General Jing Yuan leaned against a carved railing with deceptive languor, white hair stirring gently as he observed the activity below with eyes that missed nothing despite their half-lidded ease. At first glance he might have appeared merely contemplative, even idle, yet the subtle adjustments of posture and the occasional murmured instruction to passing officers betrayed a mind actively coordinating the entire operation without visible effort. Beside him, though rarely still for more than a heartbeat, darted a much smaller figure issuing commands at a velocity that bordered on alarming.
Fu Xuan moved like a thunderbolt given human form, her restored arm slicing emphatic gestures through the air as she barked orders with a severity that made even seasoned captains snap to attention. The sleeves of her robes fluttered dramatically each time she pivoted, golden eyes blazing with fierce concentration while she corrected formations, reassigned patrol routes, and demanded status updates with the intensity of someone determined to justify her authority through sheer force of competence. If she noticed the trio's arrival, she gave no sign, too absorbed in directing the response to the aftermath of Phantylia's attack to partake in pleasantries.
Sunny, however, noticed her immediately, and his gaze lingered on the arm that had once been conspicuously absent before flicking upward to her expression with faint curiosity. He did not comment on the restoration, though the implications alone would have fascinated most mundane or Awakened observers, because what caught his attention instead was the unmistakable satisfaction underlying her severity. For all her stern demeanor, she looked like someone who had been handed the reins of a runaway carriage and discovered that she rather enjoyed steering it through the chaos.
Jing Yuan followed Sunny's line of sight and allowed a quiet chuckle to escape him, the sound rich with amusement that carried easily despite its softness. He said, tone indulgent in a way one might use when describing an overenthusiastic subordinate rather than one of the Luofu's most formidable figures:
"Do not mind Lady Fu. She was very… persistent when it came to allowing her to keep my position as General for a little longer. I would not be surprised if she wished to seize the role of Marshal as well."
Sunny blinked, momentarily pulled from his calculations of potential profit by the casual remark.
The Marshal was not merely a military rank but the Sovereign of the entire Xianzhou Alliance. Imagining the diminutive Diviner presiding over fleets that spanned centuries of history required a certain flexibility of imagination, yet he supposed that ambition rarely correlated with physical stature. After all, he himself harbored aspirations that would have sounded delusional to anyone with a conventional understanding of possibility.
He wanted to become the strongest being in existence, shatter the chains of Fate itself, and live not merely comfortably but gloriously, in a state of perpetual indulgence befitting a deity. The first two goals existed primarily to secure the third, because what was power or freedom if not tools for enjoyment? Whether Fu Xuan pursued authority for similar reasons or from some deeper sense of duty remained an open question, though Sunny suspected the truth lay somewhere in between. No one clawed their way to prominence without at least a trace of personal desire beneath the rhetoric of responsibility.
While he contemplated this, Jing Yuan reached into his robes with deliberate slowness, producing an object that gleamed softly in the ambient light. It was a slab of jade carved into the stylized form of a tiger, its surface etched with lines so fine they resembled veins of living energy rather than decoration. The craftsmanship alone marked it as an artifact of immense significance, yet the aura surrounding it carried a subtler weight, something ancient and solemn that spoke of vows older than most civilizations still standing.
"Back when the Alliance was first established, the Xianzhou ships swore an oath, etching the record into a jade abacus. The world may crumble and the heavens may fall, but this oath shall never be broken. The same is true of this piece. It is a record of the Luofu Cloud Knights' promise to the crew of the Astral Express, and it also serves as a beacon. Spend some Essence, and it will send a message to the corresponding abacus here in my possession."
He cleared his throat lightly, expression turning faintly wry.
"Of course, I trust that such an important article will not be used for trivial or inappropriate circumstances."
Sunny and Dan Heng exchanged a look whose duration was measured in fractions of a second yet conveyed an entire conversation. Without preamble, they raised their hands and launched into a silent round of rock-paper-scissors so swift it might have gone unnoticed by anyone not actively watching. Dan Heng's scissors neatly defeated Sunny's paper, and the result was accepted with the solemnity of a binding contract.
Dan Heng stepped forward to receive the jade tiger, holding it with careful respect while Sunny folded his arms and tried not to look too pleased at avoiding responsibility for safeguarding something that could potentially summon an entire military force.
Jing Yuan inclined his head slightly toward the Vidyadhara.
"Dan Heng. In accordance with the edict of the Ten-Lords Commission, I am hereby authorized to relieve your banishment decree. From this day henceforth, you may come and go freely on the Luofu."
March's reaction was immediate and unrestrained, a discreet but enthusiastic high-five delivered behind Dan Heng's back as though she feared that overt celebration might somehow invalidate the proclamation. Dan Heng himself remained outwardly composed, though the subtle tightening of his grip on the jade token betrayed an undercurrent of emotion that words would have cheapened.
Jing Yuan's tone softened, not losing authority but gaining a trace of gravity.
"However, I must remind you that the crimes of Dan Feng have had far-reaching implications. Some individuals, particularly those residing in Scalegorge Waterscape, will not be moved by the issuance of a paper edict. While I can guarantee your freedom of movement, I cannot guarantee your safety. I trust you understand."
Dan Heng nodded once, the motion small yet decisive, as though he had anticipated no other outcome.
