Seo's lips twitched slightly as her spiritual radar picked up sixty distinct signatures moving through the Dark Forest. No minor faction would dispatch such a force so casually. Trouble was on its way.
Her companions had already gathered in her chambers, awaiting her decision. Seo sat upon the empress-like chair she had painstakingly crafted over two hours, rubbing her chin as she simulated outcomes in her mind. Most scenarios ended the same way: her domain exposed, endless harassment, and an avalanche of unnecessary complications.
Unacceptable.
If she couldn't eliminate them without risk, then she would make it impossible for them to find her.
The cleansing array she had constructed earlier wasn't just a barrier—it was programmable. Conditions, properties, layered effects. A slow smile spread across her face as inspiration struck.
Mental disruption.
She opened her domain map and began weaving new commands into the formation. Spiritual energy pulsed at her fingertips as lines of light shifted and restructured. Noticing her companions' tense expressions, she expanded the projection so they could see. For once, the mysterious gestures she usually made in thin air became visible—an intricate map glowing with markers that represented the approaching force.
They watched in stunned silence.
When the invaders crossed into a hundred-meter radius of the domain, the effect activated.
One by one, the men faltered.
They paused mid-step, eyes glazing for a brief second—then began wandering aimlessly. Some turned in circles while others walked straight into trees. A few argued, completely unaware they were repeating the same path.
Seo blinked.
Her first attempt at a mental disruption array had worked… almost too well.
Her companions exchanged incredulous looks. Yes, there were masters in the murim capable of crafting such formations but as far as they knew they were legends whose names were spoken with reverence but Seo had implemented one as casually as brewing tea.
She let out a soft laugh."Not everything needs brute force." Seo as said as she looked at their perplexed faces.
She zoomed in on one icon in particular.
Unlike the others, one man resisted. His movements were strained, deliberate. His physique suggested a scout—trained, disciplined, resistant to mental interference. If they had fought directly, he would have escaped and reported everything.
As if proving her point, the scout staggered just beyond the array's effective range. Clarity returned to his eyes. Without hesitation, he pulled out a rope and dragged his disoriented companions to safety. His conclusion was obvious: whatever lay ahead was dangerous and unknown.
Retreat, report then advance later after they were prepare properly.
Seo leaned back in her chair as the last of the spiritual signatures faded.
Relief washed over her. The invaders had no idea what caused the disruption, as far as they knew, it was simply a cursed stretch of forest.
That bought her time.
She exhaled and tilted her head back.
Worrying could wait.
Right now, she wanted snacks. And tea.
After spending time together, Choi and the others had begun to understand Seo's quirks. One particular sign was unmistakable: when she grew hungry, she would stare at the ceiling, a faint giggle escaping her lips while a tiny glimmer of drool gathered at the corner of her mouth.
Ling noticed immediately.
She laughed heartily, startling Su and Bai, then gently wiped the corner of Seo's mouth with a silk cloth. From her storage ring, she retrieved a small table, a tea set, and cookies she had baked during her free time. Soon, the aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the chamber.
When Seo saw the bunny-shaped cookies, something in her shifted, some oh her old habits from her previous life seemed to surface.
Her aloof composure crumbled.
A bright, unguarded smile bloomed across her face as she snatched a cookie and took an eager bite. The world seemed to vanish as she alternated between nibbling cookies and sipping tea, looking suspiciously like a delighted squirrel preparing for winter.
Warmth softened the gazes of those around her.
In moments like these, the fearsome architect of mental arrays disappeared, replaced by someone achingly human.
_ _ _
The next morning, Seo awoke squeezed between the five sisters. They looked so identical in sleep that telling them apart felt impossible. Their peaceful expressions were irresistibly adorable.
She propped herself up and began poking their cheeks.
They stirred.
When she withdrew her hand, they caught her wrist and guided it back—silently demanding more.
The memory of a stray cat she used to feed at the orphanage in her previous life surfaced in her mind. She couldn't resist. She pinched their cheeks again and gently stroked their hair.
"Ahhh… what a way to start the morning," she thought contentedly.
She gathered them into her arms, indulging in their warmth.
Suddenly, Choi appeared at the bedside, pouting fiercely.
She had been the first to form a pact with Seo. In her heart, she believed that position granted exclusive rights to such affection. Watching the five sisters monopolize Seo's attention ignited pure jealousy.
She stomped her foot.
Seo smirked.
"Come here."
Choi needed no further invitation. She leapt forward and buried herself against Seo's chest, clinging like a koala. The five sisters protested and tried prying her away, but she refused to budge.
The room filled with bickering and laughter.
Seo watched them fondly.
This—this chaotic warmth—was a home she was building with her own hands. A sanctuary carved from a dangerous world.
The invaders would return. Of that, she had no doubt.
And when they did, she would be ready.
Because she would never allow anyone to take away something this precious.