The wind rolled gently through the canopy above Dihua Marsh, stirring the reeds in quiet waves. The setting sun gilded the marsh's pools and grasses with bronze, a false stillness in the air, as though the world were holding its breath.
Furina sat on a weather-worn stone ledge, legs drawn to her chest, fingers twining around each other in restless spirals. She had insisted they take a break after the trek from the Domain, and Xiao had said nothing in protest. He didn't seem tired, but something in her voice told him that this moment was important.
He stood a few paces away, arms crossed, facing outward as if keeping watch. But his attention was on her.
"Do you ever think about the people you've failed?" she asked suddenly.
His eyes shifted toward her, but he didn't answer.
"I do," she said. "All the time."
Furina turned her gaze toward the waters below. "Fontaine didn't fall because of Neuvillette, or Focalors, or the prophecy. It fell because its Archon was a farce. Because I—"
She cut herself off, voice cracking.
"I built everything out of performance. I built everything out of fear. I was never meant to be anything more. And now, I'm not even sure I was anything more. Just some fractured dream of a dead god."
Still, Xiao said nothing.
Furina laughed brittlely and briefly. "You should leave me here. I have done enough harm. And you are something real. You battle monsters. You safeguard people. You're not afraid to stand alone in the dark."
She looked up at him now. "I've never done anything without an audience. And even now, when there's no one to clap or cheer—I don't know how to be sincere."
Xiao's head tilted slightly. "Yet here you are."
She blinked.
"No applause," he added. "And still speaking."
Her lips parted, then closed again.
"I've been watching you," he said. "Not as a guardian. I was observing you as a person. You talk more than I prefer. You overthink everything. You posture and joke when you're hurting. But…"
He turned to face her fully.
"You ran into that Domain. You didn't turn back when it showed you your shadow. You came out of it still standing. That's more courage than most gods I've known."
She stared at him.
His expression hadn't softened, but his voice had.
"I have a duty to safeguard them, for they often need someone to watch over them."
Furina opened her mouth to respond.
Xiao's body snapped rigid. He turned sharply, eyes narrowing, one hand already curling near his waist.
"Something's coming."
The marsh had gone utterly quiet. No frogs croaked, and there were no buzzing insects to be heard. Even the breeze died.
Then the water erupted.
A grotesque, semi-humanoid creature surged from the surface, flanked by dripping strands of half-solid ley energy. Its face shimmered with fragments of lost masks. Divine marks flickered across its body like burning glyphs.
"False vessels," it rasped, its voice warped, watery. "Imitations made in fear."
Furina backed up quickly. "Is that—? "
"One of them," Xiao growled, drawing his jade spear.
The creature surged forward.
Xiao met it with a leap, his body vanishing in a blur of emerald streaks. The air exploded where they clashed.
The fight spilled across the marsh, water and mist torn up with every blow. Xiao moved like lightning, his spear a blur of wind and steel. The creature retaliated with long, sweeping strikes that distorted reality itself—tearing gaps in the air that bled illusions and memories.
Furina watched from the bank, her eyes wide. Her hands trembled, not from fear of the creature but from what it meant. Another one. Another fragment.
"You cannot run," the creature hissed as it blocked Xiao's attack with an arm of twisted light. "You carry our name in your skin."
"I carry nothing that is yours," Xiao snarled, driving his spear through the creature's midsection.
It shrieked and exploded into mist, only to reassemble behind him.
Furina gasped.
A family of pilgrims had sheltered in a nearby tree. They were too close to the fighting area.
Xiao turned toward them for a split second.
The creature lunged.
She ran, throwing herself between the creature and the villagers, summoning one of her water-formed assistants mid-leap. The seahorse-shaped Chevalmarin screeched into existence and deflected the blow.
Furina landed on the ground hard. She then rolled and stood again.
"Back away!" she shouted to the villagers. "Run! "
They listened and ran for it while the creature turned toward her.
For the first time, Furina didn't freeze. She stood firm.
Xiao landed beside her.
"You didn't run," he said.
"Didn't have time for that." She smirked.
He almost smiled.
The fight resumed. Each move was more brutal than the next, all while they were trying to take it out.
The creature was learning their pattern as the fight went on.
Xiao gritted his teeth and summoned his karmic energy. Dark cracks began to form along his arms; threads of glowing teal light burning from within. His mask formed with a sharp flash.
"Xiao—" Furina turned toward him. "Don't! "
He said nothing but gritted his teeth under his mask.
He leapt again. Every strike he delivered now came with a trail of karma; each wound inflicted was a piece of pain repaid.
The creature screamed, faltering in its form.
But with every blow, Xiao weakened from the use of his karma.
Furina saw it, his breath coming shorter from how his chest was moving. His balance is fraying.
