The moment Kiaria and Diala stepped out of the relic chamber, Princess Lainsa's footsteps thundered across the corridor. Her cloak snapped sharply behind her like a whip cutting the air. Before Kiaria could even prepare a smile, her hand descended on his head with the weight of fury and worry combined.
"HOW–DARE–you make us worry?!"
She struck again, knuckles digging into his skull.
Kiaria flinched and tried to dodge. "S-Sister Lainsa! Wait–! I can explain–stop, stop–!"
Diala instantly curled into herself beside him, shrinking like a small frightened animal. She covered her head with her cloak as though the Princess might strike her next.
Lainsa's voice trembled–anger layered over fear, fear buried under care."Do you know how long you were gone? Do you know what we imagined?! Drowned? Poisoned by the relic? Trapped in a layered illusion!? Dragged into some cursed trial?! Or that the relic spirit decided to eat the both of you?!"
Kiaria lowered his head with the guilt of a child caught stealing. "We… heard a voice calling. It felt like it wanted to speak to me. We went a little closer, and the relic suddenly activated its test. We didn't intend to go inside."
"And instead of stepping back," she hissed, stabbing a finger at him, "you two walked in like you were following a butterfly!"
Kiaria didn't defend himself. He took the scolding as though he'd earned every syllable. Strangely, that tamed her rage more than any excuse could.
Her voice slipped abruptly into his mind through spiritual transmission–sharp, deadly, and full of affection she refused to show aloud:
"Little idiot–
If you want to seek death, seek it alone.Why drag Shade into it?Take her to recuperate immediately.Do. Not. Leave. The. Room."
She spun on her heel before he could even respond, hair swaying like a blade slicing the air, cloak trembling with leftover anger.
Kiaria sighed and placed a gentle hand on Diala's shoulder. "Come. Let's go."
They were only a few steps from the guest quarters when Chief Azriel's voice cut through the corridor.
"Hold it. Both of you."
Kiaria stopped. "Chief?"
Azriel walked toward them slowly, expression tight. His eyes–usually sharp–seemed clouded with something between disbelief and desperation.
"My friend…" he began carefully, "tell me. How did you escape from the relic's trial?"
Kiaria froze.
"Chief… I'm sorry. That part is confidential." His tone was respectful but firm.
Azriel's jaw clenched.
Kiaria continued softly, "But I can tell you one thing–the relic spirit anointed me as…"
He paused, inhaling as if the air itself had thickened.
"…its Patron.Master of the relic."
Silence slammed down like a hammer.
For several breaths, no one moved.
Then Azriel inhaled sharply, as though punched in the stomach.
"Patron…? You said Patron…?"His voice cracked."THE Patron?!"
Princess Lainsa turned sharply, her eyes widening.
Kiaria nodded.
Azriel staggered back a step.
In the Empire, "Patron" did not mean guardian.It meant unrestricted sovereign authority.Above generals.Above nobles.Above sect founders.Above even the Emperor–if the relic verified the Patron.
The Patron served only one existence: the relic's will.
Azriel's breathing grew harsh. "This–this is impossible. Elders failed. Sect Founders failed. Even the Emperor failed. How did you–how could you–?"
Kiaria lifted a hand. "Chief, calm d–"
"Calm down?!" Azriel snapped. "Child, I spent five years studying that relic. I participated in its trial five times! I nearly lost my life each time! And now you–barely with hair on your cheeks–walk in and it crowns you as Patron?"His voice cracked with disbelief."Did you tamper with it?"
Princess Lainsa's eyes hardened. "Azriel. Stop. Right now."
Azriel shook his head. "Lainsa… isn't it humiliating? Don't I have a right to feel hurt? My dream… the dream of my life… and now–snatched in front of me."
Kiaria shook his head gently. "Chief… it wasn't intentional. We didn't even know it was a trial at first. It wasn't something we manipulated or forced."
Diala stepped forward, bowing deeply."Chief Azriel, please do not misunderstand us. If you investigate further, you might violate Patron sovereignty. Even the Emperor cannot question the Patron's trials. Please… let this matter settle."
