She turned her attention toward Maryam, who was watching her with a calm gaze, clearly wondering why she had come.
"There's no need to worry, ma'am. I'm just a friend—I've simply come to visit my friend."
Maryam stared back, her expression filled with such profound disbelief and shock at what she was hearing that Jiya grew quite puzzled by her silence, which lasted for three full minutes.
Finally, in a tone laced with shock, Maryam asked, "Are you certain—or is there some mistake? You're a friend of my son, Bou-Talib?"
Jiya nodded in confirmation, though she looked on with a sense of confusion. Her gaze then shifted toward a young man who was just entering the house.
*So, this is him—the 'Great Outcast,' Bou-Talib,* she thought to herself, her tone calm. *He appears to be sixteen years old. That's strange; his power level is that of an ordinary human. How could he possibly be the 'Great Outcast' himself?*
Jiya continued to watch him with a skeptical eye. But then, recalling the timing of the voice recording—which would take place four years later—she realized she was in the past, long before his transformation into the 'Great Outcast' had begun.
She turned her attention back to Maryam, who had become lost in thought. Speaking in a gentle, composed voice, Jiya brought her back to the present:
"It seems he has returned from middle school."
Jiya's words flowed with such ease that she realized she was gradually gaining access to the memories of the 'Nameless' one. Though this information would have been useless in her own world, it proved valuable here—helping her avoid appearing as a liar.
Maryam stood up, a faint smile playing on her lips:
"Wait just a minute; I'll be right back. I'm going to get some coffee."
Jiya replied with a gentle smile of her own:
"Very well, as you wish, ma'am."
She watched as Maryam left the room immediately, not wasting a single second.
Just then, a girl hurried in, her quick, purposeful steps suggesting she was in a rush. Jiya, however, paid no mind to the reason; she simply closed her eyes for a few moments and rubbed her forehead—a gesture that had, annoyingly, become a habit.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a kitchen, appearing as a mere specter. She was puzzled for a moment before recalling that she was navigating the memories of someone whose name she didn't even know—and naturally, she would follow him wherever he went.
This also explained why she had materialized near his home rather than on the bus where he actually was. She quickly reconsidered, realizing that suddenly appearing on a bus packed entirely with male students would be an exceptionally poor—and deeply embarrassing—idea for both of them.
She turned her attention toward him—Bou-Taleb—as his mother asked him about her, while his sister looked on, completely stunned.
"Wait, hold on! A girl? Are you kidding me, or what?" "I don't know any girl who fits that description—what the hell! Stop with the silly jokes; I'm being serious. I don't know any girl like that!"
Boutaleb's tone carried a hint of irritation at his mother's relentless questioning.
He shifted his gaze toward his sister, who wore a mischievous smile—one that prompted an openly annoyed look from him.
"Come on! There's no way someone could get a photo of you like that. Besides, you never post anything about yourself on Facebook or any other social media platform, which pretty much confirms that *you* were the one who sent her the picture. Just admit it!"
Boutaleb didn't say a word, but his tense smile confirmed their suspicions: he *did* know her. It also revealed something new to Jiya—he was the type to get flustered easily.
He stood up and headed toward her, his voice laced with clear annoyance and tension:
"Fine, I'm going to talk to her. And I don't want any... well, you know what I mean, right?"
As he took a deep breath and walked toward the guest room, he muttered to himself—words that Jiya was able to hear:
"Who is she? And how did she get a photo of me? I don't recall ever talking to any girl—or anyone at all, for that matter. I barely ever use Facebook, except to watch short videos or check in with my friends. I definitely don't remember ever speaking to a girl. My luck with things like this is just terrible." He entered the guest room, prompting Jiya to open her eyes just moments before his arrival. She observed him with a calm, yet puzzled, gaze; his appearance was entirely ordinary, devoid of any striking features.
He had coarse, curly black hair and dark brown eyes. Circular burn marks marred his neck and shoulder, and a single gray hair rested on his left cheek—a detail that, combined with the swift, instinctive way he rose and placed his phone on his dominant side, revealed him to be left-handed.
