Chapter 39: The Pale Embrace

Fourth Floor.

The mist surged like a tide.

Grayish-white fog billowed from all directions, not ordinary mist, but a chilling vapor that carried the stench of decay, seeping deep into one’s very bones. Within its depths, countless pale shadows drifted, like souls drowned in the abyssal sea.

Ghost Orchid had, at some unknown moment, coalesced a mass of mist around herself, sitting as if enthroned.

Before her, the grayish-black book-coffin hovered. Its pages fluttered open, revealing blurred text—fragments of Gentian and Ziyuan’s memories, forcibly stripped away and laid bare before her eyes.

Yet, she merely cast a few indifferent glances, as though idly flipping through a tiresome old magazine.

Gentian gritted her teeth. Those memory fragments assailed her like a relentless tide: a forgotten childhood, nights spent curled alone in a corner, moments where ‘no one would ever come.’ They replayed in her mind, again and again, causing such agony that she could barely breathe.

She abruptly swung her long whip, lashing it with all her might towards Ghost Orchid.

Purple energy tore through the mist, hurtling straight for the grayish-white figure.

Ghost Orchid made no attempt to dodge.

The whip pierced through her body—then through empty air.

The figure dispersed like smoke, only to re-coalesce a short distance away.

“Fight me with real power, if you dare!” Gentian clutched her head, her voice hoarse with pain. “Is there any point in using such despicable tricks?”

Ghost Orchid tilted her head, observing her as one might a petulant child.

“Despicable?” she softly repeated, a hint of confusion in her tone. “I merely… wished to see you both.”

Ziyuan, standing nearby, remained silent.

She stood within her own domain, a faint, dark-golden light barely shielding her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help; she simply couldn’t. Even with her full power, she could only protect herself. If Gentian, a second-rank Flourishing Bloom User, was struggling so much, what could she, a first-rank Novice, possibly do?

Ghost Orchid glanced at her, then waved a hand.

Suddenly, the oppressive pressure weighing down on both of them lessened. Even the book-coffin open before her slowly closed.

“So then,” she said, her voice reverting to its soft, almost coaxing cadence, “would you care to share? Your… experiences of being abandoned? I’m terribly curious~”

She smiled faintly.

But to the two women, that smile was nothing but bone-chilling cold.

Gentian, still reeling from dizziness, propped her head and exploded in a torrent of curses:

“Share? Share my foot! So, after all this, you’re just a witch who loves to pry at others’ wounds? No wonder you fell into depravity! I bet when you were still a magical girl, you must have been—”

Her words were cut short.

Ghost Orchid’s eyes abruptly darkened.

The white phantoms that had been drifting in the mist seemed enraged, emitting piercing shrieks as they swarmed towards Gentian from all directions!

“Screech—”

Gentian swung her long whip, purple light flashing in the mist, shattering most of the扑 white shadows. But before she could even catch her breath, more surged forward from every side.

A white shadow slashed across her arm.

Blood splattered.

Another grazed her cheek.

And yet another sliced her calf.

Gentian staggered backward, the speed of her whip’s swings growing increasingly slow. The wounds were not deep, but they were numerous and dense, as if she had been subjected to the slow agony of countless tiny blades.

She fell to one knee, gasping for air.

“Provocation,” Ghost Orchid’s voice drifted down from above, light and airy. “It won’t work on me.”

She paused, a subtle, unreadable quality entering her tone.

“However, you are forbidden to slander my past self.”

Gentian spat out a mouthful of blood, raising her head, a smile curving her lips.

“You think… you’re the only one with a domain?”

Around her, the deep purple aura still glowed—faint, yet unextinguished.

“My ‘Wound’ domain… is still active. The more damage I take…” She pushed against the ground, attempting to rise. “My attack power…”

Another swarm of white shadows rushed forth.

Gentian’s figure vanished within the mist.

When Ziyuan finally saw her again, she was already on the ground, covered in blood, even the hand clutching her whip trembling.

“Noisy.”

Ghost Orchid rose from her ‘throne’ and walked over.

She stopped beside Ziyuan, extending a hand to gently caress Ziyuan’s cheek. The touch was icy, like the hand of a corpse.

“Compared to this adorable junior next to you,” she said, her voice as soft as if coaxing a child, “you are truly disobedient.”

Ziyuan did not move.

She lowered her eyes, allowing the cold hand to glide across her cheek.

“Just like me,” Ghost Orchid observed, glancing at the magic book in Ziyuan’s hand, tilting her head slightly. “You also have a magic book. Would you like to—”

“Dust to dust.”

Ziyuan’s voice was barely a whisper.

Yet, the gentle, dark-golden light surrounding her suddenly turned fiercely sharp in that instant!

‘Remembrance Domain: Burial.’

Domain Shift Technique—from ‘Tracing’ to ‘Burial,’ from interference to termination. The dark-golden light transformed into countless tiny, sharp blades, shooting towards Ghost Orchid’s position!

The light pierced the grayish-white figure.

But in the very next moment—

The figure dispersed.

It dissolved into a white mist.

Ziyuan’s pupils contracted slightly.

The white mist re-coalesced, and Ghost Orchid stood unharmed a short distance away. Her expression hadn’t even changed; she merely watched Ziyuan, as if observing a child who had made a futile effort.

“Quite clever,” she said. “A pity, it’s useless.”

Ziyuan clenched her jaw.

