"And from that moment you decided your arsenal must include healing?"
The silkworm's spiritual body coiled and turned toward another presence floating serenely in the depths of the spirit sea. Its eyes fixed on the figure in spectral form—Electrolux.
"Old man," Tianmeng pressed, his mental voice carrying frustration, "aren't you her teacher? Say something! Correct her path before it's too late."
Electrolux's reply came. "We have already discussed this matter at length before. Why repeat the same objections?"
"Because it's still possible to alter the decision!" Tianmeng shot back stubbornly. "The fifth soul ring is a turning point in her growth. If she wastes it on auxiliary support—"
A dismissive wave from Electrolux cut him off, silver-grey eyes glimmering with unfathomable wisdom. "Renxue has weighed her options and spoken of her needs. Her combat ability is not lacking. With my undead magic at her command, her offensive potential far surpasses her peers."
" Beyond that, her grandfather—one of the greatest living swordmasters in this world—has already begun teaching her the way of the blade. And do not forget—her fourth soul skill is a spatial attack of devastating might. Tell me, Tianmeng, with such cards in her hand, does she still need brute force as her sole reliance?"
Qian Renxue's spirit form materialized beside them, her golden hair flowing like a flame in the starlit sea of consciousness. Her purple eyes met Tianmeng's gaze without wavering.
"Do you still have something to add, Tianmeng?" she asked quietly, her voice soft.
The ancient silkworm froze, his immense body shrinking back slightly. After a long silence, he sighed. "Hah… No. Nothing more. You've already decided."
His eyes dimmed, and he lowered his head in resignation.
With that, Qian Renxue allowed her spirit form to dissolve, leaving only ripples behind as she withdrew from the spirit sea.
In the real world, her footsteps finally halted before the psychiatrist's office.
---
Qian Renxue sat quietly in her psychiatrist's office, her eyes fixed on the glass aquarium set against the wall. Within its crystal-clear waters floated a peculiar creature, its delicate body swaying gently as though it were part of a dreamscape itself.
It resembled a seahorse at first glance, but closer inspection revealed its true strangeness. Its elongated, slender body shimmered with iridescent blue scales that reflected the light like fragments of the ocean sky. From its back extended two translucent wings, fragile as butterfly wings yet edged with faint ripples of soul power, that fluttered occasionally even in its sleep.
From both sides of its small, horse-like head sprouted a pair of glowing antennae, casting a soft, warm luminescence across the water. The light was neither blinding nor dim, but carried the comforting glow of a lantern at dusk, as if urging all who looked upon it to close their eyes and surrender to peaceful slumber. Its gills pulsed rhythmically, and its tail, coiled like a spring, occasionally twitched as though it were chasing something in a dream.
This was the Blue Horse Dream, an ocean soul beast seldom seen outside the depths. It was known for being unusually tame, spending most of its long lifespan drifting between coral forests and sunlit shallows, slumbering for days or even weeks at a time.
Despite its rarity, few soul masters sought it. Its abilities, though unique, were largely dismissed.
The first soul skill it normally granted was ability to induce sleep, a soul skill that could be shaken off by any opponent with strong willpower or vigorous soul power, rendering it ineffective in heated battle.
Its second skill was healing through dreams, which restored vitality and even repaired internal injuries… but only if the patient surrendered to deep, defenseless slumber. For most soul masters, the thought of falling asleep on a battlefield or in front of a stranger was no different from courting death.
Because of these limitations, the Blue Horse Dream was not prized as a combat-oriented soul beast. Even among sea soul masters, it was considered a curiosity rather than a prize.
Yet, despite this, the creature had its place in human society. Rumors whispered that the dreams it induced were not ordinary, but touched by a strange serenity. A person who slept near a Blue Horse Dream would wake refreshed, sometimes even claiming they had dreamt of answers to questions plaguing their hearts.
Whether truth or fancy, the rich and powerful of coastal cities often purchased these creatures, keeping them in elaborate aquariums as symbols of wealth—or perhaps secretly hoping for those rumored "good dreams."
And there was some truth buried in the tales. Observers in the ocean had recorded that wherever a Blue Horse Dream drifted into slumber, entire schools of sea soul beasts would soon fall asleep around it, suspended in a tranquil stillness as if the tides themselves had hushed.
Now, one such rare being slept soundly before Qian Renxue, its glowing antennae pulsing faintly in rhythm with her own heartbeat.