The system's mechanical chime echoed in Idris's mind.
He exhaled softly, satisfied.
It seemed that after resolving the Aranara's affairs, there was little left to trouble Sumeru's rainforest.
The entire region's "main story" had been rewritten by his hand.
If he wanted further system rewards, he would have to travel to the desert—or to another nation altogether.
Still, the final prize made him grin.
The Zhuxian Sword Array.
An array said to require 999 single-handed swords of at least three-star quality, aligned under the control of someone with mastery in sword intent and formation craft.
Most mortal blacksmiths could only forge weapons up to three stars; anything higher—four or five stars—was the stuff of divine relics or spoils from battles against demigods.
Difficult, yes—but the potential was worth it.
"If this formation can 'shatter the heavens'," Idris mused, "then perhaps even Celestia itself isn't beyond reach."
Already, he was planning how to begin collecting the required swords.
While he smiled at the thought, Nahida approached, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
"Grand Sage Idris, what are you smiling about?"
"Nothing much," he replied lightly. "Just remembering something that made me happy."
Satisfied with the vague answer, Nahida changed the subject.
"Why don't we stay here tonight and rest? You said this was supposed to be a vacation, didn't you?"
"Fine by me."
He could use the time to study Aranara's dream-formation more closely—perhaps even learn a thing or two from it.
Still, Nahida's mischievous smile made him feel she had something else in mind.
But he let it go.
After the songs, after the festival's laughter, he spent the day strolling through Vanarana, observing the dreamlike array that bound the realm together.
Before long, he ran into Lumine and Paimon—who were, unsurprisingly, hunting for treasure chests.
"Whoa!" Paimon yelped. "Don't scare us like that! For a second I thought you came to reclaim the Aranara's treasure we found!"
Idris chuckled. "Relax. I'm just wandering. Tell me—when are you heading to your next nation?"
Lumine folded her arms. "What, are you trying to get rid of us already?"
"Not at all," he said with a teasing smile. "But Sumeru's story is basically complete. The other nations have already sent invitations for me to visit. My next duties will likely take me abroad.
If you can't find me here, you might meet me elsewhere—say, your next stop… Fontaine."
"Fontaine?" Lumine's eyes lit up, curiosity rising.
As always, she began asking questions—about Fontaine's people, its Hydro Archon, its technology and turmoil.
Paimon listened intently, occasionally commenting on how much quicker their adventures had gone thanks to Idris's influence.
"Seriously," Paimon said with a grin, "Sumeru would've been way more of a mess without you. You made this whole story progress at lightning speed!"
Lumine nodded. "You've done more good for this country than most will ever realize."
For a moment, the usually detached Grand Sage simply smiled in silence.
Then, recalling something, he turned to her.
"By the way, my reports said you were once called the Captain of the Swordfish II Division back in Inazuma, correct?"
Lumine blinked. "Yes. That was a long time ago. Why?"
"I also heard you had a conflict with one of the Fatui Harbingers—Scaramouche."
He paused. "And that you lost a friend because of him."
Lumine's eyes darkened. "…Yes. Tetsuya. He… used a Delusion until it burned his life away."
Idris's voice turned casual, almost cold. "Then you can consider that debt repaid. I killed Scaramouche not long ago."
Her eyes widened. "You… did?"
"Mm. You could say I had my own reasons. Take it as me settling your score while handling mine."
Lumine lowered her gaze, her voice soft. "…Thank you. Though I would've liked to do it myself."
"Your strength isn't the issue," he said. "It's efficient. I don't leave loose ends."
Paimon pouted. "You could've said that in a less smug way, you know!"
Idris only smirked, already turning his attention back to the flow of dream-energy around them.
The festival lights glimmered like fireflies as the night deepened.
When the celebration ended, Aranara arranged a small house for him to rest in.
When Idris entered, he stopped short.
Sitting gracefully on the chair was a white-haired girl in a soft green-and-white gown—older, taller, and gentler in appearance than before.
The faint light caught her emerald eyes, and her lips curved into a shy yet playful smile.
"Well? How do I look now?"
Her voice was familiar, clear as morning dew.
"…Nahida?" Idris blinked. "You look… older."
She giggled softly. "In Vanarana, the dream's energy lets me absorb a little more power. So I can grow a bit—both in form and strength."
Spinning once, her skirt flared like petals. "Pretty, right?"
Idris gave a faint shrug. "I see you've invested all that energy into growing taller, then."
Her cheeks puffed. "Who told you I was just a pillow, huh? I'll have you know I'm far more useful than that!"
"Sure," he said dryly. "Just a bigger pillow now."
"Ugh—you're impossible!" she huffed, though a laugh slipped through. "You could at least admit I look nice."
"Whatever you say."
He stifled a yawn. Hours of studying the dream array had left him drained.
As he turned toward the bed, Nahida climbed under the blanket with a quiet rustle, her face half-hidden but eyes glinting with mischief.
"I'm just warming the bed," she said quickly. "Like before, remember?"
Idris paused, half amused, half exasperated. "You're remarkably persistent."
"Well, someone has to make sure the great Grand Sage gets proper rest," she said softly. "Don't overthink it."
For a moment, the air between them was warm and calm—no divinity, no duty, just the quiet of a shared peace.
As Idris settled down beside her, the dreamlight shimmered faintly on the walls, weaving together two silhouettes—one of a scholar, one of a god—united by trust, not power.
To read advanced Chapters, head over to p@treon:
patreon.com/nani_kaito