Qiang’s bravado crumbled the moment the gemstones hit the ground. He lowered his head—not in genuine remorse, but to eye the sparkling stones, already scheming how to trade them for treats in the outer districts.

  “Tonight, when we get home, we’ll settle this,” Ning Guo said, forcing calm into her voice. “You two never give me a moment’s peace. Why can’t you be more like Fei? You embarrass me constantly…”

  She adjusted her breathing, refusing to explode in public. Glancing at the grinning artisans around her, she shot them a stern look.

  Artisans weren’t as disciplined as soldiers—lazy habits died hard. Watching them laugh and eat without restraint, she felt a helpless exasperation only parents truly understood.

  “Enough laughing,” she snapped. “Wait until your own children grow up—you’ll have your turn to weep. You two—take Jun to register for the apprentice camp. Now.”

  Mei and Qiang exchanged a quick, mischievous glance, smirks tugging at their lips.

  “Yes, Mother!” Qiang bowed exaggeratedly, scooping up the fallen gems in one swift motion before bolting away. Mei followed close behind.

  Halfway across the yard, Mei stopped and yelled over her shoulder at the dazed Jun Zhao. “Hurry up—don’t just stand there!”

  Jun Zhao had never seen a girl built like Mei—broad-shouldered, powerful. He stared a moment too long before jogging after them, clumsy with awe.

  Ning Guo shook her head, sighing as she watched the three children weave through the crowd toward the outer camp.

  At least tomorrow the twins would ship off to special training camp. The thought brought an involuntary smile to her face.

  “Old Zhao,” she said, turning back, “thank you for the fruit. I’ll have someone deliver your payment to your sons. Time is short—go handle your business.”

  “Wait—”

  The artisan captain’s booming voice stopped the merchant just as he turned away.

  The man emerged from the barracks carrying a heavy square crate in both arms. He set it down on Old Zhao’s cart with a thud.

  Old Zhao nodded knowingly and waved his men forward. They unloaded a larger container.

  When the lid opened, a sleek black-iron magitech cutting robot gleamed inside—blades polished, arcane circuits glowing faintly.

  “In Flame Glory Nation, these are everywhere,” Old Zhao explained. “Mining, refining—all done by machines now. Elemental masters are too rare these days. We have no choice but to keep advancing magitech.”

  Ning Guo’s expression hardened.

  “This cannot enter the mines,” she said firmly. “Why are masters so rare? Because reckless people ruined the continent’s spirit veins. We won’t repeat their mistakes.”

  She glared at the artisan captain nearby. The Watchers did not oppose magitech outright, but any device that disrupted natural balance was forbidden on their land.

  The captain ran a loving hand over the robot’s chassis. The cutting blades shone with fresh oil. He straightened, pounding his chest.

  “I, Tieniu Guo, swear it—this machine stays in the smelting district only. Never the mines.”

  “Still no,” Ning Guo replied. “Rules are rules.”

  “But Captain—think about it! Cutting ore with elemental energy drains our vitality. With this, we conserve strength, advance our cultivation!”

  She understood the logic. The machine was lifeless; if handled properly, it posed no threat. But leniency now could spiral out of control later.

  “…You make a fair point,” she conceded. “The device is confiscated for now. I’ll consult the commander. If permission is denied, you dismantle it yourself.”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  Old Zhao sensed the tension and wisely climbed back into his cart, driving into the trade district without another word.

  The market quickly came alive. Merchants set up stalls in their allotted spaces with practiced efficiency. Soon the streets teemed with buyers eager for this rare monthly opportunity.

  Ning Guo watched the bustle. Everyone waited for these moments—trading precious minerals for valuable outer-world resources.

  She knew better than anyone: the Watchers could no longer survive without such technology. Coexistence was the only path forward.

  “Meal time!”

  High on the mountain peak, inside Iron Law’s interrogation chamber, a young bald acolyte carried in trays. One bowl of thin porridge each, a small plate of pickled vegetables, and a single steamed bun.

  Timo Yang sat hunched in guilt. He kept replaying the same thoughts: If Aunt Guo hadn’t taken him to Wind Serpent Valley, she’d still be alive.

  If he hadn’t chased that Windspirit Hare, they would never have encountered the evil cultivator.

  Lost in self-blame, his stomach growled loudly at the announcement.

  After vomiting the foul black blood yesterday, he had only managed a few sips of restorative broth.

  Hearing the call, he sat obediently on the bench like during training camp drills.

