Chapter 85 – Flame and Snow

They arrived outside the tower. Lin Wei glanced towards the battlefield, lost in thought.

It was said that the beast tide had been ongoing for six days—the valley entrance was filled with corpses, yet water-element magical beasts continued to pour in from the direction of the Valley of Ice.

Compared to humans, magical beasts were far more sensitive to elemental concentrations. The low-level magical beasts that were common in the Magic World had rapidly advanced under the stimulation of the Valley of Ice, which explained their presence.

He suddenly recalled that many days ago, on his way to the Imperial Capital, he had briefly entered the Central Forest and encountered a pack of Ice Wolves. The knight siblings had also faced mid-level Ice Wolves during that time, which should not have been active at the forest’s edge. Thinking back now, it had been quite perilous—perhaps just a day, or even less, before they arrived in the Central Forest, Asa had passed through there on his way to the Imperial Treasure Vault… His presence had unconsciously stimulated the water-element magical beasts in the Central Forest, causing these abnormal occurrences.

And now, behind this beast tide, Asa’s shadow might still linger. Could it be that the beast tide from the north was meant to delay Adrishig, preventing him from staying away from the Astrology Tower for too long?

Lin Wei suddenly felt a pang of worry for Adrishig’s safety on this journey—the man didn’t seem like the type to obediently head to the Floating Sky Capital.

Forget it… Let that old man deal with his own troubles—as long as he doesn’t die.

Lin Wei leapt onto Sandra’s back and began sparring with Duan Yu in the icy wilderness.

The people who were desperately resisting the beast tide sensed the fluctuations of magic and felt a chill in their hearts. Seeing the enormous beast’s shadow in the sky, they were further alarmed. They immediately thought of the nearby Misty Forest—had something happened to the water-element magical beasts there as well?

Haitie, who had grown accustomed to seeing the two sparring aimlessly during their time at the academy, sighed helplessly and reassured them, “It’s not a magical beast—they’re just sparring. Don’t worry about them.”

From the perspective of the academy’s headmaster, Sylvester wanted to scold them. At a time like this, instead of focusing their energy on the beast tide, they were indulging in a fight. But then he thought about Duan Yu’s magical prowess, which was almost on par with his own, and the fact that the entire Magic Barrier was being maintained by Lin Wei. The headmaster suddenly felt a lack of confidence and, scratching his nose, decided not to say anything.

As the ferocious Dragon Breath clashed with sharp magic, Sandra suddenly rolled to the side, and Lin Wei narrowly dodged Gungnir. Instead of counterattacking, Lin Wei looked directly at Duan Yu.

“Do you feel a sense of familiarity?” he asked.

Duan Yu didn’t understand what he meant by “familiarity.”

The Gate of Contracts appeared behind Duan Yu, and a number of magical beasts attacked him simultaneously. Lin Wei flew around the periphery and continued, “I want to know if you feel something—as if, a long, long time ago, there was a similar scene. I was on a dragon’s back, and you wanted to kill me. Your Gungnir was aimed at my throat…”

He slowed down, and the two stood in a silent standoff. The blade pressed against Lin Wei’s neck, and a cold chill began to seep in.

“Just like this,” he smiled. “A little closer, and my blood would flow.”

The blade pressed against the soft throat. Duan Yu didn’t know what Lin Wei was trying to do; he simply followed along with the man’s words.

His magic wove a deadly net behind Lin Wei, and his blade was but a step away from inflicting a fatal wound. Lin Wei, restrained, was as helpless as a cat held by the scruff of its neck.

Soft and warm…

He frowned, suppressing his slightly hurried breaths, and asked, “Why would I do this to you?”

Lin Wei replied, “You needed to do something important, and I was the biggest obstacle. You had to kill me.”

Lin Wei lowered his voice and continued. His expression was calm, but his voice carried a hint of hoarseness, a strange allure that drew the listener to follow his words, tracing back to a faint glimmer deep within their memories.

“You don’t have this memory, but you might feel a sense of familiarity, as if you’ve done this many, many times before—these things aren’t in your memory, but in your soul.”

Lin Wei watched him closely, afraid to miss even the slightest change in expression.

