High atop Self-Growing Earth Mountain.
Ancient trees stretched in an unbroken expanse, their thick roots breaking through the soil and intertwining, forcibly holding aloft a magnificent hall whose roof lay out of sight.
Mountain winds swept through the woods and battered the leaves, howling mournfully.
Deep within the hall, a silver-haired old woman sat cross-legged on a cushion woven from withered vines, her eyes closed.
The hidden injuries she had suffered fighting someone over the Parting Flame Golden Scabbard some days ago still required time and gentle nurturing to heal.
With each breath, the surrounding wood energy turned into wisps of green smoke, slipping through her nose and mouth into her hunched, shriveled body.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded from the long stairway outside the hall.
The steps were steady and unhurried, and even the faint crunch of boots treading fallen leaves carried into the hall.
The old woman opened her eyes, her cloudy, slit pupils staring through the doorway toward the end of the stairs.
There, within her view.
The visitor stepped over the towering threshold and entered the hall, looking around before her gaze finally settled on the cushion.
The old woman's brows immediately furrowed.
Counting the days, it had not even been half a month since she handed over the Parting Flame Golden Scabbard.
Why had this girl suddenly come back?
The old woman raised a hand and tucked the loose silver hair at her temples behind her ears, asking in a dry, hoarse voice.
"Why have you come back so soon?"
The girl in black stopped.
There were no pleasantries, nor any lengthy explanation. She merely brushed a trace of dust from her sleeve and raised her eyes to meet the old woman's gaze.
"I've entered the Chessmaster Realm."
Five words.
A plain statement.
The old woman froze,