System Aids Defense, Passing Through Unscathed

The wind stopped.

I was still panting, my chest feeling like it was pressed down by a stone, each breath bringing pain. The spirit beast in my arms was no longer as cold; its head rested against my chest, its breathing faint but steady. I could feel the runes on its horns still glowing, their frequency slow, as if responding to something.

The light shield above us completely enveloped us. The golden trim had faded, turning into a nearly transparent membrane. It hovered silently in the air, without vibration or cracks. The storm that had just raged had come fiercely and left strangely. Now, not even a wisp of wind remained. Flying stones hung in mid-air, broken logs floated horizontally, and even dust no longer stirred.

I couldn't move.

My right arm was still numb, and the impact on my left shoulder had rendered my entire arm useless. My legs were stiff, and I couldn't feel anything from my feet. I tried to blink, my vision a little blurry, blood trickling from the corner of my eye, pulling at my skin as it dried. I exhaled a breath of turbid air, confirming I was still conscious.

The system interface appeared in my sea of consciousness.

The defense mechanism displayed "100% complete," with a line of small text below: "Passive defense protocol executed, entering hibernation protection state." The quiz panel was grayed out and unclickable. The Calming Pill icon was no longer flashing. The entire system seemed to be asleep, with no prompts or sounds.

I closed my eyes and shifted my attention back outside.

The silver-white shadow in the southeast was still there.

It stood on the horizon, its outline clear, but its face indistinguishable. Its form resembled a colossal beast, with four limbs on the ground, a towering back, and silver light flowing all over its body. The light wasn't blinding but could penetrate the dark gray sky, illuminating a faint aura of swirling energy around it. It didn't move, nor did it approach, just stood there, as if it had existed from the beginning.

The spirit beast's ears twitched.

I gently placed my hand back on its forehead, feeling a slight warmth in my palm. Its horns trembled slightly, and the runes brightened again, this time not flashing randomly but pulsing rhythmically, as if transmitting a signal. I sent a wisp of spiritual power into it, using the most basic Breath Transfer Technique, only conveying warmth, without any pressure.

It let out a low hum from its throat and its tail gave a slight swish.

I knew it could hear me.

I also knew it was not in danger.

Otherwise, this shield wouldn't have held up until now.

I slowly raised my head, fixing my gaze on the shadow again. It was at least dozens of miles away, but in this eerie stillness, distance might have lost its meaning. I mobilized my remaining spiritual sense and probed in that direction.

Nothing returned.

My spiritual sense felt like it had hit an invisible wall, bouncing back as soon as it extended. I didn't force it, withdrew my perception, and leaned against a suspended rock behind me. It wasn't large, just enough to block the residual chill from behind. I adjusted my posture, trying to shift my center of gravity onto the parts of my body that still worked.

My breathing had to slow down.

I remembered the Turtle Breath Absorption Technique the system had taught me early on. It was part of the initial rewards, a set of incantations said to reduce consumption. This was exactly what I needed now. I gradually lowered my breathing frequency, and with each inhale, I circulated the remaining spiritual power through a small Heavenly Cycle within my body, distributing it evenly to the extremities.

My body temperature continued to drop.

But I couldn't afford to strain my major joints anymore. The recent storm had almost drained me; any strenuous movement now could freeze my meridians. I could only wait, wait for this stillness to pass, wait for the world to start moving again.

The spirit beast suddenly raised its head.

Its horns lit up completely, silver light spreading along the runes to its entire body. It stared in that direction, its gaze focused, not with fear, but as if it recognized something. Following its line of sight, I noticed that the silhouette of the shadow seemed to have changed.

Its head lifted.

Its previously lowered posture slowly straightened, its forelimbs braced on the ground, its back arched, like a beast about to rise. The silver light rippled with its movement, forming concentric circles around it. The floating debris trembled slightly, some even beginning to rotate slowly.

I held my breath.

The shield showed no reaction, indicating it posed no immediate threat. The spirit beast also gave no warning; instead, it gently placed its front hoof on my wrist, as if telling me—don't be afraid.

But I still couldn't relax.