He sat down opposite her, his expression betraying a tension that was clear to her—and would have been obvious to anyone else, too. Yet, she noticed this tension gradually fading, and as it did, his very form began to shift.
He transformed into a young woman, possessing a level of beauty comparable to that of Boutaleb.
There were subtle differences, however: her right eye was gray, and some strands of her hair were a stark, pure white.
Speaking in a calm tone, she cracked her knuckles, a faint smile playing on her lips:
"I am nameless. A pleasure to meet you, Lady Jiya. How have you been, my little 'shard'? It has been a long time—over 70,000 years—since you became a fragment of the 'Great Outcast's' path of the Sovereign."
"But that matters little. What truly matters is that you are finally free from a state of dependency that has lasted an eternity—far longer than 500 trillion years, spanning countless ages."
Jiya did not utter a single word, yet the conviction that she would uncover the full, unvarnished truth at the Summer Festival grew stronger than ever. She spoke while glancing toward a teacup nearby, then shifted her gaze back to "Nameless":
"So, you are not the 'Great Outcast.' Who are you, then—this queen of the realm of the 'Great Outcast' and the 'Palace of Everything'?"
Nameless remained silent for several seconds—an interval that felt like full minutes to Jia—before finally speaking as she set the cup back onto the table:
"In a sense, yes. The 'Great Outcast' is one entity, and I am another—or, to put it more accurately, it is much like your own relationship to a fragment of the 'Great Outcast' associated with the 'Ruler' path. Regardless, do not concern yourself too much with it."
"Yuto will tell you everything you need to know, right as it becomes relevant. It might seem like a lot, but it's information you'll need to have. Once that's settled, you'll need to break through to the 'Boundless' rank to unlock your wings; after that, you'll be able to evolve almost entirely on your own."
Jia let out a deep sigh as she listened, then took a sip from the teacup beside her, a faint smile playing on her lips.
In a calm, steady tone—her gaze fixed on the cup in her hands—she spoke:
"In a few days, I suppose I might feel like a fool for being nothing more than a fragment of another being. Yet, after pondering it all day—and wrestling with an endless stream of questions—I've come to a vital realization: I will endure the hardships of life, regardless of my origins. What matters is who *I* choose to become. I am a part of you, but I am not *you*."
"I can be whatever I wish to be. After all, some parts of my being may perish sooner than others, while other parts might outlive everyone else. Life or death—it makes no difference to me. What truly matters is how I choose to live."
'Nameless' watched her, her expression reflecting genuine admiration for the girl's perseverance, resolve, and maturity—a capacity to bear a shocking truth that would have left even the most powerful entities in a state of utter despair.
With that, 'Nameless' produced a small disc. Depicted on it was a woman bound in chains from head to toe, accompanied by a label that read: "Nameless." She handed it to Jia, who was taken aback—a feeling only deepened by the words that followed from "Nameless":
"Jia, listen to me carefully. This manuscript will help you truly understand your 'Wing.' It is unique—the only one of its kind among the 25 existing paths—unlike the other 14 fragments, of which there are 27 copies each."
Jia tucked the manuscript away into her own dimensional space, glancing at Nameless. Nameless returned the look with a faint, yet slightly enigmatic, smile.
Jia sensed no danger; after all, if Nameless had wanted to kill her, she could have done so with ease. There was no one who could stop her—a terrifying thought, perhaps, but an undeniable truth. Nameless was the second most powerful entity, surpassed only by the "Great Outcast," and standing above all the Amun, the 12 Narratives, and the Absolute Guardian.
Jia didn't need to search for this knowledge; she felt it deep within her very being. The gap between her and Nameless was as vast as the distance between the seventh earth and the seventh heaven.
She took a sip of her coffee, only to find it prepared exactly to her liking. She glanced at Nameless—who also preferred her coffee sweet—and then at Bou-Taleb, who had added four spoonfuls of sugar to his own.
