"So what will you do now?"
Xue Kui shrugged with empty hands.
"No idea yet. But first—I need somewhere cold."
He raised a finger, and a snowflake-shaped shard of ice formed, glittering.
"Since I come from snow, right?"
Ping nodded slowly. Then she noticed the brat tugging at her sleeve.
"…What now?"
"Hehe—Ping-jie, do you know anywhere really cold?"
Ping stared at him.
Of all the questions she expected, that wasn't one.
There was an old mortal saying: The higher you go, the colder it gets.
In this region without extreme tundra, Ping gave him the simplest advice—
Go up.
So after they parted, Xue Kui climbed alone through a steep mountain path.
Clouds and mist curled around him as he exhaled a puff of frost into the air.
He plucked a fresh mint sprig beaded with morning dew and tossed it into his mouth.
A cool sweetness bloomed across his tongue.
Finally—something tasty.
Eating this stopped him from going down the mountain to hunt boar and roast it.
(Not because he didn't want to, but because his cooking was terrible.)
The mountain was odd. Its name was Mt. Aozang.
The higher he climbed, the stronger he sensed the flow of elemental energy running through the mountain's ley line.
"An entire mountain connected by one vein? Rare."
He muttered to himself, clicking his tongue in appreciation.
Cold, bone-deep cold, but to him—
It was home.
When he finally reached the summit, there was nothing—not one blade of grass.
He crouched down and touched the ground.
Ice frost bloomed instantly across his palm.
He crushed the frost lightly, watching it vanish with the wind.
The ice energy here was overwhelming.
Only Cryo Whopperflowers or Cryo Slimes could tolerate such purity.
Xue Kui stood in the center of the peak and… froze.
Even with all his cleverness, he had no clue how to "trace his origin."
Yaksha were born from dense elemental energy.
So was he.
Most places rich in pure elemental veins were like… well, wombs. Cradles.
Humans were born from their mother's body.
So if he wanted to return to his origin—
Maybe… he needed to bury himself in the ley line.
He scratched his head.
"…Eh. Let's try it."
He formed an ice pick and began digging down.
This time, no ancient elemental beast got hit by accident.
After digging for a while, he felt a pulse of Cryo energy stronger than anywhere else and stopped.
He closed his eyes and searched memory.
What was the first thing he remembered?
Darkness.
Weight pressing down on him.
He reached upward.
Something broke.
Cold wind rushed in.
Light pierced through snow.
He had been born buried.
He gazed upward through the shaft he'd dug and chuckled dryly.
"…Feels more like a funeral than a birth."
He punched the wall beside him.
Rocks collapsed, sealing him inside darkness once more.
He closed his eyes.
The Cryo energy around him embraced him like a familiar blanket.
His body loosened, spirit dissolving into the leylines.
His elemental energy flowed outward—
the leyline's flowed inward.
Purification.
The Cryo power that had absorbed impurities while he lived in the mortal world was returning to its purest form.
He could feel something—
his origin—
but it slipped between his fingers like mist.
He needed something else.
Something opposite.
Something that pushed against the Cryo vein at birth.
What was it?
Xue Kui frowned, then slowly relaxed.
The outside world continued as usual. Time passed.
The sun rose.
The moon fell.
The ice that had once been too dense and violent began to soften.
The leyline flowed smoother.
For the first time in ages, the peak became livable.
A lone crane beat its wings through the sky, drawn instinctively by the change.
Clear blue eyes reflected the shifting energy on the mountaintop.
Something called to it—cool, refreshing—
and then the sun's warmth lulled it.
The crane tucked its head under its wing and slept.
And slept.
And slept.
Days turned into a month.
Under the nourishment of Cryo-rich leylines, its body changed.
Instead of feeding, it absorbed energy from the environment.
Pure white feathers grew tinged with pale blue.
Suddenly—
CRACK
A shockwave blasted from underground.
The crane squawked and was lifted skyward, wings flailing.
Ice shards exploded upward, but none harmed it.
The peak was no longer flat.
A deep, bowl-shaped basin had formed.
At the center stood a white-haired youth, blinking up at the confused crane.
They stared at each other.
Blue gazes met.
Curiosity mirrored curiosity.
Then Xue Kui reached out lightning-fast, grabbed the crane by its long neck, and drooled.
"Hehe. Roast goose."
The crane shrieked in outrage and flapped wildly.
Advance Chapters available on Patreon
patreon.com/soulrequiem