This wasteland was too quiet, too unnaturally quiet. The sound of the stream in the valley, the rustling of vines, the subtle hum of the spirit veins beneath the stone platform—all had been erased. Here, only it and I remained, along with the distant shadow.

I recalled a reward description the system had once given me.

I had answered a question about innate qi correctly, and the reward was a fragmented scroll that mentioned a type of trace, said to be condensed pure qi that would appear at specific moments. I hadn't paid much attention then, thinking it was just theoretical knowledge. Now, it seemed very similar to what I was seeing.

Could it be here for this?

Or perhaps... it had been waiting for this storm to end?

I tried to recall that passage in my sea of consciousness, but many data were locked after the system went into hibernation. I could only rely on my memory. The fragmented scroll said that such traces of pure qi would not actively harm people, but where they appeared, they often caused disturbances at the rule level.

Just like the current stillness.

I looked down at the spirit beast. The light from its horns gradually stabilized, the rune frequency matching the rhythm of the shield's earlier fluctuations. There was indeed a connection between them, though I couldn't figure out what it was yet.

Time passed little by little.

I didn't know how long it had been, perhaps a quarter of an hour, perhaps longer. My body grew heavier, and my consciousness began to drift. I bit the tip of my tongue to stay awake. I couldn't fall asleep; if I did, I might never wake up.

I tried the Turtle Breath technique again.

This time, I concentrated my spiritual power in my chest, letting it slowly spread to my limbs. My fingertips finally regained some sensation, and my toes could move slightly. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued to maintain this rhythm.

Just then, the shadow moved.

It didn't walk or fly, but slowly lowered its head, facing our direction. Silver light emanated from where its eyes would be, as if it were watching. Then, it gently lifted its forelimbs, its claws pointing towards the ground, making a gesture akin to a bow.

The spirit beast responded immediately.

It struggled, wanting to stand up, but I didn't release my grip. It looked back at me, its eyes clear, carrying an emotion I couldn't quite describe. I nodded and slightly loosened my hold. It slowly stood up, its front hooves resting on the inner wall of the shield, its horns pointing directly at the other.

The two beams of light met in the air.

There was no sound or impact, but the surrounding air visibly vibrated. The floating debris shook in unison, and dust began to slowly settle. I felt a sense of weight returning to the ground beneath my feet, as if gravity was being restored.

The shield remained stable.

Leaning on the rock, I pushed myself up little by little. My legs were still trembling, but I had to stand. If the world was about to restart, I couldn't be lying down.

The spirit beast stood at the edge of the shield, its horns still glowing. The shadow remained in a bowed posture, silver light flowing around it, but it made no further moves. It was as if it had completed some ritual, or perhaps it was waiting for a response.

I reached out and grabbed the spirit beast by the scruff of its neck.

It looked back at me, its eyes calm. I pulled it back a little, letting it lean against me. Then I raised my head, facing that direction, and lightly cupped my fist.

It wasn't quite a bow, nor was it a refusal.

It was simply a response.

At that very instant, the distant horizon trembled slightly.

The shadow's body began to fade, its silver light receding layer by layer, as if being reabsorbed. Its outline blurred, its movements froze, and finally, it transformed into a thin streak of light that vanished into the sky.

At the same time, the wind returned.

Not a gale, but a gentle breeze, blowing from the southeast, sweeping across the wasteland and kicking up a thin layer of dust. The suspended debris fell to the ground, and broken branches slammed into the earth with dull thuds. The gray-black clouds in the sky began to move, and sunlight streamed through the gaps, illuminating us.

The shield began to retract.

It converged from the edges toward the center, finally condensing into a point of golden light that sank into my spiritual sense. The system interface flashed, displaying a new message: "Defense mechanism has been recalled, energy reserves at zero."

I stood still.

The spirit beast leaned against me, its body feeling a little warmer. The glow from its horns had extinguished, and the runes returned to their calm state. I looked down at it, and it looked up at me, exhaling a puff of air from its nostrils and nuzzling my hand.

I reached out and stroked its head.

In the distance, at the end of the wasteland, sunlight lay spread across the ground.