The wind stopped.
I was still gasping, my chest feeling as though a stone were crushing it, every breath painful. The spirit beast in my arms was no longer so cold. Its head rested against my chest, its breathing weak but steady. I could feel the runes on its horn still flashing, slowly, as if responding to something.
The barrier above us completely enveloped us. Its golden edge had faded, becoming an almost transparent membrane. It hung quietly in the air, neither trembling nor cracked. The storm had come fiercely and left strangely. Now, there was not even the faintest breeze. Flying stones remained suspended in midair, broken logs floated sideways, and even the dust no longer stirred.
I couldn't move.
My right arm was still numb, and the blow to my left shoulder had left my entire arm powerless. My legs were stiff, and I could feel nothing in the soles of my feet. I tried blinking, but my vision was blurry. Blood had run from the corner of my eye and dried, tugging at my skin. I exhaled a foul breath, confirming that I was still conscious.
The system interface appeared within my sea of consciousness.
Protection mechanism: "100% complete" "Passive defense protocol execution complete. Entering dormant protection mode."
The answer panel was gray and couldn't be opened. The Calming Pill icon had stopped flashing as well. The whole system seemed to have fallen asleep, without prompts or sound.
I closed my eyes and turned my attention back outside.
That silvery-white shadow to the southeast was still there.
It stood on the horizon, its outline clear, yet its face impossible to see. Its form resembled a colossal beast, all four limbs on the ground, its back towering high, silver light flowing over its entire body. That light was not dazzling, but it pierced through the gray-black sky, illuminating a faint vortex around it. It did not move or approach. It simply stood there, as if it had existed from the very beginning.
The spirit beast's ears twitched.
I gently placed my hand over its forehead again, and a trace of warmth touched my palm. Its horn trembled slightly, and the runes brightened. This time, they were not flashing chaotically, but pulsing in rhythm, as though transmitting a signal. I sent a thread of spiritual power into it, using the most basic Breath Transfer Technique, offering only warmth without any pressure.
A low growl rumbled from its throat, and its tail swayed lightly.
I knew it could hear me.
I also knew it wasn't in danger.
Otherwise, this shield would not have remained so steady until now.
I slowly raised my head and fixed my gaze on the shadow again. It was at least dozens of miles away, but in this strange frozen environment, distance might have already lost all meaning. I gathered my remaining spiritual sense and probed in that direction.
Nothing came back.
My spiritual sense seemed to strike an invisible wall. The instant it extended outward, it was rebounded. I did not force it, withdrawing my senses and leaning against the floating rock behind me. It was not large, but it was enough to block the lingering chill at my back. I adjusted my posture, trying to place my weight on the parts of my body that still worked.
I had to slow my breathing.
I remembered the Turtle Breath Absorption Technique the system had taught me early on. It was a mnemonic verse from one of the initial rewards, said to reduce consumption. That was exactly what I needed now. Bit by bit, I lowered my breathing rate. With every inhale, I circulated it through a small cycle within my body, distributing my remaining spiritual power evenly to the tips of my limbs.
My body temperature was still dropping.
But I could not move my muscles and bones too much anymore. That storm had nearly drained me dry, and any violent movement now could freeze my meridians. All I could do was wait—for this stillness to pass, for heaven and earth to begin moving again.
The spirit beast suddenly lifted its head.
Its horn lit up completely, silver light spreading from the runes across its body. It stared in that direction with focused eyes. It did not look afraid; instead, it seemed to recognize something. I followed its gaze and looked over again, only to find that the shadow's outline seemed to have changed.
Its head had lifted.
Its originally crouched form slowly straightened. Its forelimbs braced against the ground, its back arched, like a fierce beast about to rise. Silver light rippled with its movements, forming rings of waves around it. The floating rubble trembled slightly, and some pieces even began to rotate slowly.
I held my breath.
The shield did not react, which meant it had no hostile intent for now. The spirit beast did not warn me either. Instead, it lightly placed a forehoof on my wrist, as if telling me—don't be afraid.
But I still didn't dare relax.
