ARK SPIRIT

Hao Nhien led Quan Nha along the narrow fissure and back to the small cave where he had previously secluded himself to study the Gray Shadow Wolf King’s beast core.

The entrance was hidden behind a curtain of gray vines, with several large rocks blocking the view from outside. Anyone passing by without deliberately searching would have had difficulty noticing that there was enough space within for several people to shelter.

He paused outside the cave but did not summon the Cosmic Ark. Even though the person beside him was Quan Nha, this secret was still not something he could reveal. It was not that he distrusted her. Some secrets were dangerous enough that merely knowing them could drag a person into trouble.

Using the Tieu Dao Sword, he swept aside dead leaves and loose stones, then shifted several larger rocks to cover part of the entrance. He did not seal it completely, leaving a few narrow gaps for air and a little moonlight to pass through.

The cave soon darkened. The rocks muffled most of the wind outside, leaving only a soft whisper drifting through the entrance. The scent of damp earth and cold stone mixed with the night mist, deepening the silence within.

Quan Nha sat on a flat patch of ground near the center of the cave.

The Python King’s beast core rested in her palm, faint dark purple light turning beneath its translucent surface. Under that glow, the cool expression on her face became even harder to read.

Hao Nhien settled about three steps away. It was far enough not to disturb her, but close enough for him to react if anything went wrong.

He laid the Tieu Dao Sword across his knees. True qi circulated steadily through his meridians while his attention remained fixed on her and the beast core in her hand.

“Sister Quan Nha.”

She looked over.

“I’ll say this one more time. If your spiritual awareness feels like it can’t endure any further, withdraw at once. Don’t get greedy for a little more insight. The beast core will still be here. You can always try again later.”

Quan Nha gave a small nod. Her fingertips were tense around the core, but her gaze remained steady.

“I know.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

The cave fell quiet except for the sound of the wind.

Hao Nhien did not know what method she was using to make contact with the beast core. He only saw her body jerk after several breaths.

His hand tightened on his knee, but he said nothing.

Before long, sweat began to form on her forehead. Her brows drew together, the healthy color in her face faded into pallor, and the fingers holding the beast core began to tremble.

He had experienced something similar himself. A Beast King core contained more than spiritual qi and traces of innate talent. Remnants of Divine Soul imprints, ferocity, killing intent, and shattered fragments of sensation could all rebound through the connection and affect the person probing it.

But he had no way of knowing what Quan Nha was seeing, and he could not interfere recklessly.

A thin purple glow appeared over the surface of the beast core. It did not spread far beyond the core itself, but as the light reflected across her wrist and face, it created an eerie, difficult-to-describe atmosphere.

Her breathing began to lose its rhythm.

Hao Nhien leaned forward.

“Sister Quan Nha?”

There was no response. Her lashes trembled violently, and though her eyes remained closed, they moved rapidly beneath her lids, as if she were being dragged through a succession of changing scenes.

He watched for a while, unease settling in his chest.

A possibility crossed his mind. She might have been pulled into some kind of illusion, but he could not be certain. If so, forcing her awake now might be even more dangerous. If her spiritual awareness had already sunk too deeply, abruptly severing the connection could trigger a backlash against her Divine Soul.

Having personally touched the imprints within the Gray Shadow Wolf King’s core, Hao Nhien knew such a backlash was nothing to take lightly.

So he forced himself to remain still.

Time passed.

The sweat on Quan Nha’s forehead continued to gather, but after a long while, the trembling of her body began to ease. Her pale complexion gradually recovered as well.

Hao Nhien had just started to relax when he noticed something strange.

A faint smile appeared on her face.

He had seen Quan Nha smile before, but this was different. It lacked her usual coolness, and it was not the resigned expression she sometimes wore when he annoyed her. This smile was softer and quieter, gentle enough that he found himself watching for another moment.

His heart skipped a beat.

Only once, but that was enough to put him on guard.

He pulled his gaze away.

Something was wrong.

