Chapter Seven: Here Lies a Maiden Under the Blazing Sun

The fierce sunlight blazed like a raging fire, mercilessly scorching this nameless land. A gentle breeze swept by, bringing rolling waves of heat that surged over everything. The incessant chorus of cicadas, accompanied by the croaking of frogs, only served to make an already restless heart even more anxious.

Moments ago, the sky had been clear and blue, but now it was shrouded in dense clouds. With a sudden roar, countless raindrops as round and beautiful as pearls poured down in torrents, fierce and overwhelming. They battered the lotus leaves, making them sway and tear, struck the ground with a sharp, percussive sound that seemed as though it might bore through stone. Occasionally, deafening thunder and blinding lightning split the sky, but these were mere whispers compared to the downpour itself. The rain lashed, thunder crashed, and lightning danced with such wild abandon that one could not help but feel exhilarated. And so, clear skies gave way to clouds, torrential rain followed lightning, the searing heat of midsummer was soothed by fleeting coolness—a relentless, unending cycle.

Though the storm left everything battered and desolate, it had no effect whatsoever on the two figures strolling through the rain. Shields of true energy protected them, causing every drop of water to bounce away before it could draw near.

“This cursed place, coupled with this cursed weather, is a match made in hell!” Little Shadow grumbled, barely containing his anger. “I thought once we passed through that illusionary gate, we’d arrive directly at Nether City. Who could have guessed we’d end up in this wretched place instead? I wonder if that brat Cold Remembrance is toying with us on purpose!”

“Calm down. Haven’t you noticed how much your temperament has changed since you took on this form?” Feather Mourn replied, grinning slyly.

Little Shadow arched an eyebrow and asked smugly, “Changed how? Am I even more handsome now? Some people are just born with good looks; others can only look on in envy.”

“You’re becoming more and more nagging, more and more like a fussy woman! Just look at yourself, you’re the very picture of a little lady!” As Feather Mourn finished, he rolled his eyes at Little Shadow.

“You brat! If I don’t beat you until you’re picking your teeth off the ground, you can call me grandpa!” Little Shadow charged after Feather Mourn, his anger unrestrained. Though he chased and struck with all the ferocity of a woman scorned, to any bystander, it looked exactly like a wife bickering playfully with her husband.

“Who dares disturb the peace here and interrupt my cultivation?” A stunning woman, proud and striking, suddenly appeared before them, her posture exuding natural grace.

“This time it really is a girl!” Little Shadow muttered under his breath. Feather Mourn, hearing his whisper, burst into hearty laughter.

“What are you laughing at? Just who are you people? Why have you intruded here? State your purpose and leave at once, or don’t blame me for being unkind!” The woman gripped a crimson whip, poised to strike.

“We mean no harm, miss. We’re simply travelers who, due to a certain gentleman, were sent here by mistake. If you could kindly point us in the right direction, we’ll take our leave,” Feather Mourn said respectfully, his laughter fading.

“A gentleman? Who?” Her tone softened, though her pride did not diminish in the least.

“That scoundrel Cold Remembrance!” Little Shadow replied impatiently, as though the very name was a curse upon his lips.

“So it is him.” For a moment, tenderness touched the woman's face, but it was quickly replaced by her habitual pride. “It seems you wish to reach Nether City. Very well, defeat me and I’ll let you pass; lose, and you’ll be nothing more than souls sacrificed to my divine whip!” As she spoke, her eyes flashed with a killing intent at odds with her graceful bearing.

“You little vixen, always so quick to threaten and fight. Not a pleasant trait,” Little Shadow teased.

“I don’t care how others have tested you, or how you overcame those trials. Here, the rules are simple: strength alone matters! Only by defeating me do you earn the right to persuade me to open the illusionary gate,” she declared, chin held high, her tone laced with disdain.

“Enough talk. Prepare yourself!” Feather Mourn replied coldly, and in a flash, he darted toward her with the Windborne Step.

The woman advanced as well, chanting under her breath. The crimson whip in her hand suddenly glowed with fiery light; on closer inspection, tiny sparks danced along its length, eager to leap forth. Feather Mourn unleashed a wave of true energy, surging with the force of a dragon crossing the sea, twisting and whirling before shooting straight at her. She did not falter, flicking her whip; energy and fire clashed, sending shockwaves radiating outward. In that instant, Feather Mourn summoned the Shadow Blade and struck at her. Startled, she parried with her whip, but the more she resisted, the stronger the blade became—as if it were an endless abyss, absorbing the energy from her whip. That energy, in turn, flowed into Feather Mourn, vanishing at his heart’s gateway.

As defeat loomed, the woman smiled faintly and spat out a ray of red light toward Feather Mourn, who hastily raised his blade to block. Seizing the moment, she withdrew her whip and retreated to a safe distance.

“You really are cunning; I fell right into your trap,” Feather Mourn said calmly, though there was no trace of frustration or anger in his heart—instead, he found himself admiring her cunning.

“It was only a last resort for self-preservation, hardly cunning. If I truly meant to be devious, that red light would have been far more than a mere feint,” she replied with a slight smile.

“Pathetic. Looks like I’ll have to handle this myself!” Little Shadow, who had been watching from the sidelines, could wait no longer.

“Be careful. She’s not as simple as she seems. She must have more tricks up her sleeve—don’t underestimate her,” Feather Mourn warned him with a quiet transmission.

“Don’t worry, I know how to deal with her,” Little Shadow replied, uncharacteristically serious.

“Miss, you’re impressive—both in cultivation and cunning! To think you managed to best my brother. Not bad at all!” Little Shadow bantered with a carefree grin.

“Enough nonsense—make your move!” the woman replied, tension plain in her voice. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this seemingly naive and scatterbrained youth was hiding something, and dared not take him lightly. Or perhaps it was fate—perhaps he truly was her destined adversary. Who could say?