Chu Lian's transformation left them astonished. Fortunately, except for Inori, Chu Chu, Kurosaki Satsuki, and Tina—the three girls and one cat—no one else could see this scene.
After all, Chu Lian's sitting posture had not changed, and her body showed no visible movement. The only sign was that her entire being was enveloped by spiritual power, forming a white rose around her.
However, the spiritual power of nature has no color in the eyes of ordinary people. Normally, spiritual power is transparent, and only when the same type gathers together does it emit light of different hues.
The white spiritual power surrounding Chu Lian could not be seen by anyone who had not mastered the cultivation of spiritual energy, so the others remained completely unaware.
Even so, no one knew how long this transformation would last. What if it continued until the plane landed—how would they explain it then?
That was a question for later. For now, they had to calm Chu Chu and the others.
Inori was the first to think of this issue. She quickly stopped Chu Chu from stepping forward and whispered, "Lian must be undergoing a metamorphosis. We don't know how long it'll take, so we must stay calm and act as though nothing has happened."
Her words were mainly directed at Chu Chu, since Kurosaki Satsuki didn't understand Chinese. So afterward, she repeated the message in Japanese to the white-haired girl—but her wording was very different: "Lian is ascending. Once she awakens, her power will soar. You'd better be ready and keep up with her pace."
"I already expected as much." The brilliance of spiritual power emanating from Chu Lian was overwhelming—so much that it had drawn in all nearby energy. Such a phenomenon could hardly be something simple.
In truth, what they saw was merely the result of being in a sealed cabin. Outside, at some distance from the plane, anyone attuned to spiritual power, magic, or mana could see a vortex of spiritual energy spinning around the very spot where Chu Lian sat.
This vortex seemed to possess a will of its own. As it followed the plane's movement, it absorbed all the surrounding spiritual energy it required and expelled the rest.
Such a disturbance could not possibly go unnoticed. Yet the skies at ten thousand meters carried their own restrictions—those of immense power could not draw near. The stronger the being, the harsher the backlash. If they tried, their power would be sealed and they would fall helplessly from the heavens.
Still, while human powerhouses could not approach, certain beings from ancient times—those that had survived to this very day—watched silently from hidden spaces scattered across the sky.
They had sensed traces of the long-vanished "god," yet could not determine in whom that divine spark now resided. So they waited and observed, biding their time until their own seals were undone—then they would seek that person out and seize the godhood for themselves.
When that day came, this godless world would become their dominion.
Among the ancient beasts sealed since the primordial era, not all were without fortune.
Along the flight path of Chu Lian's plane lay one such spatial seal—one that imprisoned an ancient dragon.
Chu Lian's transformation had triggered the birth of the spiritual vortex. As it traveled, the vortex absorbed every ounce of usable energy within several kilometers, including the fading remnants of the spiritual locks that bound the dragon. Those seals, worn thin by countless ages, could no longer hold.
Thus, the creature—though not overwhelmingly strong, but with an extraordinary life force—awoke from its slumber.
In the darkness, a pair of amber, slit-pupiled eyes slowly opened. Flames erupted throughout the space, revealing the beast's massive form in the flickering glow.
It resembled the dragons of Western legend in nine parts out of ten, though its body was far larger—thirty meters long, with wings spanning seventy to eighty meters. Its black-red scales glimmered with sparks of fire, and each breath it exhaled was laced with burning sulfur.
At that moment, the amber eyes blazed with ferocity and rage.
Long years of imprisonment had not tempered the creature's nature—it had only fueled its fury.
Now, it had likely become a slave to its own strength, surrendering all reason for the sake of vengeance against the humans who had sealed it away.
When it awoke and sensed the change in its surroundings, the ancient dragon roared and swung its massive claws, slamming against the dark walls of its prison. Yet those walls, still pulsing faintly with residual spiritual energy, did not move in the slightest no matter how hard it struck.
Though the passing of eons had not dulled its ferocity, its strength had gradually faded away.
If nothing unexpected happened, its dwindling power meant it had perhaps a century of life remaining. After that, it would become like countless other sealed beasts before it—nothing more than a wandering soul within its prison. This, therefore, was its one and only chance at rebirth.
It struck the walls again and again—dozens of times—yet they held firm. Its naturally violent temperament now exploded into pure madness. The dragon stepped back several meters, then charged forward, slamming its body once more. Again and again, it repeated the motion, like a machine that knew no exhaustion. Even when its scales cracked open and dark red, molten blood spilled down its body, it did not stop.
No one knew how long it continued, but at last, a faint metallic crack echoed through the void. A thin fissure appeared in the darkness. The dragon's eyes gleamed with wild excitement. It ignored its pain and hurled itself at the wall again and again.
