For some reason, Xu Xiaoyou felt an inexplicable resistance and withdrew her gaze from the girl collection.
They followed Mr. Screws deeper, seeing temples supported by Roman columns; ghostly ships from ocean myths; primeval jungles where ambush bees and ancient viruses lurked; and lost ancient kingdoms.
They saw many prehistoric creatures that should have been long extinct or were rarely recorded even in myths: ice layers beneath thick frost where a tyrant dragon bit through the armor of a mountain-shaking turtle, tall behemoth elephants roaring to the heavens, and Vulcan pterosaurs tangling in combat, setting the clouds ablaze.
Everything reminded them of the vastness of the world, and that they were but tiny specks of dust within it.
From a macro perspective, the vault was boundlessly large, perhaps exceeding the area of Asgard itself. This wasn't surprising; Xu Xiaoyou knew it was the result of the space collapse protocol.
The corridor they walked was thousands of kilometers long in macro-view, but under the space collapse protocol, they were moving forward at several kilometers per second. As the subjects of this experience, they were completely unaware of the spatial distortion.
As for the "icebergs" storing the collections, they weren't common ice but a synthetic gel with mysterious properties.
This gel could significantly reduce the mystical and physiological activity of the items, freezing their state forever at the moment they were collected. It only mimicked the physical traits of ice, emitting cold air and appearing as a translucent ice-blue.
Most items were too shocking for words, and what was described was but the tip of the iceberg. They were the trophies of powerful fixers in history, stored beneath the safest bank in the world.
Beyond the black dragon skeleton, the deeper they went, the more spectacular and dangerous the items became, possessing higher value. Mr. Screws showed no sign of stopping even as they neared the end of the underground vault.
The two girls couldn't help but wonder what surprise Sebas had left for them.
The deeper they went, the more Akabane felt a nameless unease. Her cells urged her to turn and leave immediately.
Shadows in the air twisted into text, lining up word by word. Whispers began to drone in her ears.
— "Leave. Your shoulders cannot bear this responsibility."
Suddenly, Akabane heard these words.
She turned, but there was nothing behind her.
Xu Xiaoyou noticed her odd behavior but said nothing, only taking the girl's hand to provide warmth.
Moving forward, the text formed from shadows proliferated rapidly, turning into tentacles that squirmed along the floor, walls, and ceiling, extending to the end of the tunnel. The thick, stagnant air formed layers of airtight dark walls, pressing against Akabane to block her way.
"Leave. Your naive cowardice cannot bear this weight. You are still too immature. You will fail everyone's expectations and mourn upon the bones of countless people."
The whispers grew louder, and the text in the shadows began to crumble.
Akabane felt an urge to flee. Past memories rushed to the surface of her mind, countless fragments piecing together unfamiliar scenes. A drop of blood fell on a corner of the image, staining it bright red.
She saw...
In a white space, blurred strangers circled her, sighing and shaking their heads heavily.
Family members who once gave her warmth and care cursed her as a scourge with faces full of resentment.
The last light in a dying man's eyes flickered out—his hope for her future.
Akabane's chest heaved violently, and her eyes trembled.
She didn't remember these things.
These weren't her memories.
They shouldn't be her memories...
"You will walk alone on a thorn-poisoned path!!"
The shadow text was followed by blood-red exclamation marks, surrounding her completely. The dark whispers screamed!
Her chaotic consciousness inevitably began to sink. The girl fell endlessly into eternal darkness. Everything was like shattered glass in a nightmare. A nightmare monster loomed above, spinning silk and humming. All the images that terrified her cycled through the mirrors. Flames from the bottom scorched her body, and billowing ash blurred her vision.
In the darkness, a hand reached out, tearing through the layers of blockades and pulling them apart. A cool yet warm softness touched her cheek.
"We're here," Xu Xiaoyou said.
All the writhing shadows receded, and the passage returned to silence. At the end stood a massive door made of dragon-steel copper.
As the door opened, an indescribable weightiness hit them like a wave of heat. A heavy burden suddenly settled on their shoulders.
Before them, a long blade was thrust into the ground. It was shaped like a sweet-flag leaf, with no ornate patterns.
A plain black flowed between the cracks, and the scabbard looked like a simply processed piece of ebony.
"This is..."
Akabane's eyes widened. Her blood surged, and her heart began to race uncontrollably.
She recognized this blade.
In textbooks, in tutors' lessons, and in the countless epics praising the girl.
"Crimson Cloud," Mr. Screws said the artifact's name calmly.
In legend, the Scarlet Dancer had used this very blade to decapitate the Eight-Spider Hive Mother.
She suddenly realized...
This might not just be Sebas's expectation for her.
As soon as Xu Xiaoyou took a step toward the room, the blade stuck in the ground let out a light chime, like the sound of a flute made from a sweet-flag leaf. An invisible blade-wind surged out.
In an instant, countless fine slash marks appeared on the surrounding walls, and a shallow cut appeared on her neck.
Xu Xiaoyou touched her neck, her gaze lingering on the smear of red on her fingertip.
No wonder Sebas had repeatedly emphasized that she must bring the little family head to the Northern Bank to collect the reward. Anyone not recognized by this blade couldn't take a single step into the room.
It seemed Crimson Cloud was meant for the little family head. As for her own reward, it was something else.
At the same time, a ripple formed in Xu Xiaoyou's heart.
Weapons were created for people and used by people, yet one had to seek the weapon's recognition. How ridiculous.
As long as the master was strong enough and their will firm enough, why care if the weapon recognized them?
Guided by a voice in her heart, Akabane unconsciously walked into the room. The blade-wind surged again, and a bloody gash suddenly erupted on her arm. The blood was instantly shredded by the wind.
This was just a warning.
Akabane took a second step. Two more gashes opened on her calves. Feeling the pain, the girl's face turned pale. She bit her lip hard, her brows furrowing. Strange emotions swirled in her heart.
The obstacles she had faced earlier turned into resentment and stubbornness. She finally understood what the wave of heat was: it was the mission she had to bear.
The voice in her heart grew loud enough to make the choice for her. At this moment, only one naive thought remained: she would pull out the sword in the stone, just like the heroes from the ballads!
Akabane took a third step.
The girl closed her eyes tight in fear, silently scolding herself and regretting her impulsive, childish decision.
Yet, the blade-wind that should have severed her palm never came.
Her eyelids fluttered open. A low humming came from Crimson Cloud—no longer crisp, but sounding like a long sigh from an elder.
Fine cracks quietly spread across the blade of Crimson Cloud.
Before the girl's trembling eyes, that legendary weapon...
Disintegrated into countless shards, scattering all over the floor.
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