As Adrishig had said, his description of the Hourglass Room concealed much information. Lin Wei had stayed there, fully awake, for three days using his mental strength, and he felt that besides the Great Prophecy, there was something else—such as the answer to the third question.

Fortunately, his ability to daydream was quite remarkable, a skill honed by Duke’s teaching style of offering only sparse guidance rather than lengthy explanations… Among his endless musings, there was always one that would hit the mark.

Adrishig, or Aisa Yivis, setting aside his eccentric personality, was an inscrutable elder. He guarded the Astrology Tower, and even the entire declining Magic World, drifting through over a thousand years of twilight.

The Hourglass Room was his world, and he wished for it to remain steady and orderly forever. But after a certain upheaval, he finally despaired—what kind of situation would drive him to despair?

At the end of the Dark Age, the dense elements were suppressed, thousands of years of magical achievements were lost, the number of Mages sharply declined, and it became difficult to advance in power. Yet, this hadn’t driven him to despair. He established the Star Tower, compiled the Chronicles of Time, and maintained close ties with Kui Ling and the founders of the Magic Association, ensuring that magic persisted through hardship.

But what if the Floating Sky Capital had fallen, the Astrology Tower had been destroyed, and the remaining forces of the Magic World were annihilated in war, leaving no chance for survival, like a night without a glimmer of dawn… Would he despair?

If he despaired, and decided to return everything to its original state, what would he do with his abilities?

This led Lin Wei to a bold and seemingly absurd suspicion: Adrishig, when faced with irreversible circumstances, decided to reverse time. He had said that turning back time was as difficult as an ant trying to move the largest hourglass, but this man had lived for over a thousand years and possessed extraordinary abilities. Even if he were an ant, he was a strong and capable one, perhaps able to shift the hourglass of time just a fraction—a dozen years, insignificant in the grand scheme of time.

Lin Wei thought that, for some reason, he had received special favor from the Goddess of Fate, allowing him to live an extra lifetime. Perhaps it wasn’t that he had returned to a time before everything began, but rather that the entire world had been turned back. Time had reversed, and he had simply been fortunate enough to retain his memories.

If that were the case, the events that had already happened would leave some traces. He had been reborn once, but the soul power from his previous life had been preserved. This meant that in this reversal of time, the soul remained unchanged—and since the soul was unchanged, some memories engraved into it would not be easily erased.

“So don’t recall. You have an intuition that, in the next moment, I will…” Lin Wei lowered his eyes, his slightly closed lashes and soft, murmuring tone giving him a breathtaking fragility and elusiveness.

“Escape.”

“Yes… I always find a way to escape,” Lin Wei opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow. Using the Great Prophecy, his figure shimmered for a moment, passing through Duan Yu’s formed magic, and then reappeared before him. “My strength is clearly inferior to yours, yet you can never predict what I’ll do next. You feel anxious and helpless, and you just want to catch me.”

Lin Wei thought his method was excellent. If Duan Yu felt a sense of familiarity under his guidance, it would prove that his seemingly absurd suspicion was correct. If not… it wouldn’t disprove it either, and he could test it again later.

However, it seemed he had also been drawn into his own guidance. The figure before him overlapped with the one from his past life, fear and longing blending into a trembling excitement that made his breath quicken, as if he had drunk a cup of icy liquor, the pain of collapse and struggle giving rise to an addictive dependence.

Those dark golden eyes held the cold scrutiny and displeasure he was familiar with, and the cool fingertips pressed against his throat, as if about to choke his neck.

And indeed, just as he had anticipated, he felt a slight tightening at the side of his neck.

But the hand did not continue to tighten. Instead, it exerted an upward force, forcing him to raise his face.

Their gazes inevitably met directly. The sounds of magic clashing and beast roars below suddenly faded away, replaced by a silence like the vast celestial vault on a sleepless night, where the sound of each snowflake falling on the other’s hair could be heard.

“I’m done for. I want him to kill me.” In the midst of this wordless and deadly attraction, Lin Wei felt a cold flame slowly devouring and licking at his entire body. The blood flowing through his pounding heart was a mix of cold and heat, and he thought to himself, “What am I doing…”

He didn’t know that the same flame was silently spreading through the other man’s blood, just as he didn’t realize that his earlier seduction had led in a completely different direction from what he had intended.