Sunny, meanwhile, watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, his thoughts drifting briefly to the fragments of information he had pieced together since arriving on the Luofu. Jing Yuan's earlier story about his four troublesome friends had once seemed like an anecdote shrouded in deliberate vagueness, yet recent events had clarified several identities with uncomfortable precision. Blade was unmistakably the war criminal referenced, a man whose obsession with killing Dan Heng bordered on pathological. Dan Feng, the previous incarnation of the dragon scion standing beside him, was the so-called lunatic who had apparently improved with reincarnation. The remaining two figures remained mysteries, one having regressed into childhood and the other possessing an interest in Jing Yuan's student, whoever that might be.
None of it directly affected Sunny's immediate priorities, yet the knowledge nestled in his mind like a puzzle piece waiting for the right configuration to reveal its purpose.
What mattered now was compensation.
He allowed himself a quiet snicker, drawing curious glances from both companions, then stepped forward with hands clasped behind his back in a parody of polite humility. He announced, voice dripping with syrupy innocence that would have fooled no one familiar with his personality:
"Well, General, I have a very teensy-tiny request... in the grand scheme of things. It is essentially the same as feeding a raccoon some trash. I would like the Luofu — nay, the entire Alliance — to provide me with all your unused Memories. I am a collector of sorts."
He closed his eyes with a smug smile, already imagining hundreds, if not thousands of Memory's with useless enchantments resting in his Soul Sea
Jing Yuan tilted his head, expression shifting to something between surprise and bemusement.
"Ah. Before addressing that, I should inform you that you have been pardoned for destroying the Creation Furnace."
Sunny's eyes snapped open.
"The what now?"
The General chuckled lightly, clearly enjoying the reaction.
"In the Artisanship Commission, the roots of the Ambrosial Arbor had entwined themselves around the Creation Furnace, which we use to mass-produce equipment for the Cloud Knights. When you destroyed the roots, you inadvertently blasted a rather sizable hole through the furnace itself. Repairs will take several decades, but given your assistance against Phantylia, I chose not to pursue the matter."
For a moment, Sunny looked as though his soul had attempted to evacuate his body without permission. The structure he had obliterated in a fit of practical efficiency had apparently been one of the Luofu's most valuable industrial assets, a revelation that cast his earlier confidence in a new and deeply distressing light.
Jing Yuan continued with diplomatic smoothness.
"Though, providing you with Memories deemed useless would be reasonable, though not from the entire Alliance. In addition, you would need to perform some community service to placate the artisans, who remain rather… passionate about their equipment."
Sunny echoed, incredulity sharpening each syllable:
"Community... service?"
The notion of the treacherous Lost From Light volunteering for civic duty was so absurd that it bordered on surreal. He imagined himself handing out pamphlets or repairing public infrastructure and felt a visceral urge to flee the planet entirely.
"When Phantylia attacked, the seals placed upon the Heliobi were destroyed. Some were contained quickly. Others… proved more elusive. They thrive on chaos, after all, and there was no shortage of that."
Sunny's lip curled almost imperceptibly, a reflexive expression of disgust he did not bother to conceal. The memory of that presence inside his skull was not something that lent itself to polite neutrality.
Jing Yuan watched the reaction with quiet interest.
"You resisted possession by a Lord Ravager. That is not a feat one accomplishes through willpower alone. Heliobi infest the nervous system, weave through impulses and emotion, distort perception until the host no longer remembers where they end and the parasite begins. Most victims never realize they have been compromised until it is far too late. At the very least, they aren't usually malicious, and none have been as powerful as Phantylia."
Sunny crossed his arms, irritation sharpening his gaze.
"If you want me to hunt ghosts, just say so."
Jing Yuan's mouth quirked faintly.
"Very well. I would like you to assist in containing the escaped Heliobi with our resident expert in the Ten-Lords Commission, one you may-"
Sunny had tuned him out. His scowl deepened, eyes unfocusing slightly as memory surged forward unbidden.
Phantylia's intrusion had not felt like a simple invasion. It had been intimate in the worst possible sense, a violation that bypassed flesh entirely to claw at the architecture of thought itself. He had felt her curiosity, her amusement, her contempt, all layered atop his own perceptions like oil spilled across clear water. Every nerve had burned with alien intent, every memory suddenly vulnerable to manipulation, as though his mind had been reduced to a house with its doors ripped off the hinges.
And, as everyone knows, one bad experience with a demographic naturally extends to the rest of their kind. So, he was completely fine with exterminating... uh, sealing the Heliobi.
Plus, Memories. How could he say no to that?
He agreed with ill grace, then nudged March with undisguised hope, silently urging her to extract additional concessions.
March tapped her chin thoughtfully with her pinky, eyes bright with possibilities.
"I want to be General for a day! Just like Miss Fu Xuan. I can, right?"
Sunny and Dan Heng experienced identical internal screams, though neither voiced them aloud.
Jing Yuan smiled without hesitation and granted the request as though handing out candy rather than temporary command of a military force. His confidence in March's restraint was almost certainly justified, yet the squandered opportunity for material gain left Sunny feeling personally betrayed.
As Fu Xuan stormed past moments later, issuing orders with renewed ferocity, March watched her with sparkling anticipation while Sunny contemplated the cruel injustice of a universe that rewarded altruism over cunning.