The light within her domain dimmed. She had given her all—a full-power strike that hadn’t even grazed her opponent’s clothes.

Then, Ghost Orchid raised her hand.

The white shadows once again converged, swarming towards the two women.

Ziyuan closed her eyes, her magic book shielding her vital areas, letting the white shadows tear at her. Her magic power rapidly drained, and her consciousness began to blur.

Gentian lay sprawled nearby, covered in blood, without the strength to even lift her arm.

She closed her eyes, yet a smile of defiant unwillingness still lingered on her lips.

The white shadows lunged.

Ziyuan did not dodge. She no longer had the strength to.

Just as those pale, sharp claws were about to touch them—

“May the blossoming flowers bring auspiciousness and protect you completely.”

A pink-golden light suddenly bloomed before the two women.

The light was warm, radiant, like sunlight streaming in from another world.

Innumerable layers of ethereal flower petals materialized out of thin air, converging into a screen before them—a screen as delicate as a goldfish’s tail fin, yet it repelled all the white shadows the instant they struck.

‘Flower Fan Screen: Protection.’

****

Third Floor West, Elevator and Stairwell.

Lin Mo leaned against the wall, scanning the readers who were still engrossed in their books.

She detected nothing out of the ordinary.

She then carefully sensed the floor above, but it was eerily quiet, without a sound. The unsettling feeling she had experienced earlier had also vanished, as if swallowed by something.

She retracted her gaze, turning her head to look at her side.

Su Xinxin stood beside her, observing the readers on the other side, lost in thought.

After exchanging names and other basic information earlier, the two hadn’t spoken much more.

After all, at a time like this, constant vigilance was paramount; they couldn’t simply sit down and chat.

However, with nothing happening for so long, Lin Mo felt it would be best to say something.

“Hey,” she whispered, “are you hungry?”

Su Xinxin turned to look at her, momentarily startled.

“…Not really.”

“Hmm, I’m a bit hungry,” Lin Mo mumbled softly. “I was planning to go to the new dessert shop on Star River Grand Street after work today, but then this happened.”

Su Xinxin watched her, her lips twitching as if she wanted to smile but held it back.

Lin Mo noticed, blinking. “What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing.” Su Xinxin shook her head. “It’s just… you have a good attitude.”

“What else can I do?” Lin Mo shrugged. “Worrying won’t help. We can’t assist with what’s happening upstairs, and downstairs, it’s just about staying alert, just standing guard here.”

Su Xinxin considered this, then nodded.

Lin Mo glanced at her again, then suddenly lowered her voice to ask, “Are you scared?”

Su Xinxin paused for a second, then nodded softly.

“…A little.”

“That’s normal,” Lin Mo said. “I was scared too, my legs were trembling, the first time I went on a mission.”

Su Xinxin looked at her, seemingly waiting for her to continue.

Lin Mo smiled. “Later, I wasn’t scared anymore. Not that I wasn’t afraid of the ‘Erosion,’ but I knew someone would help me.”

She paused, then added, “If something truly happens later, just stand behind me.”

Su Xinxin was momentarily stunned, then nodded, saying nothing.

Lin Mo looked at her, then suddenly remembered something. “Oh, right, do you want to transform first? If something really happens, you’ll react faster in your transformed state.”

Su Xinxin thought about it, then nodded. “Okay.”

“Go ahead, I’ll guard here and wait for you. Once you’re done transforming, I’ll go.”

Su Xinxin turned and walked a few steps towards the restroom, then stopped, looking back.

Lin Mo was still there, looking down at her phone, a slightly puzzled expression on her face.

She withdrew her gaze and continued walking.

Restroom.

Su Xinxin entered a stall, closed the door, and took a deep breath.

Light erupted.

Her goose-yellow, slightly curly long hair cascaded down, and her light-brown eyes opened. The off-the-shoulder, goose-yellow short dress reappeared on her body, its hem swaying gently in the light.

Pushing open the door, she prepared to return to Lin Mo.

But the moment she stepped out of the restroom—

A white entity stopped directly in front of her.

The creature resembled a bat, yet also some indescribable being, utterly pale, with no eyes, only a mouth split open to its earlobes. It hovered there, motionless, blocking her path.

She moved left, and the creature shifted left. She moved right, and it shifted right. She tried to walk forward, but the entity remained steadfastly in her way.

Su Xinxin was stunned.

She was about to ask Xiao Ming what this thing was.

But just then—

‘Pale Embrace: Burial!’

“Come, let me hold you… let me stay with you…”

A faint female voice surged from all directions, invading her mind.

The words she was about to speak to Xiao Ming seemed to be disrupted by this constantly repeating sound.

This voice was soft, gentle, like a mother lulling her child to sleep. Yet, within that gentleness, an indescribable coldness seeped through.

Numerous grayish-white, translucent tendrils extended from the white creature, coiling around Su Xinxin!

She tried to dodge, but she couldn’t escape.

The tendrils wrapped around her wrists, her ankles, her waist, her neck. They were bone-chillingly cold, as if she were frozen in an ice cellar.

‘Save… save me…’

She screamed in her mind, but no sound seemed to escape.

Several readers were clearly passing by, yet they seemed completely oblivious to her, walking away as if she wasn’t there.

‘Xiao Ming! Mo—’

Before her final thought could finish, the tendrils tightened abruptly.

Her consciousness plunged into a grayish-white void.

Then—

It vanished.

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