"Stop—please, stop!" She begged.
The creature launched a final attack.
The creature shattered into shards of memory. The battle was over.
Xiao landed on one knee. Before he could do anything else, he collapsed completely.
Furina rushed to his side.
His mask had broken, fragments crumbling from his face. His breathing was shallow.
"Xiao. Xiao—look at me." She was shaken from all of this.
His eyes fluttered open.
"You were never a fraud to me," he said.
And then he slipped into unconsciousness.
Furina pulled him close, hands shaking.
"No. No, no, stop! No. You stubborn, reckless, impossible man—don't you dare die on me."
She bent over him, hair falling like a curtain, and whispered through tears,
"I didn't ask for this… I need you now. You don't get to disappear on me."
She didn't know how long she stayed there, but she didn't leave his side.
The air felt thinner.
Even after the fight, even after Xiao's collapse, the silence that followed was too absolute. The sky over Dihua Marsh remained cloudless, painted in honey and rose hues, but there was no peace in its warmth. The tension coiling around the tree branches were there.
Furina crouched beside Xiao's unconscious form, her arms trembling as she checked his pulse again. His breathing was shallow, his chest rising in barely perceptible intervals. The karmic backlash had scorched across his veins, glowing faintly beneath the skin, pulsing like a memory that refused to fade.
She pressed a cool palm to his forehead, then smoothed his hair away from his face with a surprising gentleness.
"I should've stopped you," she whispered. "I should've been stronger."
There was no reply, save for only the faint sound of water shifting in the distance.
She looked up toward the marsh, her blue eyes hardening.
"We need shelter," she muttered.
With surprising strength, she hauled Xiao over her shoulder, staggering slightly under the weight. One of her creatures, Mademoiselle Crabaletta, appeared beside her with a bubbling salute, clicking its armored claws helpfully.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Furina muttered. "I'm not built for this. Neither are you. But we've got to move."
She began walking, ignoring the stitch in her side and the shaking of her limbs. Xiao was heavier than he looked. Maybe it was the weight of all that karma.
The safehouse they found was little more than a forgotten stone shrine along the edges of Qingce's outer paths—abandoned, overgrown, but blessedly intact.
Furina laid Xiao down atop a straw mat in the center, brushing aside leaves and broken prayer beads. A few of her assistants lit small lamps around the room with puffs of hydro mist, casting flickering light over the crumbling walls.
She sat beside him, exhaustion overtaking her.
And then, when the last of the adrenaline finally faded, her tears came.
She buried her face in her hands, the weight of everything collapsing inward: her past, her loss of godhood, her buried name, the fragment's voice echoing in her skull—and now, Xiao, broken and fading because he had tried to protect someone he shouldn't have had to.
"I told you to leave me," she murmured. "You idiot."
But there was a tremor in her voice that softened the insult.
"I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you."
A rustling sound was made.
Her head snapped up and turned to her side.
Xiao stirred.
Barely. His eyes remained shut, his lips parted just slightly. But something in his expression shifted, a flicker of pain.
The lamps guttered and then extinguished. All at once, the shrine was plunged into silence.
Furina stood slowly and knew that something was outside.
She could feel it.
It wasn't the same as before. The previous corrupted creatures had been malformed, desperate remnants feeding on memory. But this one, this presence, was different.
She summoned Chevalmarin again, who slithered out through the broken door in silence.
There was a brief pause.
Then a crack of power.
Furina flinched as a shockwave rippled outward, collapsing part of the shrine's outer wall.
She ran outside.
It stood in the courtyard: tall, regal, and grotesque. A humanoid shape built from slivers of masks and broken archon relics, veiled in divine mist. Its face was blank, but its mouth moved in a slow curl of derision.
"You hide him here," it said, voice crystalline and layered. "You protect him as if he were a god."
Furina stood her ground. "He's more than that."
"And yet you let him burn for you."
Furina clenched her fists.
"I didn't ask him to."
"But he chose to," the entity said. "And still, you doubt your worth. How poetic."
"I'm done doubting," she said, summoning a rapier of glowing hydro energy to her side.
The creature's eyes flared.
"You cannot change your shape, little echo."
"Maybe not," she said, raising her blade. "But I can change my story."
It lunged right at her.
They fought in silence.
Furina moved with practiced grace, her footwork fluid from decades of staged fencing; yet here, finally, it meant something. Her blade cut through the rain, parrying the creature's javelin-like limbs with strikes full of weight and fear and resolve.
"You are the hollow throne," the creature hissed, striking her side.
She spun, dodging just in time, the blade slicing across her ribs.
"You are the echo of failure."
"I am Furina." Her voice rose. "And I choose who I become! "
The creature lunged again, and this time she summoned Crabaletta to intercept, buying herself a second.