This did not look like a normal reaction to comprehending an innate talent.

Hao Nhien circulated the Soul Art to steady his mind while examining the beast core more carefully. The dark purple light within it had changed. Its cold quality remained, but another fluctuation seemed to have mixed into it, softer and more elusive, something that made it unexpectedly difficult to look away.

“Charm affinity?”

The thought sharpened his vigilance.

At that moment, Quan Nha’s expression changed again. A faint blush spread across her cheeks, her breathing grew faster, and her brows drew together as though she were being swept into an emotion too powerful to control.

He waited several more breaths.

She did not improve.

At last, he moved closer.

“Sister Quan Nha.”

Still no response.

Hao Nhien had just reached out to check her condition when her eyes opened.

He looked straight into them.

Not out of carelessness. In that instant, he thought something had gone wrong with her Divine Soul, and his first instinct was simply to confirm whether she was still conscious.

The moment their eyes met, he knew he had made a mistake.

A faint ring of purple light turned within Quan Nha’s eyes. It was not bright. If he had not been looking directly at her, he might not even have noticed it.

Yet in a single instant, his mind shook violently.

The Soul Art had only just begun to circulate and had not fully stabilized when his consciousness felt as though it had been caught by an invisible current and dragged downward.

The cave vanished.

The sound of the wind disappeared.

Even the cold stone beneath him faded away.

When Hao Nhien opened his eyes again, he was standing in a garden.

Warm sunlight lay across green grass. A lake in the distance was still as a mirror. A gentle breeze carried the scent of flowers, and white petals drifted onto the water, spreading rings of ripples across its surface.

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Everything was so peaceful that for a brief moment, he forgot he had just been sitting inside a cave in the secret realm.

He walked forward, each step feeling completely natural.

A figure appeared by the lake.

Quan Nha.

She was still herself, but much of her usual coldness had faded. Her long hair moved in the breeze, and the tenderness in her gaze felt strangely familiar in a way Hao Nhien could not explain.

“Hao Nhien.”

Her voice seemed to come from far away.

She extended a hand.

He looked at it.

A vague thought warned him that something was wrong, but the warning was too faint.

The garden felt too real.

The wind felt too real.

Even the warmth of sunlight against his skin felt real.

He stepped forward and took her hand.

The moment their fingers touched, warmth spread up his arm, dissolving nearly all the caution that remained in his heart.

Quan Nha moved one step closer.

The distance between them narrowed.

He did not retreat. He could not even remember why he should.

In this world, everything that had once seemed complicated suddenly became simple. There were no enemies, no uncertain future, no secrets that had to remain unspoken.

Standing here was enough.

Just as that feeling was about to swallow him completely, something deep within his Sea of Consciousness trembled.

Very faintly.

The embryonic cycle within his Divine Soul began to circulate on instinct.

It could not break the illusion, but it was enough to create a crack.

Hao Nhien sensed something was wrong. As his awareness cleared, the scene before him grew unstable and the images throughout the garden began to tremble.

Before he could act, Quan Nha tightened her grip on his hand. Panic flashed through her eyes.

For the first time since entering the illusion, he felt that the expression did not belong to the false world around them.

“Quan Nha?”

She looked at him, her lips moving.

No sound came out.

But her grip tightened.

Hao Nhien understood.

She was not fully in control of this place either.

The garden changed the moment that thought surfaced.

The sunlight dimmed.

The flowers and grass began to fade.

Behind Quan Nha, a flood of dark purple mist surged forward. There were no clear images within it, only layers of chaotic emotion overlapping one another: possessiveness, hunting instinct, infatuation, vigilance, ferocity, and some deeper primal impulse he could not name.

Those emotions did not feel entirely like hers. Hao Nhien suspected the residual imprint of the Python King was forcing its way into the illusion.

“Quan Nha!”

He tightened his grip on her hand.

“Look at me!”

She raised her head. Her eyes were still clouded with confusion.

He did not know whether she could hear him, but he spoke anyway.