  “Big brother,” he said softly, eyes pleading, “I want to go home.”

  The young acolyte’s heart twisted at the boy’s expression.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  He was only an apprentice himself—two years of odd jobs, and this was the youngest “suspect” he had ever seen.

  “The captain says something big happened,” he whispered. “All the healthy children rescued from the Blackwood have been brought here. They’re questioning them one by one.”

  As he spoke, Zhi Zhao—Little Zhao—strode over from the corner, scowling.

  Standing beside the acolyte, he towered over him, built far sturdier. Compared to the enforcers who had brought Timo in, the young acolyte looked fragile as a reed.

  “This is our food?” Little Zhao demanded, staring at the meager portions. “We’re not prisoners.”

  Even with modest merit, he had never eaten poorly. Meals in the legion were equal—commander and common soldier alike ate the same.

  “Iron Law eats the same,” the acolyte began, then caught himself.

  He had almost revealed that these simple dishes were cultivated with concentrated five-element spiritual energy—far superior to ordinary outer-world food, a closely guarded secret.

  “Same as what?” Little Zhao pressed. “Feeling guilty? Let me remind you—this boy is Regimental Commander Lingfeng Yang’s son. A hero’s child. How dare you treat him like this?”

  Wind energy surged around him—mid-tier, sky-blue glow flaring.

  Timo felt the familiar breeze and saw the azure light. So this was standard wind element, the kind Aunt Guo had described.

  Ordinary wind appeared cyan. Was that the mark of a spirit-driver bloodline?

  He clearly remembered his own awakening—pure white energy coiling around his hands.

  The evil cultivator, Lulu, Aunt Guo, even his sister’s journal—all mentioned the Windrider clan. My power is a curse, not a gift.

  Thank goodness the wind I showed before awakening was cyan. Otherwise… Timo shuddered inwardly but kept his face neutral.

  “What kind of ability is that?” Little Zhao snarled, stepping forward.

  The acolyte’s pupils bleached white. An invisible force halted Little Zhao mid-stride.

  “Warrior Zhi Zhao,” the acolyte said, voice suddenly resonant, “do not mistake kindness for weakness. Iron Law’s meals are grown infused with the five elemental spirits of heaven and earth. Those few pickled vegetables surpass even the medical division’s awakened spirit herbs.”

  Ghost Shadow materialized from the darkness, nodding once. The acolyte’s eyes returned to normal. He bowed politely and left the chamber.

  Cold Hands, Hidden Truths

  Timo Yang’s eyes widened at the acolyte’s words. He dug in without hesitation. The porridge was plain at first taste, but the moment it touched his tongue, warmth spread through him like rain on parched earth—simple, yet impossibly nourishing.

  He chewed slowly, trying to puzzle out the ingredients. The porridge seemed egg-based, subtle and creamy. The steamed bun was soft and layered, blending multiple grains into something almost fluffy.

  The pickled vegetables looked unappetizing, but they melted the instant they hit his mouth—like snowflakes from Glacier Valley, cool and faintly sweet, leaving a refreshing chill.

  Zhi Zhao took one bite and couldn’t stop. His earlier complaints felt childish now.

  Both boys ate in silence until the bowls were empty. A deep, steady fullness settled in, followed by a surge of clarity and energy. Their minds sharpened; fatigue vanished.

  “Any chance for seconds?” Zhi Zhao called out, waving his empty bowl like a tavern regular.

  He turned—and realized Ghost Shadow had already slipped away.

  “Fei, my condolences,” Captain Li said gently in the medical examination room. “Even if the Mother of Earth has turned to stone, protocol demands full testing. You understand—the medical division won’t declare death without conclusive data.”

  Yue Yang, Fei, Elder Bai, and several physicians stood around the chamber.

  Captain Li spoke with the warmth of a mother—she had once been Yue Yang and Timo’s mother’s closest aide.

  After the former medical Deacon fell in battle, Li could have taken the role. But she knew her limits and declined.

  Deputy Zhang owed his peak elemental strength—and his position—to Elder Bai’s guidance five years ago. Without her, he would never have met the minimum requirement.

  When the division faced crisis, Elder Bai cut short her travels and returned at the legion’s urgent summons.

  At Li’s words, Fei bowed respectfully and placed Rui Guo’s petrified remains into the diagnostic pod. The lid sealed with a soft hiss. Scanning lights swept up and down the stone form.