Azriel shut his eyes.
A long, heavy silence.
Finally, he exhaled slowly, the tension leaving his shoulders.
"…Fine. I'm sorry. Go rest. I swear–I won't dig further."
His gaze lingered on Kiaria for a long moment.
Then, silently, inside his mind:
This boy is a monster.What is his origin…?And how far will he ascend?
But outwardly, he bowed slightly and stepped aside.
Kiaria and Diala entered their room. The door closed behind them with a soft click. Diala barely made it two steps before collapsing onto the bed like a wilted petal.
Kiaria pulled the blanket over her gently."Rest well," he whispered.Her breathing softened, warm and steady.
He stood for several moments, watching her peace.
Then he turned and slipped out quietly.
The corridor hummed with spiritual light as he made his way to the deck.
The river wind hit him first. Cool, sweeping, carrying the scent of mist and moss. The Dragon-Tooth Tiger Boat cut across the vast Infant River like a beast gliding through a silver mirror.
Kiaria walked to the very tip of the front deck and sat cross-legged.
Closing his eyes, he let the world fall away.
The insight he gained inside the relic–the illusion, the water, the test–lingered like an unfinished melody waiting to be played.
He pictured the green wooden vessel inside the relic chamber.Pictured its luminous water.Pictured his reflection, hovering above it.
Then he imagined himself using the Star-Feather Technique to sit directly on the water surface–weightless, untouched.
His consciousness sank deeper.
Water never lies.
The Water of Jealousy had shown him more than illusions.
It had shown:
Water carries emotions–
Water reflects the soul–
Water amplifies spiritual intention–
Water reveals what the heart cannot hide.
If corrupted water can twist spirit…Then purified intention can cleanse water.
If reflection carries emotion…Then reflection carries will.
If water can echo resentment…Then it can echo cultivation.
If I project spiritual intent into water…The water will return it.Twice as strong.
A path of cultivation through reflection–
Amplified by water's truth.
Far away, inside the relic chamber, Kiaria's reflection shivered.
Then it materialized fully–sitting cross-legged on the water exactly as he envisioned.
Tiny green droplets floated up from the surface like millions of shimmering pearls. They rose, converging toward the reflection. Two massive water spheres formed–like twin moons–hovering on either side.
On the deck, Kiaria felt his real body lift from the floor.
He hovered, his breath calm, his posture steady.
In the relic chamber, the reflection was rising too–wrapped inside the twin water spheres.
Uskilen, standing silently near the green pool, widened his eyes.
"…The Embryo of Spiritual Spring…He is forming it during mere insight comprehension…?"
Even in ancient times, that level of control was unheard of.
Back on the deck, Kiaria's real body floated perfectly–but the pressure of insight pushed against his lungs. His breath caught. His chest tightened.
He gasped.
His concentration slipped. He fell sharply–slamming onto the deck.
He lay there groaning. "Still… too early… for control…"
He tried again.
He rose–levitated–wobbled–
–and fell again.
He rubbed his head. "At least the boat deck is soft…"
Another attempt.
This time he controlled his breath.The water answered him.His limbs steadied.His spirit aligned.
And finally–Kiaria floated perfectly, suspended in the breeze.
Inside the relic, the Embryo of Spiritual Spring continued merging, dripping with pure green radiance. It no longer needed Kiaria's conscious guidance. It existed independently–rooted in the reflection he had created.
Kiaria crossed his legs mid-air, stabilizing his posture.
He inhaled.
The river's mist trembled in answer.
He exhaled.
The surface of the water below softened like silk.
His hand shifted slightly.
Droplets from the river rose into the air like obedient spirits.
He felt everything:
The water's pulse.The river's breath.The reflection's echo.The embryo's slow, luminous formation.
His consciousness sank deeper and deeper, threading through the rhythm of the water, sinking into a unity that touched the border of instinct rather than thought.
Wind settled around him like a cloak.The river hushed.Even the boat's hum felt distant.
He was not yet unified with water–
But the path had begun.
His first step into the realm of reflecting cultivation–as Patron: Purifier of Shadows.