She dashed forward and drove the rapier through the creature's chest.
It screamed in an outwardly voice.
The creature exploded in a burst of light.
The rain had stopped.
Furina dropped to one knee, gasping.
She was soaked, shivering from the cold rain, but alive.
Behind her, Xiao groaned faintly from inside the shrine.
She stood quickly, stumbling over the stones, and returned to his side.
He was still pale but breathing more evenly.
She knelt beside him.
"It's over," she said softly. "I think."
His eyes opened slowly and he looked at her.
"Did you fight it? "
She nodded.
He looked at her. "Alone?"
"Not alone," she whispered. "With everything you taught me."
He closed his eyes again and whispered "Good."
The night had deepened, and mist coiled through the marsh like smoke from forgotten incense. Xiao lay beneath the shrine's crumbling eaves, breathing raggedly but steadily. Furina stayed by his side, her eyes darting to the door and her senses on high alert for the return of silence or danger.
But there was no more movement. No footsteps were heard. Not even a new enemy.
Just the occasional rustle of branches and the slow dripping of rain off the shattered roof.
She glanced down at Xiao. His brow was furrowed, even in unconsciousness, as though battling something unseen.
"You don't get to die," she whispered, leaning forward slightly. "Not after everything. Not now."
A crackle of energy responded, not from him, but from within her.
Something was stirring.
The remnants of the divine fragment, the creature she had struck down, lingered.
You are not free of us.
Furina winced. It was like trying to tear loose from a dream that clung like dust.
She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. She had survived battles, courtrooms, mockery, and her downfall. She would not let this fragment define her. Not anymore.
She turned back to Xiao and gasped.
A dark miasma was creeping along his arms, coiling like smoke from a broken candle. The karmic scars were glowing again, stronger now, feeding off each other in a loop of backlash.
"No, no, no—don't start again."
She summoned water in her palms and tried to cool his skin. The moment the hydro touched his arm, it hissed, steam rising like pain escaping.
Furina recoiled. Her power couldn't soothe this. Not without risking him further.
She looked at his mask fragments, scattered nearby. They shimmered faintly, echoing the karmic seal Xiao had once called a blessing—and a curse.
"I don't know how to fix this," she admitted aloud. "But I'm not going to leave."
Xiao stirred. His eyes opened—barely.
"Don't… speak," he rasped.
"I will speak, thank you very much," she snapped, too scared to let him close his eyes again. "Someone has to talk. You're always brooding, and I swear, if you fall into some karmic void again—"
His hand twitched.
"Stop… yelling."
She paused.
Then laughed bitterly.
"At least you still know it's me."
She reached out and took his hand.
His fingers were cold.
"Why did you do that?" she asked. "You didn't need to burn yourself out. I was managing it. I was."
His eyes met hers for a second. Then closed.
"You're not alone," he murmured.
"I know that now." Her voice broke. "But you didn't have to prove it like this."
His hand tightened briefly around hers and then loosened again.
The light from the shrine's lamps dimmed.
Xiao's breathing slowed.
"Xiao?"
She shook him.
He didn't respond.
"Xiao!"
She bent low over him, pressing her forehead to his chest, listening for a heartbeat. It was there—thready, but present.
"You stubborn, pride-wrapped idiot," she whispered. "Don't you dare give up now. You told me I was worth saving. You are, too!"
The silence dragged.
Then the dream came.
It was not Furina who entered it, but Xiao.
He stood again at the summit of a mountain that did not exist. The sky bled violet, a thousand stars shattering above him like memory fragments. Ghosts lined the horizon—silent silhouettes, fallen Yaksha, gods turned to mist.
He walked forward.
Each step pulled more of him away. His limbs dimmed, translucent.
"Come," said a voice. "Leave the burden."
A figure stood before him. It had no face, only a mask carved from karmic stone, cracked down the middle.
"You were not meant to carry others," the voice said. "Only to vanish."
He looked at the mask and then at the dark sky. He then looked down and saw her.
Furina.
She was calling for him.
She no longer feels proud or flippant. Just real.
She wasn't reaching for him; she was standing on her own. Yet, her eyes searched the skies. Waiting.
Xiao took one more step forward, and the mountain crumbled beneath him.
He fell—
—and awoke with a gasp.
Furina startled so hard she knocked over a lamp.
He sat up, coughing, the karmic glow flickering away.
She grabbed his shoulders. "Don't do that again."
He blinked. Then nodded faintly.
She stared at him.
He was still pale. The edges of his skin seemed to be fraying. But alive.
"I told you I'd stay," she said, voice shaking.
"You did."
She wiped her face, pretending she hadn't cried. "Well, now you owe me. Big time."
