Filling the Pit

Musen’s ability to control desires… was a blessing from the goddess.

That is to say, in the past, the goddess had the power to control desires.

He was silent for a moment, his fingers unconsciously tracing the patterns on his sleeve.

If the goddess truly possessed such authority, then throughout the long, endless years of the past, she might have been fully capable of resolving the thorny problem that plagued Aise.

But she had never reached out to help, not even a single hint had she given.

Xia Lun let out a bitter laugh.

She was under no obligation to act—the goddess had never owed them anything, nor was there any reason she had to extend a hand. This understanding was rational and clear, yet it still stirred a trace of inexpressible bitterness deep in his heart.

“Why would that wretched woman help you?”

Aina understood Xia Lun’s thoughts without words; a single look was enough for her to grasp what he was thinking.

“I took you away from her… Aise is our son. She’s probably furious enough to explode,” Aina said with a cold snort. “It would be a miracle if she doesn’t add fuel to the fire—how could she possibly help?”

Well, according to Aina, Aise’s affliction likely wasn’t the goddess’s doing.

For now, Mian’s condition had finally stabilized.

Everyone else stopped disturbing him. After witnessing him turn into that dangerous form, Liliana and the others kept their distance.

Musen’s storybook had been carefully placed on the desk in Mian’s room as a precaution against any unexpected incidents, and also to keep Mian company, making his days ahead less unbearable.

That bald-headed man had spent so long inside the book that he turned out to be surprisingly talkative, having bottled up countless words with no one to share them with.

Liliana and Mo Lini, after all, were girls—there wasn’t much to talk about with them.

When Musen learned that Mian also enjoyed fitness, he was overjoyed.

…

“A… Aina, are you serious? You’re going to donate an entire Demonstone vein to Ollivendor?” Wolund froze for a moment after hearing Aina’s words, as if he couldn’t quite believe his ears.

“Otherwise, what am I supposed to do—let Ollivendor really fall?” Aina’s tone remained flat, as if she were merely commenting on the weather.

“Ah… yes, Lady Aina—oh, Aina…” Even with Wolund’s extensive experience as the principal of Ollivendor, he found himself stumbling over his words, instinctively falling back on an old form of address.

He cautiously studied Aina’s expression; seeing that she wasn’t angry, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Back when he was a child, he had addressed her this way too… though outwardly Aina had shown nothing, he had gotten a thorough thrashing during training.

The news of the drained Demonstone vein had not leaked out—only a few core professors at the academy knew about it.

At the time, Ollivendor had sunk only briefly before Aina forcibly halted it.

Most of the city’s inhabitants were still unaware of what had happened.

The commotion within the academy—whether it was the dragon-shaped signal sent by Enlaisi or the net cast around Aise—

hadn’t actually caused much of a stir.

The teachers and students of Ollivendor had long grown accustomed to all kinds of “accidents”—a professor’s magic experiment going out of control, or a dangerous magical artifact running amok… emergency evacuations were almost a regular occurrence.

And this time, the matter had been kept well-secreted, with no news spreading; the official explanation was merely that a powerful magical construct had gone berserk.

The impact had been successfully minimized.

Aina, with Xia Lun in tow, descended from the edge of Ollivendor and plunged straight into the lake.

Wolund did not hesitate and jumped in after them, the lake water soaking his robes, his wide sleeves floating and drifting in the current… Meanwhile, Aina had raised an invisible barrier around herself and Xia Lun, keeping the water at bay.

Aina glanced at Wolund and frowned. “For someone who’s a principal, you can’t even manage this?”

Wolund rubbed his nose awkwardly. He was no genius of all types of magic like Aina.

Across all of Ollivendor, perhaps only his fire magic could earn a shred of her recognition. Moreover, in Aina’s eyes, he was still just a young man in his forties.

He should have brought Kalinda along, so he wouldn’t be in such a sorry state now.

Xia Lun smiled and took Aina’s hand. Aina, in turn, stopped mocking Wolund and turned her gaze downward.

Compared to what he had seen last time, the Demonstone vein at the bottom of the lake was utterly transformed. The transparent, glowing Demonsense that once held immense magical power had been stripped away, now dull and mostly shattered.

Large areas had caved in, completely flooded by the icy lake water. Even now, murky bubbles occasionally rose from the ruins, gurgling softly. The once magnificent magic arrays around them were now mere remnants, glowing faintly on the lakebed’s rock walls like abandoned relics, reduced to useless decorations.

The tunnels that had been painstakingly carved out beneath were now entirely swallowed by the lake. The fruits of several generations of Xia Lun village’s toil and sacrifice had vanished in an instant—along with the lives that had been lost, as if they had never existed.

Aina’s young face remained calm and expressionless. She slowly raised her hand and pressed it forward into the empty air.

Buzzzzzz—

The surface of the lake trembled. Countless intricate, dazzling magic arrays unfurled in the water like blooming flower crowns of light.

Then, massive, glittering Demonsense stones emerged from within the arrays, raining down into the lakebed as if they cost nothing.

They plunged roughly into the thick silt, filling the gaping holes—crudely straightforward, yet radiating an undeniable, overwhelming power. The precious Demonsense stones shattered upon violent impact, their immense magical energy spilling like blood, surging into the lake water, causing the surrounding magical elements to boil.

Wolund twitched at the corner of his mouth, a flash of pain in his eyes.

These were priceless native Demonsense stones—strategic resources that could spark territorial disputes anywhere in the world—and here Aina was, hurling them heedlessly into the lakebed.

But he clearly had no room to intervene.

In mere moments, the lakebed was already an entirely different sight.

Fresh Demonsense stones filled every depression, radiating a soothing blue glow. The entire lakebed seemed to have been reborn, brimming with vitality.

Aina raised her hand again toward the sky, her brows furrowing slightly, then relaxing a bit.

“What did you just do?” Xia Lun asked curiously.

“Haven’t I been holding up Ollivendor this whole time? I just let go of it,” Aina said, flexing her wrist as if it were a bit sore. “Good—it didn’t sink, and it didn’t float up…”

Xia Lun took Aina’s small hand and began to gently massage it for her.

Of course, Aina’s hand couldn’t actually be sore; she had just given it a casual shake. But she was quite pleased with Xia Lun’s attentiveness.

Aina glanced at Wolund, who was still staring wide-eyed at the Demonsense vein below, oblivious to what was happening beside him.

“Alright, Xia Lun. Let’s go back.”