Setting her cup back down, Jia asked, her tone sharp with inquiry, "Can you tell me why I'm unable to access the journals to read them?"
Nameless offered no reply. Realizing that no answers were forthcoming, Jia felt a surge of frustration; the questions kept mounting, yet clear answers remained nowhere to be found. Even after obtaining some answers, several questions remained unresolved—so many, in fact, that she found herself looking toward the "Nameless One" once again.
The other woman sighed, set her cup down on the table, and spoke in a calm, measured tone:
"I know your mind—and the reader's—is filled with questions. But every question has an answer, even if it takes hundreds of chapters to reach it. Some questions simply require the right moment to be answered; revealing everything too quickly would be hollow."
"Providing an unsatisfactory answer would be trivial—and, in truth, questions were never meant to be 'satisfying' in the first place. You simply need patience. Jiya, there are many such questions; yet, even when a secret is finally unveiled, it will pertain only to *The Dragon Angel in a World of Fantasy*—the story you currently inhabit—and not to *I Am Inside My Novel* or *I Am the Great Outcast*."
"You must always remain patient. You are not the only one seeking answers about everything unfolding in this world, but you are the one who will be most profoundly affected when those answers concern you personally. After all, the discovery of an answer often serves only to shift your entire perspective on an event from the past." Jia did not say a single word—not because she lacked questions or anything to say, but as she looked at her, a notification appeared before her eyes once more:
She turned her gaze back to the Nameless One, who watched her with a calm expression. As the world around them began to shift once again, Jia offered a faint, gentle smile.
Rising from her seat—prompting the Nameless One to stand as well—Jia spoke in a quiet, composed tone:
"Thank you, Nameless One. I hope we meet again."
The Nameless One replied with words that brought a sense of comfort to Jia:
"Do not worry; we shall meet again—though next time, it will be in my capacity as the proctor for your 'Wing' acquisition examination."
The world began to revert to its original form—a beautiful garden within her own spiritual realm. Jia summoned her inventory menu, discovering several items in addition to the scroll left by the Nameless One:
[25x Legendary-Rank Energy Recovery Potion
12x Legendary-Rank Refinement Pill
10x Legendary-Rank Healing Potion
13x Rank 9 Gu-Forging Scroll
3x Rank 9 Enslavement Gu
14x Legendary-Rank "100-Move Shun-Kung Arts" Manual
First Creator's Phone (Rank: ????)
"Nameless One's Wing" Training Scroll (Rank: ????)
5x Fantasy World Demon Gem (Rank: ????)] [Stolen Robe of Empress Xiao Yi – Rank: ???]
Jia kept her gaze fixed on two new items; however, she decided to leave them be for the time being—she had no immediate need for either of them.
Closing the system interface, she continued to wander through her spiritual realm, contemplating her current and future course of action. She had five full months to grow stronger, yet she was certain she wouldn't reach the Boundless rank during the break before the academy term—especially since it hadn't been long since she had broken through to the Sovereign Master rank.
She needed to calm her chaotic energy—a necessity that applied equally to her exhausted body. Her energy was in disarray and required time to stabilize; the same held true for her mind. While physical fatigue can be remedied through rest or sleep, the mind demands tranquility and an end to excessive, restless thinking.
She decided to use this period for self-improvement, reflecting on everything that had transpired over the past few months and contemplating what might lie ahead. The Celestial Academy for Immortals would exist in a realm entirely unfamiliar to her, governed by completely different laws; she needed to prepare herself—mentally and psychologically, even before focusing on the physical.
Whatever she might encounter—be it good or bad—she would have to face it. The most important principle to live by was to always look ahead, to weigh potential gains against losses, and to discern when to fight and when to retreat.
A true warrior is not one who is always fighting, but one who knows when to initiate a battle and when to avoid one.
"The weather is absolutely beautiful today—perfect for a stroll. I feel such a profound sense of happiness and ease that I wish I could stay here for a long time. I wonder if I've become lazy, but honestly, it's wonderful; laziness becomes a true treasure for those who usually work without pause."
