As soon as he was freed from the mud, the long-backed chair pushed against the back of Yann’s knees. He tumbled on its smooth surface, seated before he could will it. His will, however, didn’t matter before the smiling sky-blue-haired youth. He was at the youth’s mercy, his body a puppet that could be broken with a thought. But his mind would never bend, no matter who Adam was or what he wanted.
He leaned against the chair, his head higher than what dignity allowed, making him look contemptuous instead. His curled moustache and the scales covering his face reflected the crackling campfire.
"Grow a few hairs on that baby face of yours if you want to swindle knowledge from me, lad. The spells you want to learn are legacy, no mage would ever share. The archipelago’s secrets are not for you to pry into."
He shuddered, his voice dropping to a mutter. "Not for anyone to pry into. I don’t know if you merely changed your recruitment approach, or if you’re an unholy product shaped in the laboratory of one of these mad bastards. You could even be a wretched son of humans and beasts for all I care. But some secrets are better left unlearned. Their mere knowledge becomes a flavorful poison they’ll track. And once they find you..." He ran his finger on his throat without another word.
Adam rolled his eyes, the insults roiling on his skin. For a moment, he wanted to retort about the human beast union. Like most, he wouldn’t tolerate someone who insulted Alina. But then, he thought about his other mother... the magical cow.
With tendons coming straight from a merman, hands from a dwarf, and bones from a demon, not to mention Misha’s complex DNA that offered him the best from all regular beasts in creation, he felt like he’d better not answer, lest he made a fool of himself later.
With an awkward cough, he massaged his temples. "Look, Yann, I was merely having fun because of your misunderstanding. You’re vulgar and quick-tempered, but you also kept your hands clean despite my offers." He handed him the bottle of wine, a warm smile curving his lips. "Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?"
"Humph." Yann scrunched his nose. "You don’t give me much of a choice, do you? In any case, don’t expect my tongue to run loose for your entertainment. But I’ll take the wine."
Snatching the bottle, he flung the cork open with a thick thumb. Instantly, a sour stench struck his nostrils like a hammer. Mind adrift, he brought the liquid to his quivering lips. The subtle sweetness of magical fruits seared his tongue, then his throat as he gulped with a delighted shiver. Warmth spread through his stomach, but not only that. He felt the liquid tug his soul into an embrace gentler than what any woman had offered him. And he had spent time with way too many to remember— more often than not—money, too.
As he gulped the precious liquid faster, Adam chuckled. "Relax, I’m not taking it back. Anyway, you seem stubborn enough to teach stones, so let me recount to you my visits to the Order of the Poisonous Path and the Witch of the West while you enjoy your drink."
He told him about William, Pablo’s buried grimoire, and how they were worried their magical roots would fade into the cultivators’ culture. His features hardened into a mask of suppressed anger when he mentioned the child-devouring witch and, even worse, the Verdant Peak sect’s child trafficking.
By the end of the story, Yann clenched his fists, the bottle exploding in his trembling grasp. "I’m glad you killed that bitch. She’s not one of us, not a mage—not even a human!" He kicked a stone circling the campfire, huffing. "That disgusting sect is no better. I pray the heavens themselves will drown these dogs in lightning. Maybe then, they will understand how powerless their victims felt."
"Why wait for the heavens?" Adam smirked. "I didn’t use lightning, but I annihilated them all using light."
The words echoed against the crackling fire, a heavy silence settling in the cave. Yann’s eyes widened, his face crumpling, lips bitten in a line so thin they disappeared under his beard.
"Why are you glaring at me?" Adam tilted his head, and Yann licked his dried lips, voice cracking in answer.
"Y-you destroyed an entire sect alone? It sounds surreal, but it might be possible if you really channel mana and qi without limit. Whether I believe you or not goes far beyond the point..." His voice grew ragged, the mail of his hauberk clinking as he trembled feverishly. "Are you one of those so-called heroes, the kind who preach selflessness while wallowing in their own delusions?"
"Tsk." Adam clicked his tongue, his lips pursing. "You can insult me, but don’t call me a hero."
"A fool, then—a dead one who’s wasting his last moments in a cave in the middle of nowhere, with a man as charming as he is powerless."
Adam frowned at Yann’s outburst, but didn’t get the time to answer. The mage already continued, and with soul-chilling news.
"You wanted information; here is one: this is not our original world. To the cultivators, we’re nothing more than the annoying friend of a distant friend, who smeared their houses with mud and broke their furniture. We are in their realm and..." He paused, shadows dancing on his face, his voice growing heavy. "They won’t tolerate a mage wantonly killing cultivators, much less destroying entire sects. She will come for you, lad. Everything you love will freeze, then shatter. Your corpse will hang over her palace for thousands of years in remembrance of the limit you’ve crossed. I’ll say it once more—you’re already a walking corpse."
The air crackled with tension as Adam shifted uneasily. Silence engulfed the cave, save for the crackling fire, whose flames seemed to turn icy. Each second stretched, building on the dread settling in Adam’s stomach like a boulder.
Eventually, he clenched his jaw, heart drumming in his ears, a question echoing in the cave. "Who will come?"
"They say she can freeze men, and the world, and even time. They say no one hates mages more than she does across the three regions of the cultivation realm. They call her..." Yann’s face darkened as he watched Adam shiver. "The Celestial Frost Matriarch, the dao integration realm overlord of the west. As for her name..."
An icy shiver ran down his spine. No, it wasn’t fear. The wind and fire had truly gone cold. Frost was spreading across the walls, too. And the forceful voice of a woman, the kind that didn’t accept objections, discussions, or delay, almost made him hear his mind crumble like glass.
"The least I can do for two dying dogs is to introduce myself properly. The name’s Yuehua Ji, and I’ve come to rid my lands of two parasites."