This wasteland was too quiet, so quiet it didn't feel real. The sound of streams in the valley, vines swaying, the faint movement of spirit veins beneath the stone platform—all of it had been erased. Only the beast, that shadow in the distance, and I remained.
I remembered a reward description the system had once given me.
Back then, I had correctly answered a question about innate qi. The reward had been a fragmentary scroll that mentioned a kind of trace, saying that pure qi could condense into form and appear at certain times. I hadn't cared much then, thinking it was merely theoretical knowledge. Looking back now, its description was very similar to the thing before me.
Could it have come for this?
Or had it... been waiting for this storm to end all along?
I tried to bring up that memory in my sea of consciousness, but after the system entered dormancy, much of its data had been locked. I could only recall it by impression. The fragmentary scroll said that such traces of pure qi would not actively harm people, but wherever they appeared, they often caused disturbances on the level of rules.
Just like this stillness.
I looked down at the spirit beast. The light of its horn gradually stabilized, and the frequency of its runes matched the rhythm of the shield's previous fluctuations. There really was a connection between them. I just hadn't figured out what it was yet.
Time passed little by little.
I didn't know how long had passed—perhaps a quarter of an hour, perhaps longer. My body grew heavier and heavier, and my consciousness began to drift. I bit the tip of my tongue to keep myself awake. I couldn't sleep. Once I fell asleep, I might never wake again.
I tried the Turtle Breath Absorption Technique again.
This time, I concentrated my spiritual power in my chest and let it slowly spread to my limbs. At last, my fingertips regained a little sensation, and my toes could move slightly. I let out a breath of relief and continued maintaining that rhythm.
Just then, the shadow moved.
It did not walk or fly. Instead, it slowly lowered its head toward us. Silver light spread from where its eyes should have been, as if it were watching us. Then it gently raised a forelimb, its claws pointing toward the ground, making a gesture similar to a bow.
The spirit beast immediately responded.
It struggled, wanting to stand, but I did not release my grip. It turned back to look at me, its eyes clear and carrying an emotion I could not describe. I nodded and loosened my hold slightly. It slowly rose to its feet, its forehooves stepping against the inner wall of the shield, its horn light pointing straight at the other side.
The two rays of light met in the air.
There was no sound and no impact, but the surrounding air visibly trembled. The floating stones all shook, and dust began to fall slowly. I felt weight return to the ground beneath my feet, as if gravity were recovering.
The shield remained stable.
Supporting myself against the rock, I slowly pushed myself upright. My legs were still shaking, but I had to stand. If heaven and earth were about to restart, I could not remain lying down.
The spirit beast stood at the edge of the shield, its horn light still burning. The shadow remained in its bowed posture, silver radiance flowing around it, yet it made no further move. It seemed to have completed some ritual, or perhaps it was waiting for a response.
I reached out and grabbed the spirit beast by the nape.
It looked back at me, its gaze calm. I pulled it a little closer, letting it lean against me. Then I raised my head toward that direction and lightly cupped my hands in salute.
It was neither a bow nor a refusal.
It was simply a response.
At that instant, the distant horizon trembled slightly.
The shadow's body began to fade, its silver light receding layer by layer, as if something were drawing it away. Its outline grew faint, its movements stilled, and finally, it became a thin streak of light that vanished into the sky.
At the same time, the wind returned.
It was not a gale, but a light breeze blowing from the southeast, brushing across the wasteland and lifting a thin layer of dust. The floating stones fell one after another, broken logs crashing into the earth with dull thuds. The gray-black clouds began to move, and sunlight streamed through the gaps, shining over us.
The shield began to shrink.
It contracted from the edges toward the center, finally turning into a point of golden light that sank into my sea of consciousness. The system interface flashed, displaying a new message:
"Protection mechanism retrieved. Energy reserves depleted."
I stood still.
The spirit beast leaned against me, its body a little warmer now. The light on its horn had gone out, and its runes had returned to calm. I looked down at it, and it looked up at me, exhaling through its nostrils before rubbing against my hand.
I reached out and stroked its head.
In the distance, sunlight spread across the end of the wasteland.