“This isn’t you.”

“It isn’t me either.”

“Don’t let that thing decide.”

The purple mist drew closer.

The garden began to distort.

For a moment, an overwhelming force tried to drag his consciousness down again. Then the hand in his trembled.

Quan Nha gripped back.

Hard.

The world shattered.

Hao Nhien opened his eyes to the same cave.

His breathing was ragged, his head throbbed as though needles were piercing it, and his right hand was tightly holding Quan Nha’s.

She was sitting very close.

At some point, the original three-step distance between them had disappeared.

They were almost leaning against each other, perhaps having unconsciously sought support while the illusion spiraled out of control. Sweat still clung to her forehead, and a lingering flush remained in her face, but her eyes were clear again.

Neither of them spoke.

Only their breathing could be heard.

Hao Nhien looked down at their joined hands.

Quan Nha did the same.

They released each other almost at the same time.

The atmosphere turned awkward.

He coughed, feeling that this might be the first time in a very long while that he genuinely had no idea what to say.

In the end, she spoke first.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Her voice was lower than usual.

Hao Nhien looked at her.

She lowered her gaze to the beast core in her palm. The dark purple light within it had faded considerably, and the savage aura it carried before was no longer as obvious.

“It wasn’t entirely my fault either.”

Quan Nha spoke as though she were still sorting through what had happened.

“The talent awakened too suddenly. The moment I touched the imprint inside, my spiritual awareness was pulled in. At first there were only chaotic sensations. After that, something like an illusion began to form.”

“Do you remember the garden?”

She remained silent for a breath before nodding.

“Yes.”

Her face turned a little to the side.

“I remember you being there too.”

Hao Nhien had the distinct feeling that if this conversation continued in that direction, things would only become more awkward.

He coughed.

“Then... we can leave that part for later.”

Quan Nha glanced at him.

“You know how to be embarrassed?”

“I’ve always known.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

He was momentarily speechless, but seeing the tension in her expression ease allowed him to relax as well.

“What about the talent?”

She looked up, apparently surprised by how quickly he had changed the subject.

His gaze shifted to the beast core.

“Did you manage to comprehend anything?”

After a brief pause, Quan Nha nodded.

“Yes.”

She met his eyes.

“It isn’t poison affinity.”

Hao Nhien had already suspected as much.

“Charm affinity?”

“Mm.”

She raised a hand and touched the corner of her eye.

“I don’t understand all of it yet. But when the talent awakened, my gaze became the point of connection. If someone looks directly into my eyes and their mind isn’t stable enough, I can pull their consciousness into an illusion.”

Hao Nhien considered this.

“Do you create the illusion?”

“Not entirely.”

That answer caught his attention.

“I only understand part of it so far. It seems I can create an initial point of entry, but the illusion then draws from things buried deep within the target’s mind to complete itself. Memories, desires, fears, obsessions... anything deeply rooted can be pulled into it.”

He remembered the garden.

That sense of peace was clearly not something Quan Nha could have known.

It had come from him.

“So the garden just now...”

“Part of it came from you.”

After a brief pause, she added, “But the chaos afterward wasn’t something I created deliberately. The imprint remaining in the beast core was too strong. The Python King’s talent may have been tied to instinct and seduction, so when I lost control, those remnants forced their way in.”

Hao Nhien nodded.

That explanation matched what he had experienced with the Gray Shadow Wolf King’s core.

Not complete memories.

Only lingering imprints, sensations, and instincts.

“What about now?”

“Now I can sense how to open and close it.”

She continued, “I can pull someone’s mind into an illusion if the conditions are right. But the more realistic the illusion becomes, the greater the drain on me. If the opponent has a strong Divine Soul or enough willpower, they may notice something is wrong on their own.”

Hao Nhien remembered the moment the embryonic cycle within his Divine Soul had stirred.

Without the Soul Art, he might have sunk much deeper.

