They walked where the sky had depth—a seam of stillness between constellations.Below their steps flowed a river of lightning, the rift's spine laid bare. Here, sound was a courtesy, not a law.
The light of neither realm touched them. Only will and memory did.
Tianxu's robes moved with the rhythm of his aura—calm, deliberate, endless. Yuan's hands rested behind his back, the faint gleam of astral inscriptions winding across his sleeves like living runes.
Tianxu spoke first, nothing wasted."Your disciple is formidable. She forced Renji to learn humility. Few manage that."
Yuan inclined his head, his tone even."A lesson he wears well. He fought as he was raised—to advance, to measure, to bend the field. He is gifted. In my sect, such talent would either be chained—or surrounded by disciples."
A sliver of a smile touched Tianxu's mouth."We prefer Trial to Chain. But I take your meaning."
He studied Yuan with open curiosity."Azure Edge Pavilion—an Upper Realm hegemon?"
"In our continent, yes," Yuan replied. "Across all Astral Vein, we are one mountain among many. But high enough to restrain your realm if required."
Tianxu accepted this without flinch."Then you understand why I did not press this into war. A mortal world alone is dust beneath a heel. But a mortal world threaded to higher planes becomes a crossroads. And crossroads, when trampled, breed calamity."
Silence agreed for Yuan.
"I assumed Earth was empty," Tianxu continued. "It is not. It is connected. Your envoys used it; others will. It is a hinge between planes. Hinges are worth owning—or breaking."
Yuan's voice came quiet and sure."And hinges," he said, "are best turned with a key, not a hammer."
Tianxu inclined his head. "Just so. I will not press terms here. But know this—I will not bleed our youth for vanity, nor will I allow hidden strengths to grow unchecked beyond our horizon."
He turned, golden eyes steady."Let us exchange ledgers instead of blows."
"I will hear your ledger," Yuan said. "And you will hear mine. Then we decide whether to bind this hinge—" his gaze flicked toward the blue curve of Earth "—or weld it shut."
"Agreed."
They walked on, constellations bending like reeds before them, space itself obedient to their thoughts.
Tianxu halted, his expression thoughtful."A proposal. Renji spoke to your disciple without groveling or barking. You did not leash him. You favor his marrow."
He paused, tone shifting."Send nine of his peers—to Azure Edge Pavilion as guest-disciples. Let them learn your mountain's weather. I will send elders to swear peace and collect them in due time."
Yuan's lids lowered in thought.Disciples from another realm within his Pavilion gates. A risk wrapped in opportunity.
The benefits came first—measured, cold. A cohort inside Azure Edge was both barometer and tether. He could read the Dao Realm's pulse directly, not through rumor. And if they trained under Pavilion law, their growth would be shaped by his doctrine, not their own.
Then came the costs. Rival arts. Rival loyalties. Seeds of another world buried in his soil. Unless—
He looked up, decision clear."We will not harbor blades aimed at our heart," Yuan said. "If I accept, they come as guest-disciples, bound by oath and mark. No hidden seals, no blood curses, no far-call commands. They enter with their names; they leave with them."
"And the rift?" Tianxu asked.
"Co-guardianship," Yuan said. "While your cohort trains, both realms appoint watchers. No harvesting of mortal essence. No conscription. No war engines through the hinge. Violations void the accord."
Tianxu's eyes gleamed faintly. "How many are you willing to take?"
"Nine," Yuan said. He let it breathe, then added, "Ten—with Renji."
Tianxu's laugh came low and genuine."You did favor my grandson."
"I favor leverage," Yuan said mildly. "He has it."
"Very well," Tianxu said. "Ten. They will swear by Dao and soul. I will send elders to bind the oaths."
"We will name a time," Yuan added. "One year by Astral Vein reckoning. At its end, we meet again—renew, or break clean."
Tianxu extended a hand."One year."
Yuan took it."One year."
Their grips sealed the space between realms, and for a moment, the cosmos itself bowed to witness.
Below and above, both worlds kept breathing.
On Kailas, the battlefield had softened into a border. The Su guards still held formation, but their auras sat lower, steadier. The wind moved cautiously, like a messenger uncertain which god it served.
Renji approached again, stopping three paces from Su Liana. He was unarmored now, his aura tempered into something patient and measured. Three elders shadowed him at a respectful distance.
"Lady Su," he began, his tone even. "Forgive another intrusion. I meant to ask—your sect, the Azure Edge Pavilion… how far does its reach extend?"
Su Liana regarded him calmly. "Our Pavilion governs the eastern continent of Astral Vein. It stands as the ruling peak among thousands of sects."
"Thousands…" Renji's eyes flickered, impressed despite himself. "And yet, you came to a mortal world?"
"I came because of personal reasons looking for my missing brother," she said. "But my Pavilion sensed the hidden realms months ago. Mortal worlds are rarely our concern, but this anomaly… it pulled at our formation lines. When my elders investigated, they vanished. That led us here."
"So you sought your lost kin," Renji said, quietly.
Su Liana nodded. "And found your world instead."
For a breath, silence lingered—soft, but heavy with understanding.
Renji's gaze drifted toward the horizon where Earth's curve met the stars. "Strange. My own world would drain mortals without a thought, yet you guard them as if they were your own."
Su Liana's voice held neither pride nor defense. "We guard balance. Mortals anchor the flow of qi. A realm that devours its roots will one day starve."
Renji absorbed that, expression unreadable. "Then you will return soon?"
"Yes," Su Liana said. "Once the Dao Lords complete their accord, our mission ends. I have no interest in ruling a mortal plane. My duty lies above."
Renji's lips curved faintly. "A pity. You would have made an intriguing neighbor."
"Neighbors require boundaries," she said evenly. "And respect."
He chuckled softly. "Then I'll hope your master's boundary is kinder than his reputation."
Her gaze sharpened—silver irises glinting under the riftlight. "And I'll hope yours learns restraint before it becomes arrogance again."
Their words met like crossed blades—neither venomous nor soft, simply honest.
Behind them, both entourages exchanged uncertain looks. The air between their leaders was taut, yet somehow… lighter.
For the first time since the rift had opened, conversation—not power—ruled the peak.
Above them, the rift pulsed once—steady, luminous. Somewhere in its spine, two Dao Lords sealed an accord between worlds.
And on the snow below, their heirs—silver and gold—stood not as enemies, but as the first living proof that peace, however fragile, might yet take root between realms.