“He’s right,” the blond Mage thought in the silent snowfall. “I never know what he’ll do next. I want to catch him, I want to kill him—when his eyes meet mine, my thoughts are never at peace.”

Time flows eternally, but a brief moment can stretch infinitely.

Lin Wei’s body trembled slightly. Countless life-and-death moments flashed through his mind, fear and exhilaration intertwining and surging into his heart, like the first moment of drowning, where there was no escape in the blankness of his mind.

Yes, this is how you are. Isn’t this what you like?—His consciousness split in two. One half was sinking into the Mage’s gaze, while the other half was coldly, almost cruelly, reopening the old scars he had been hiding and refusing to expose.

In the Valley of Wind, you thought Ah Lan’s expressionless march to her death was laughable, but how are you any different? In your past life, you had truly had enough, truly found no meaning in living—what you longed for was to die on the battlefield someday, to end all this tedium.

But the Empire was behind you, and the weight of your entire family rested on your shoulders. You didn’t dare to die.

Yet, every time you brushed past death under the Leader’s command, it felt like true liberation, like you had truly avenged fate—can you honestly say you weren’t addicted?

He was like a skilled executioner, wielding a thin, sharp blade to peel back the seemingly healed wounds, cutting open the tender new skin, and digging out the long-buried rot beneath. The last traces of something hidden and shameful were finally exposed, mocking him, ugly beyond words.

Yes, I admit… The other part of him closed his eyes in helplessness before this cold judgment, despairingly giving up all resistance.

When he opened his eyes again, he lowered his gaze, reached out to grasp Duan Yu’s right wrist, and pulled the hand away from his throat. Then, standing slightly on his toes, he touched the Mage’s pale, thin lips.

Someone like this, yet his lips were soft—He still felt it wasn’t enough, so he cautiously extended the tip of his tongue, gently licking and kissing.

I admit—I’m drawn to him, not just by his appearance or strength, his coldness or gentleness, the way he’s only kind to me… and the way he wants to kill me.

His heart pounded, but he didn’t dare linger. After a moment, he let go and tightly embraced Duan Yu, as if clinging to a floating log in the water. His heart was filled with bitterness, and he buried his face in Duan Yu’s shoulder, letting out a sorrowful, incoherent whimper.

“I’m done for. We’re done for.” He thought to himself, “This is the last time I can hold him. I couldn’t control myself, and now he’ll despise me. We can’t even be friends anymore.”

He desperately absorbed the last bit of warmth, his mind filled with the bleak image of packing his things in the small house on Siren Island, carrying his pillow, and moving next door.

This scene played out in his mind, but it was abruptly interrupted by Duan Yu’s movement.

Duan Yu placed his hand on Lin Wei’s arm, which was tightly wrapped around him, as if to push him away.

Lin Wei sensed this and, before Duan Yu could exert any force, let go on his own, avoiding Duan Yu’s gaze, utterly heartbroken—It’s over. Everything’s over.

But he wasn’t released.

Someone cupped his face, forcing him to meet their gaze. “Look at me.”

The speaker had a handsome yet cold face.

Born into the highest echelons of the Empire, he had seen countless exquisite and luxurious things throughout his life, and encountered many beautiful or handsome faces, but none could compare to the one before him.

“I don’t know why you said those things today, or why you’re so upset.”

Lin Wei, like a prisoner awaiting final judgment, could barely breathe under the gaze of those eyes. His thoughts suddenly wandered, and he found a bit of dark humor in the situation—this guy rarely spoke so much.

“But…” The words trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

Lin Wei looked at him in confusion and saw the man leaning closer.

He closed his eyes and felt the soft warmth of lips against his.

First a brief touch, then a deeper, insistent kiss.

Lin Wei’s back was against Sandra’s neck, with the icy winds of the Far North on either side.

There was no escape.

The light snow, which had been falling in scattered flakes, suddenly grew heavier, swirling in the wind before drifting down.

Sandra, who hadn’t felt any movement on her back for a while, quietly checked with her soul aura—good, they were still there. She hadn’t lost her master.

Reassured, she flew around happily, playing with the snowflakes she was seeing for the first time in her life.