“I don’t think this talent is limited to infatuation,” Quan Nha continued. “Other emotions may also serve as entry points. Fear, regret, anger, obsession... perhaps all of them can be amplified.”

Her brows drew together.

“But I can’t control it that precisely yet. That was the first time. I was almost being dragged along by it myself.”

Hao Nhien exhaled.

“Good thing you didn’t awaken and immediately gain the ability to kill anyone just by looking at them.”

She gave him a look.

“Disappointed?”

“I’m thanking the heavens.”

A hint of amusement crossed her face.

He smiled as well, then became serious again.

“Inside the illusion, there was a moment when I felt like you were trying to force your way out.”

Quan Nha was silent for a while.

“At that time, I felt that if I forcibly closed the illusion, I could escape.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Your spiritual awareness had already been pulled too deep.”

Her answer was calm, but the hand resting on the beast core tightened.

“I didn’t know what would happen to your Divine Soul if I forcibly severed the connection.”

Hao Nhien paused. He looked at her for several breaths before letting out a quiet sigh.

“Good thing we both made it out.”

She said nothing.

After a while, Quan Nha lowered her gaze to the beast core.

“I didn’t expect one attempt at comprehension to turn into this.”

“Neither did I.”

“You still have the mood to joke?”

A wry smile appeared on his face.

“If I don’t say anything, it’ll only get more awkward.”

A trace of amusement flickered across her expression before disappearing.

They both fell silent.

Only the wind slipping through the narrow gaps in the entrance and their gradually calming breaths remained.

Hao Nhien leaned back against the cave wall.

The garden was still vivid in his mind, so vivid that if he closed his eyes, he felt he could almost see the lake, the sunlight, and the figure standing by the shore.

Yet the clearer those memories remained, the less he wanted to examine them too closely.

What had the illusion taken from his mind?

How much had been guided by the Charm Art?

How much had already existed within him?

He did not know.

For now, he did not want to know either.

Not here.

Not after they had both just lost control.

His gaze drifted toward Quan Nha.

She sat quietly, watching the beast core that had dimmed considerably. Her usual coolness remained, but somehow there seemed to be one less layer of distance between them.

Only then did Hao Nhien notice that she had remained closer than usual ever since they woke.

She had not deliberately moved away from him either.

It was only that.

Yet somehow, it felt as though something between them had quietly changed.

Before he could think any further, she spoke.

“What happened this time...”

Quan Nha paused.

“Don’t bring it up again.”

Hao Nhien looked at her, a smile threatening to appear.

She turned toward him.

“You’re thinking about teasing me, aren’t you?”

The smile vanished.

“No. I remember.”

She watched him for another moment before a faint trace of amusement returned to her eyes.

Seeing that, Hao Nhien felt some of the tension leave him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “I have it under control now.”

He nodded.

“That’s good.”

Quan Nha tilted her head and held his gaze for a little longer.

Hao Nhien leaned back at once.

“Sister Quan Nha... please spare me.”

This time, she laughed.

It was not loud, but in the quiet cave, the sound was remarkably clear.

Hao Nhien looked at her and found himself laughing as well.

After a while, the laughter faded.

He stood, and Quan Nha rose with him. This time, the space between them was a little smaller than before.

As they prepared to leave the cave, she asked, “You still plan to return to the territories of the two Beast Kings?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m going with you.”

Hao Nhien looked surprised.

“You just finished comprehending the beast core. Don’t you need more rest?”

“I’m fine.”

She walked past him, her voice returning to its familiar cool tone.

“Besides, if I let you go alone, there’s no guarantee you’ll still be in one piece by morning.”

Watching her back, he laughed despite himself.

“Sister Quan Nha.”

She kept walking.

“What?”

He had been about to say something, but after thinking for a moment, he changed his mind.

“Nothing.”

Quan Nha glanced back once, then continued toward the cave entrance.

Hao Nhien followed.

He did not know where things between them would eventually lead.

He only knew that when they stepped out of the cave that night, the distance between them no longer felt quite as far as it once had.