"Constant, excessive work was only wearing me down rather than helping me grow. I need to strike a balance—integrating training and combat with the rhythms of daily life and the simple joy of living. Peace, no matter how long it lasts, is always fleeting, while war—even when its events are brief—feels long. Yet, the two are inextricably linked; there can be no peace without war, and no war that was not preceded by peace." Jia's tone was calm as she gazed up at the sky, lying upon the pristine green grass.
She rose and checked the time on her phone—23:45. She realized that only two days remained until the start of the Summer Festival, with the main event itself three days away.
Yet, she didn't dwell on it; the timeline wouldn't change anything, and worrying would only leave her needlessly tense and exhausted. She opened a portal leading directly to her room to get some rest.
Stepping inside with a faint smile, she climbed into bed—an expression of pure relief still lingering on her face. She remained entirely unaware of the reverent gaze of the "Majestic Blessing of the Skies of Islabith," an entity watching her—and her very existence—with quiet, solemn attention.
The entity approached, offered a small smile, and gently kissed Jia's forehead. It then placed a message into her personal resource inventory before vanishing, as if it had never been there at all.
Jia, meanwhile, sank into a deep, exhaustion-induced slumber. She had activated the ability—*Memories of the Queen of the World (from "I am the Great Outcast")* and *Palace of Everything Nameless: Level I*—on the very same day she had acquired them; she hadn't even checked her synchronization rate.
Life is both beautiful and ugly, and Jia found herself compelled to exist within that duality. Like any being—past, present, or future—she had to accept this existential absurdity. For this is a world defined by both joy and misery: a place where some find happiness and abundance, while others endure poverty, hunger, and the scarcity of all things. Of all the 365 days and 12 months in her world's calendar, this was the day she felt the most happiness and inner peace. She had come to accept the reality of the world—and of herself—rather than trying to change things; after all, not every change is for the best.
Jia spent the rest of the night in great comfort, a warm smile gracing her face—a smile that radiated happiness to everyone who saw her.
As time flowed onward, weaving through the intricate threads of fate, the week drew to a close. It was Sunday, the 19th of July, year 675—the penultimate day before the festival began.
Jia opened her eyes at 5:00 AM, just as she always did, full of joy and energy. She began her morning exercises, but that was only the start.
She decided to spend the next two days wandering through the city of Berhais before the Summer Festival commenced. Her sudden change in behavior left the servants bewildered, yet she paid their curious glances no mind.
She was determined to enjoy herself to the fullest before the Summer Festival—a festival that, on its third day, would reveal secrets she had previously known nothing about.
As for meditation, she hadn't abandoned it entirely; she kept up her practice—two hours in the morning, five hours in the afternoon (from 1:00 PM to 5:00 PM), and another hour in the evening (from 10:00 PM to 11:00 PM). This was her routine for the 19th and 20th.
And then, the moment she had been waiting for finally arrived. Only a few hours remained until the start of the Summer Festival. Yet, she felt no concern—not even at the arrival of unexpected guests: the Venerable Lotus Blossom Jihao Yuxuan, the Star-Hunting Venerable Zendaya, the Last Patch Venerable Ping Tao Xin, the Heavenly Sword Emperor Yuchira Eskanora, and the Black and White Scorpion.
It mattered little to her; even if she had known, these individuals were Yuta's enemies, not her own—and should any of them happen to be her own adversaries, well, fighting them would simply be the logical course of action.
She cast her gaze toward the crimson moon, which was gradually fading back to its natural gray—a shift that had begun days earlier, following the breaking of the seal placed upon the Supreme Ruler of Destruction, Higurashi.
Watching the beautiful moon—which mirrored the hue of her own light-crimson eyes—she spoke in a calm, expectant tone:
"The truth will soon be revealed; I have waited specifically for this anticipated event. Two days is not a long time to wait—it serves, in fact, as a period of mental preparation for what truly lies ahead for me."
With that, she drew the curtains and headed to her bed to rest, preparing for whatever tomorrow might bring—be it something beautiful, or something ugly.