Despite being mere strangers to each other, Sang still felt a deep reluctance when Snow Hill departed that day. Part of it was genuine reluctance, but another part stemmed from his longing for freedom—he missed the outside world a little too.
Right before Snow Hill left, the boy couldn’t hold back. Under the shocked gazes of the blood clan maids, he once again swung his sword at her.
Unlike the first time their blades had clashed, he no longer harbored any illusions of defeating her. Forcing her to draw her sword would be victory enough.
Snow Hill, draw your sword!
But no.
The ice-blue figure stood alone like a solitary flower, unmoving. With a slight sidestep, she evaded the boy’s attack—just like before. She extended a single finger and pressed it to his forehead.
Towering at five-foot-eleven over Sang’s five-foot-three frame, she looked down on him with the proud gaze of a lofty hero.
Even at the very end, Snow Hill never asked for Sang’s name. The moment the main hall’s doors closed, the distance between them remained twenty meters—a gulf as vast as the space between a mountain’s base and its peak.
Sang felt dejected about this for quite some time.
…
After Snow Hill’s departure, not only did Sang not neglect his sword training; he threw himself into it with even greater focus. He built up not just his muscle strength but also honed his techniques.
Brute force couldn’t produce miracles.
At least not against Snow Hill.
Sang had far too much time on his hands. In a fit of madness, he even invented his own style of acrobatic swordsmanship and roped Lusana into sparring with him.
Yes, that’s right. Aisha Hodhua was just an average fighter among the maids, but Lusana had received some knight training as a child, which made her a suitable sparring partner.
As for the results of their spars…
Sang utterly crushed Lusana. He barely had time to feel smug before a wave of helplessness washed over him. This was the kind of overwhelming dominance a transmigrator should have. It proved he wasn’t too weak after all—some blood race members were simply too strong.
Lusana came from a noble background herself, apparently from a declining viscount family. To curry favor with the Cape family, her relatives had sent her to the Heavenly Key a few years before Aisha Hodhua. She was probably not yet a hundred years old and looked like an eighteen-year-old girl.
“You’re really strange. Are you truly one of those legendary Abandoned Child? Aren’t Abandoned Child supposed to be weak, with most dying in infancy? How did you not only survive to fourteen but grow so strong?” Lusana voiced the doubts shared by the other maids living in the Heavenly Key.
Sang scratched his head, admitting he was puzzled too. “I don’t know… Ever since I was old enough to understand things, I’ve noticed I was different. But I kept it hidden to avoid trouble.”
He wasn’t stupid. He had a hunch it had something to do with being a transmigrator, but he sure wasn’t going to say that out loud.
In the Heavenly Key, the only person he truly trusted was Aisha Hodhua. But the girl was too naive—she might let something slip if pressed. For now, this secret had to stay buried deep inside him.
Lusana and the other blood clan maids tentatively accepted his explanation.
As the calendar pages tore away one by one, time slipped into mid-December before he knew it. Snow Hill had been gone for half a month now. By the journey’s pace, she was probably halfway there.
In many unguarded moments, an ice-blue, aloof silhouette would flash through Sang’s mind.
Meanwhile…
From time to time, Sang found himself lost in a strange daze. Ever since that near-death incident, the True Ancestor had entered another calm phase. He still spent his nights chatting with her, playing chess, and spacing out—the same routine day after day. In those moments, he sometimes forgot her vicious, bloodthirsty side. He was starting to get a little too comfortable in the Heavenly Key’s eternal spring-like bliss.
No, no, no!
Sang reminded himself to stay sharp. He couldn’t let himself sink in. He had to keep remembering he was an undercover agent planted here by the Hunting Organization. He couldn’t be fooled by her facade—who knew when she might snap and try to kill him again?
Besides, Sang yearned for freedom. There were people he desperately wanted to reunite with. He had no intention of being locked away here forever.
Sister Lilian, Luna, and Adolf—five months had passed. Who knew how they were doing now?
…
“Hey, Little Bug, why do you want to learn swordsmanship anyway?”
It was another frigid, biting winter night.
Though the Earthly Pavilion in the Heavenly Key enjoyed spring-like weather year-round, the Heavenly Pavilion was different. Its climate mirrored the outside world almost exactly—in fact, it was even more extreme, with hotter summers and colder winters.
Well… it was a thousand meters up in the sky, after all.
At that moment, Sang was playing Flying Chess with the True Ancestor. She tossed the dice casually while asking offhandedly.
Yes.
You read that right: Flying Chess.
Against the True Ancestor’s near-overwhelming intellect, Sang’s little tricks meant nothing. Forget Chinese Chess or Go—even Beast Battle Chess was pointless now. Only Flying Chess, which relied purely on luck, offered any fun.
Everything Sang said to the True Ancestor was a lie, not a word of truth. After all, she’d let slip last time that she could indeed read people’s minds—but not his, since he lacked a channel. So he replied, “No real reason. Life in the Heavenly Key is just too boring. I can’t stick by your side twenty-four-seven… By the way, what do you even do during the day?”
Sang always came to the Heavenly Pavilion at night, so he genuinely had no idea what she did during daylight hours.
The black-haired woman pondered for a moment, then smiled freely. “Little Bug, you’ve only been in the Heavenly Key for a few months, and you’re already fed up? Time stretches on forever~ As for what I do during the day? Mostly napping—what the common folk call sleeping.”
Sang had no clue how many years this woman had lived, but just imagining an immortal existence confined eternally to the Heavenly Key sent chills down his spine.
“Isn’t napping the same as long sleep?” Sang asked curiously.
The True Ancestor nodded with a lazy smile. “Of course not~ Every few decades or a century or so, I get bored and choose long sleep. Each time, it’s for decades on end.”
“Why not go explore the outside world?”
“Little Bug, I’m not telling you.” With those words, the True Ancestor tossed a wooden die onto the floor. It rolled precisely to a 1.
Her black piece advanced one space, devoured Sang’s white piece, and sent it back to the start.
Sang frowned tightly at the sight. He seriously suspected she was using superpowers. It was ridiculous—why couldn’t he even win at Flying Chess?