  A holographic projection materialized. Elder Bai rotated the three-dimensional image, zooming in and out, examining internal structures with clinical precision.

  Captain Li and two assistants recorded every detail: vital readings, anomalous states at time of injury, even the intricate patterns of petrification threading through veins and meridians.

  Deputy Zhang, seeing Elder Bai personally involved, selected a trusted team and left the medical wing. The white-robed group moved quickly to seal the command center.

  “Sister Yue!”

  Yue Yang had been staying close to Fei’s side. At the whisper, she turned to find Lulu materializing behind her.

  “Ghost Shadow took Timo Yang away,” Lulu murmured, glancing around as if avoiding unseen eyes.

  Yue Yang nodded and led Lulu out of the examination room. Everyone was used to the girl’s sudden appearances, but Yue Yang didn’t want to risk disturbing Elder Bai.

  She wrote quickly in her journal: Ghost Shadow announced it in the command center. An incident this big—everyone will be questioned.

  Lulu read it and shook her head vigorously.

  “An Evil Cultivator extracting spirit roots right under the Watchers’ nose? You really think it’s coincidence?” she whispered. “Besides the commander, only the Deacons could cover something like that.”

  Yue Yang scribbled: You mean the elders?

  Lulu crossed it out with a sharp X.

  “Not Elder Gan—I’m sure of it. He took Timo to use as bait for the traitor.”

  That sounded exactly like Lin Gan’s style—always three moves ahead, plans hidden even from allies.

  But why did Aunt Guo take my brother out? To help him awaken?

  If he succeeds, I have to warn him: once he breaks through first tier, never cultivate higher wind arts.

  “Has Timo awakened?” Yue Yang wrote.

  Lulu shrugged. “Looked the same as always—total weakling.”

  If he hadn’t awakened, Iron Law would find nothing.

  But if he had… who knew what dormant Windrider blood might reveal?

  “What are you two whispering about?”

  Fei emerged from the examination room, eyes red-rimmed but steady. He was holding himself together—another glance at the scans would have broken him again.

  Yue Yang and Lulu exchanged a look. Should they tell him the commander accidentally killed Rui Guo? Would he confront Fan Yi in rage?

  “Talking about Wanwan?” Fei asked. “I heard—she was the evil cultivator. Used an ice illusion to control the commander and the others. But do you really believe a first-tier master could dominate three emissary-level experts at once?”

  Both girls shook their heads in unison. Even a toddler wouldn’t buy that story. Traveling bards wouldn’t dare spin such nonsense.

  To ordinary folk, an emissary master was already godlike. Controlling four simultaneously? Unimaginable.

  “Whatever the truth,” Fei said, drawing a deep breath, “it’s tied to the missing children. My investigation isn’t closed yet. I’m continuing the case.”

  Lulu’s eyes lit up. “Awaiting orders, Captain!”

  With official detective authority, she could go anywhere without question.

  “Let’s retrace steps,” Fei said, slipping into investigator mode. “When did you last see Wanwan clearly?”

  “After you went to rest,” Lulu replied. “She was normal—helping Sister Yue treat the rescued kids. Timo was shadowing them, learning. Honestly, medical work bores me. I went off to cultivate lightning energy alone.

  “About two hours later, I saw Aunt Guo leave the command center by herself.”

  Lulu scratched her head sheepishly. “I climbed the highest watchtower to absorb thunder essence. Storm was raging—my hair stood on end. I went from cultivating to getting fried.”

  She grinned in embarrassment. “Aunt Guo spotted me smoking and pulled me down. That was the first time I saw her wind element up close—how terrifyingly fast she was.”

  Her voice softened, eyes glistening. “If not for her, my armor would’ve charred. After, she told me to fetch Timo—said she was taking him out. I grabbed him and went to sleep.”

  She left out the part where she sneaked back to the bunker, soaked in a nutrient pod for two hours, then returned for more lightning training.

  Yue Yang held back tears and nodded, writing rapidly.

  I saw Aunt Guo leave with Timo myself. She seemed urgent. As the Mother of Earth, it must have been critical—but she didn’t say where.

  After adding: Wanwan said the children were stable and told me to rest. I set an alarm and slept two hours in the dorm.

  Her handwriting quickened: When I returned for my shift, Wanwan stood alone in the medical bay for a while. When she came out, I grabbed her hand—it was ice-cold. She couldn’t understand my signs.

  https://www.paypal.me/RocYangWriter(Note: PayPal is for tips only; early access is managed via Patreon.)