Xu Xi and Krisha had spent four years together.
In these four years, Xu Xi had witnessed the witch’s growth—both physically and emotionally. He felt there was no one who understood Krisha better than him.
And yet, despite his familiarity with her, he had rarely paid close attention to her eyes.
What words could describe them?
The bonfire crackled in the dark, casting faint, flickering light that mingled with the night’s cold. Breath turned to mist in the chilly air as Krisha’s eyes blinked slowly, reflecting the flames.
Her eyes weren’t the kind described for the protagonist of a grand tale.
There was no mystery or radiance.
No unyielding determination or heartfelt innocence.
These things did not belong to Krisha, an emotionless witch.
Her eyelashes trembled slightly, and the moisture on her eyes’ surface glistened in the firelight, magnifying their calm indifference.
Xu Xi wondered: if the eyes were the windows to the soul, what did Krisha’s soul look like?
He gazed deeply, curious and intent, but no matter how closely he observed, all he saw in those eyes was his own reflection.
This was normal.
After all, Krisha’s gaze had always been fixed on Xu Xi—he was the only one in her world.
“It seems that idea about eyes being the windows to the soul is false,” Xu Xi thought with a faint sense of regret.
He shifted his focus, observing the strange interplay of gold and black in her eyes. The two colors intertwined like opposing stars in a night sky, merging in an unsettling and incomprehensible way.
The effect wasn’t beautiful. If anything, it was unnerving.
“Krisha, can you tell me when your eyes began to change?” Xu Xi asked.
“Before you came back,” she replied, her voice calm as always.
Krisha herself was unaware of the change, but as Xu Xi questioned her further, he pieced together the likely cause.
“Despair and sadness…”
“No, more specifically, extreme emotional stimuli,” Xu Xi muttered to himself.
He theorized that Krisha’s light gold eyes were tied to her half-demon bloodline. If her eyes had changed, it might indicate a change in her bloodline as well.
Reaching out, Xu Xi placed his hand gently on Krisha’s head and touched the small horns he had previously treated.
They were rough, with slight bulges—signs of regrowth.
“It seems my guess was right,” Xu Xi concluded.
The night wind howled outside, but the magic barrier blocked it, leaving only its sound to echo faintly.
Xu Xi knew little about demons. The Magicians’ Association books described them as beings born without magic but possessing powerful physical strength, hated by gods as pests of the world.
The records were too biased, offering no detailed information.
Thus, Xu Xi couldn’t determine whether Krisha’s changes were good or bad.
“Krisha, do you feel any different?” he asked, canceling his light magic.
She shook her head, her silver-gray hair swaying gently.
“No, master. I feel the same as before,” she answered truthfully.
“Is that so…”
The bonfire blazed, and Xu Xi decided to let the matter rest for now. His knowledge of demons was too limited to draw any conclusions.
For now, he could only monitor Krisha’s condition and gather more information from other cities.
Fortunately, the changes didn’t seem to cause her pain. The only visible difference was her eyes, which neither of them minded.
Later that night, Xu Xi and Krisha sat by the fire, enveloped by the warmth of the fire barrier.
It was a surreal feeling—sitting quietly in their small, protected bubble while the world outside roared with chaos.
Above them, stars sparkled in the vast sky. Below, the wilderness stretched endlessly. In the distance, the fires of Allenson City burned fiercely.
“Master… Master… Master,” Krisha murmured, her voice steady but filled with a quiet determination.
She couldn’t sit idle and always looked for ways to help Xu Xi—whether by heating water or organizing the space ring.
Finally, Xu Xi asked her to sit and rest. Reluctantly, she complied.
“Krisha, we’re no longer in Allenson. You can relax a little,” he said gently.
“Yes…”
But even as she sat, she seemed restless.
To distract her, Xu Xi began talking—sharing stories of Earth’s myths, tips for practicing magic, and tales of ordinary daily life.
Krisha listened intently.
Was it the stories that captivated her? Or was it simply because Xu Xi was speaking? Perhaps it was neither.
Midway through his storytelling, Xu Xi noticed Krisha had fallen asleep.
Her breathing was steady, and she let out soft murmurs as she slept. Under the moonlight, her delicate features radiated a cool beauty.
“Still just a child,” Xu Xi murmured with a helpless smile.
He stood, walked over to her, and draped a thick blanket over her sleeping form.
As if sensing his presence even in sleep, Krisha mumbled incoherently, her expression soft and childlike.
To think that the frail, mud-covered girl he had met four years ago had grown into this—Xu Xi couldn’t help but marvel at how far she had come.
“Is this a simulation for creating a better life or raising a little girl?” he mused, gazing up at the stars.
Calling up the simulation panel, Xu Xi fell into deep thought under the vast night sky.