and holding a sword that seemed to be forged from the silence between stars.
"Where are we?" Vincy whispered.
"The Soul-Sea," Piet replied, his voice echoing with a weight that made Vincy's chest ache. "Because you consumed the clover while our souls are merged, the barrier between us has thinned. You wanted to know who I am? Look."
The violet silk around them rippled, turning into a living tapestry of memories.
Vincy saw a sprawling empire that reached across galaxies—the Primordial Star Dynasty. He saw Piet, not as a sarcastic voice, but as a Crown Prince who stood alone against a tide of shadow-creatures that could swallow suns. He saw the betrayal—a brother's blade, a poisoned ritual, and the desperate act of shattering his own soul into a scripture to prevent the enemy from claiming his power.
"You... you were a god," Vincy said, awestruck.
"I was a man who forgot that even stars can go out," Piet said, his eyes darkening.
Then, the vision shifted. Piet saw Vincy's life—the dusty roads of Buckinga, the smell of rain on dry earth, and the simple, quiet fear of a boy who just wanted to make sure his grandmother had enough grain for the winter.
"How... how can someone be so small?" Piet wondered aloud, his arrogance momentarily softened by the sheer, grounded humanity of Vincy's memories. "Your greatest ambition was to own a sturdier hoe?"
"It was a very good hoe," Vincy defended, blushing.
The shared dream shattered as the Tapir let out a thunderous sneeze, blowing a cloud of dream-dust over them. Vincy gasped, falling back into the hay. His body felt different—heavier, yet more resonant. His skin had a faint, silver sheen that faded as he breathed out a cloud of glowing vapor.
"The clover has anchored me," Piet's voice returned to its usual sharp tone, though there was a new thread of... respect? "And it has widened your 'bucket.' You might actually survive the first week of cultivation now."
While Vincy was coming to terms with his new internal geography, the world outside was moving.
In the high towers of the Sect, Master Hemlock was pacing in front of Elder Karl. "I'm telling you, Elder! He didn't just scare the Tapir. He subjugated it! The beast hasn't moved for three hours! And the students... they're starting a cult!"
"A cult?" Karl asked, amused.
"The Order of the Sparrow," Hemlock spat. "They believe he is a reincarnated Immortal hiding in a peasant's body to test our virtue. If we don't do something, he'll be running the school by the end of the month!"
Karl looked at a report on his desk. "The Outer Sect Enforcers have already taken notice. Baron's older brother, Cyrus, has returned from the borderlands. He doesn't believe in 'Immortal Sparrows.' He only believes in results."
Karl smiled, a cold, calculating expression. "Let them clash. If Vincy is a vessel, Cyrus will break the jar and show us what's inside."