"I'll repay it."
"No, you won't," she said. "That's not how this works."
He looked at her.
"I didn't protect you because I owed you anything," he said. "I did it because you matter."
Furina blinked rapidly.
She then took a firm seat next to him.
And for the first time, she let herself lean into him.
He didn't pull away.
Dawn broke slow and golden through the veil of mist above Qingce's hills, the light delicate and careful Even like the world itself was afraid to move too fast.
Inside the forgotten shrine, the air smelled of moss, old stone, and burnt incense. A few birds chirped distantly, their songs tentative. The chaos of the night before felt like a bruised memory, still pulsing under the skin.
Furina sat beside Xiao, her knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. Her hair was messier than usual, streaked with dried rain and faint traces of blood—none of it hers. Her dress, once pristine, was rumpled and clinging in places it shouldn't. But she didn't care.
Xiao slept, his breath shallow but steady now, his face pale against the dim light but peaceful. There was no sign of the karmic burns, only faint echoes where the glow had once been.
She hadn't moved from his side.
Through the night, she had paced. Had wept. She had sworn at every aspect of her existence. Afterwards, she fell silent. Then begin pacing again.
Now, she sat in silence.
"I was always pretending," she whispered to the air. "Even before Fontaine. Even before the courtroom."
She spoke not to him, but to herself.
She urged herself to be brave. She exhorted herself to be courageous and clever. It's important to remain unwavering. "I thought if I faked it well enough, it would make it real. But I see now..." Her voice wavered. "I was just afraid. I didn't want anyone to know that I didn't know who I was."
She lowered her chin to her arms.
"But when you looked at me last night, you didn't see the version of me that was fake. You saw me."
Silence answered her.
She reached over and placed her fingers lightly on his wrist, as if needing proof again that he was there. That he was still warm.
"I'm going to make the effort worth it," she said.
A slight twitch occurred in his hand.
She froze.
She then leaned forward, closely observing him.
Another twitch.
Then, slowly, his fingers curled. His brows furrowed just slightly.
He was waking.
Her heart jumped into her throat.
"Xiao? " She whispered, terrified to raise her voice.
He groaned softly and turned his head.
"Xiao—hey. I'm here."
His eyelids fluttered, then opened fully, amber irises meeting blue.
He blinked a few times. "Where—? "
"Safe," she said quickly. "We're at an old shrine. I carried you here. Well, me and Crabaletta, but mostly me. You owe me your entire weight in tea."
A flicker of something passed through his eyes. Regret, maybe. Guilt. Then:
"You're unhurt? "
She nodded. "You took the hit."
He exhaled, then slowly tried to sit up. She stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.
"No. You're still recovering."
"I need to—"
"You need to rest," she said firmly. "For once in your immortal, karmic-burdened life, just… stay still."
He obeyed, though his eyes still scanned the room. Ever vigilant.
Furina studied him. Then she spoke, her voice softer.
"I meant what I said, you know. I won't keep running from what I am. Whatever I used to be. I'll face it."
He looked at her.
"You already are."
Her throat tightened.
"I just…" she began. "I've always needed to feel needed. But with you, it's different. You don't ask anything of me. And that makes me want to become a better version of myself."
Xiao's expression remained stoic, but something behind his eyes shifted.
"I don't want you to be more," he said. "I want you to be real."
She blinked rapidly, trying to keep her composure. "That's… perhaps the kindest insult I've ever received."
"I didn't mean it as an insult."
"I know," she said, biting her lip.
For a while, they said nothing.
Then Furina reached for a small flask she'd brought from her pack—a bit of sweetened water with crushed mint and fruit slices floating in it.
She handed it to him without comment.
He took it. Drank it and he returned it to her.
She tucked it away again.
Their hands brushed.
Neither moved.
She broke the silence and asked, "Do you ever dream? "
His answer took a long moment.
"I do," he said. "Sometimes I see myself in the past. Occasionally, I hear unfamiliar voices. And sometimes of silence."
She nodded slowly.
"I used to dream of the sea," she said. "Of standing at the edge of the world and knowing no one was watching. But even that felt like a performance."
She glanced at him.
"But last night, I fought for the first time without trying to be seen. And I think… maybe that's who I want to be."
He watched her for a moment, eyes unreadable.
Then, with effort, he shifted to sit upright. She reached to help him, and this time, he didn't protest.
They sat shoulder to shoulder, silent as the morning light filtered in through broken beams.
"Whatever's coming," Xiao said eventually, "we'll face it."
She looked at him.
"We?"
He didn't turn to her. Just nodded.
Furina let out a shaky breath. "Okay."
They remained that way a while longer, until the soft rustling of the forest around them reminded them of time.
But neither moved to leave.
End of Chapter