It would not stop until it broke free from this prison.
Of course, Chu Lian and the others were unaware of any of this. After all, who could imagine that this seemingly peaceful world still hid so many living "nuclear weapons"?
These creatures were sealed away not only in the deep seas but also within glaciers, beneath the earth's crust, and high above the skies. The fact that their plane happened to pass near one of these seals could only be described as terrifyingly good—or bad—luck.
"Big Sis… she's going to be okay, right?" After remaining quiet for most of the day, Chu Chu finally spoke, staring at the white rose of spiritual power surrounding Chu Lian for a long, long time before asking softly.
Playing idly with a lock of her hair that hung over her chest, Inori gave a quiet "Mm."
"Well, I suppose so. If Big Sis were really in danger, you wouldn't be so calm, would you, Sister Inori?" Chu Chu muttered self-deprecatingly after a moment's thought.
"No. If something were wrong, the one who'd be the most worried wouldn't be me—it'd be you." Inori shook her head gently. She understood all too well how much she depended on Chu Lian and how deep her feelings for her ran.
But even that couldn't hide the truth—that deep within her memory lay the shadow of someone else. Someone she could no longer recall, someone who was already gone. Yet as long as that lingering presence remained, she could never give Chu Lian her whole heart.
Even if ninety-nine percent of it belonged to her, that missing one percent meant it was still incomplete.
She herself only vaguely understood this. Whenever she tried to recall anything about that person, unbearable pain would seize her—just like the first time Chu Lian met her—splitting her head open with agony until she fainted.
This was something Mana Ouma and Eve had done deliberately—to protect her, to give her a new beginning.
Whether it was truly for her sake or for some hidden purpose, it was undeniable that Inori had, just as they wished, begun to live again as a real "person."
But no plan made by humans ever goes perfectly.
What they hadn't anticipated was just how deeply that person's presence had taken root in her heart.
Chu Lian, too, had sensed it—but she had no way, or perhaps no desire, to resolve it.
After all, everything had begun when Inori tied that flower cord for Shu Ouma to untie.
To end it, Inori would need to tie another flower cord—for Chu Lian—and have her undo it.
That was the cycle of fate, the test to see whether Inori had truly let go of everything from the past and could give her heart to Chu Lian completely.
No one knew how long this process would take. But both she and Inori were willing to wait.
"She's my sister, and I'm her little sister. Of course I care about her," Chu Chu said softly, lowering her head as her voice dimmed.
"Mm. If sisters without blood ties can still count as true sisters…" Inori whispered so quietly that only Chu Chu could hear or understand her.
"You…" Chu Chu lifted her head, staring at Inori in shock. "How do you know that?"
"Actually, it's not just me—many people have already guessed it to some extent," Inori said softly, gazing at her with gentle eyes. "It doesn't matter. If you like her, then go for it. I think… she would accept you."
"No, Big Sis only sees me as her little sister—a child who needs her protection. She doesn't see me like she sees you all. I'm not someone she can rely on. Even though she once said she'd wait until I became her most trusted right hand, before that day comes, she'll always subconsciously treat me as someone she has to protect."
Chu Chu's eyes shimmered with tears as she whispered those words so softly that only Li Xiu'er, Inori, and Kurosaki Satsuki beside her could hear.
Li Xiu'er's body trembled, her head lowering deeply. Kurosaki Satsuki, not understanding Chinese, simply remained silent, unaware of the meaning behind the words.
"That's because you've never tried," Inori said, turning her head to look out the window. Her tone was calm, but her words were sharp as needles, piercing straight into Chu Chu's heart. "One day, when you do something that makes her change the way she sees you, you'll understand—her feelings are real."
"Try…? Do something that makes Big Sis change how she sees me?" Chu Chu's eyes flickered with confusion, which then hardened into determination.
"I've already said it—I'll become your right hand, the one you can rely on most. You know what? I'll also become Big Sis's bride. So, I won't hesitate anymore." As she thought this, the tightly bound thread within her heart suddenly snapped.
The sealed power slowly flowed from her heart, circulating through her body. Her strength, stamina, agility—and spiritual power—all began to rise.
The clear sky outside suddenly gathered with dark clouds, streaks of radiant violet lightning flashing across the heavens. Yet not a single bolt struck the plane.
To ordinary people, the anomaly was only a source of fear and confusion.
But only Inori and the others understood—at this very moment, Chu Chu had begun her metamorphosis. When it was complete, the world itself might tremble before her transformation.
The children of the Chu family had never been ordinary—Chu Lian was such, and so was Chu Chu.
Far in the distance, land finally appeared beneath the plane. Through the windows, the passengers saw it—the long-awaited land of America.