A Waste of Time

Chapter 73: Sunless Drifting

The two girls squared off in the clearing, the burned ground between them still faintly steaming from the clash that had come before. Yue Lan lifted her slender hands to her hair, her expression calm as moonlight. With a single smooth motion, she pulled free a long white Ribbon, letting it unfurl and flutter at her side like a silk serpent. Now her glossy hair was gathered only by a single Jade-Phoenix hairpin, its carved wings catching the morning light.

Opposite her, Jia drew a slow, steady breath. She pressed her palm to the Fire Belt cinched tight around her waist — one of her two Protective Spiritual Treasures. Flames pulsed from the runes stitched into the leather, feeding greedily on her Fire Qi. In the next heartbeat, the belt flared to life, a halo of scorching heat bursting outward in a circular wave that slammed into Yue Lan’s creeping mist and scattered it in a hiss of rising steam.

Ash and smoke swirled at their feet, the last patch of ground between them now cleared — the line drawn, the first challenge answered.

Jia’s eyes narrowed, her fingertips tracing tiny arcs of ember light around her wrists as she readied herself. Across from her, Yue Lan only flicked her Ribbon once — a graceful snap that sent its length coiling and swaying like a waiting serpent in the cold air.

With a graceful wave of her hand, Yue Lan flicked her wrist and set the white Ribbon dancing through the air in smooth, circular arcs. Each loop shimmered with a faint, silvery sheen — the Ribbon seeming to stretch longer and longer with every fluid movement, as if the air itself wove fresh silk into its length.

Her steps followed the Ribbon’s rhythm — light, deliberate, almost like an enchanting dance. Mist coiled from her bare feet and fingertips, drifting outward in ghostly waves that chilled the scorched earth back to slick wet stone. The cold gathered around her like a veil, swirling tighter each time the Ribbon cut its circle through the air.

Jia felt it all — the deepening chill that bit at her skin, the creeping weight of her breath pressing into her lungs. Yue Lan’s focus was absolute, her green eyes locked onto Jia as if the world had narrowed to nothing but the space between them and this ritual of silk, ice, and breath.

The flickering flames at Jia’s waist guttered under the cold before flaring back, answering the encroaching mist with a stubborn, smoldering roar. She dug her heels into the ash, eyes fixed on the dancer before her, ready to meet that elegant threat with searing defiance.

Finally, the moment broke like a coiled spring. Yue Lan’s eyes gleamed as she flicked her wrist, the tip of her Snow Ribbon snapping through the mist like a serpent’s tongue. It darted straight for Jia’s well-toned left thigh, slicing the air with a sharp crack like a whip.

The Ribbon struck the halo of flame guarding Jia’s body — sparks hissed and flicked upward as cold met heat. For a breath, the chill of Yue Lan’s Water Qi pressed through, smothering a small patch of flame and leaving a vulnerable seam in Jia’s defense.

But just as quickly, the Fire Belt around her waist flared hotter, a pulse of flame roaring to life to seal the breach before Yue Lan could push through.

Yue Lan caught the flicker — and smirked, triumphant. This tiny exchange proved her point: she didn’t just hold the advantage in Elemental-Suppression, her Snow Ribbon outclassed Jia’s Spiritual Treasure in every way that mattered. Balanced, flexible — perfect for attack, support, or binding an enemy’s freedom. And Jia’s Fire Belt? Powerful, yes — but purely defensive, and already straining to keep pace.

Ru let out a soft, tight sigh as he watched from behind Daemon. She’s fighting uphill,

he thought, frustration needling at him. Jia’s gift for offense was her pride — Fire and Lightning, fierce and direct — yet here she was, forced into the role of cornered prey against a foe born to restrict and suppress. It’s unfair, he told himself, knuckles whitening around his crossed arms. But that’s the lesson.Beside Daemon, Outer Elder Ping tilted her fan just enough to hide her expression. She gave the boy a sidelong glance, curious to see how he’d react to the subtle checkmate unfolding before him — and found her thoughts snarled when she saw the glimmer of genuine interest and excitement in his eyes, rather than confusion or concern.

Then Daemon turned, catching her stare with a faint, thoughtful smile. “That Yue Lan girl… she’s not a Water Cultivator, is she?”

Ping paused, her fan frozen halfway to her lips. She blinked once, caught off-guard by the question — then slipped back into her composed mask and countered, “Why would you think that?”

Daemon only popped the last piece of sweet from his plate into his mouth, chewing idly as he turned back to the two girls squaring off again — flames and mist swirling in the hush between them. His voice was casual, but his words left Ping’s thoughts spinning.

“Instinct,” he said simply. “Even Ru, who’s usually cold… isn’t that cold.”

Indeed, the next round exploded with an intensity that none among the gathered crowd could have imagined.

Yue Lan’s new sequence of movements was nothing like before — her grace sharpened into something chillingly precise. Each swirling step and flick of the Snow Ribbon seemed to carve cold straight into the bones of everyone watching.

So far, Shen Li and Lin Qinghai had each influenced their surroundings in their own ways during their duels with Ru — stirring the earth, bending the flora. But Yue Lan… Yue Lan transformed the very air.

A hush of dread fell when the first ripple of icy wind swept through the clearing, expanding outward in a pale wave. Villagers shivered and staggered back as snowflakes danced down from a sky that should have held none.

Then came the strike.

From every flick of Yue Lan’s Ribbon, sharp icicles formed midair — cruel darts of frozen Qi launched at Jia from wicked, unpredictable angles. They hammered her flame shield relentlessly, each impact sending out crackles of steam and sparks as cold pressed fire to its limit.

Jia’s shield of flame guttered under the ceaseless hail, each shard of ice hissing as it struck and sapped her strength. Her feet dragged lines through the frost-crusted ground, boots slipping on the thin layer of snow Yue Lan’s power had conjured.

Every breath burned her lungs with biting cold, and every heartbeat forced her to pour more of her dwindling Fire Qi into the belt at her waist — a desperate effort to patch holes in her defense faster than Yue Lan’s merciless ice could tear them open.

Her steps faltered under the relentless pressure, the once-bold flare of flame shrinking to sputtering pockets of heat fighting a losing battle against the storm pressing in. Yet still she stood, jaw clenched, fingers trembling but curled into fists that glowed ember-bright — the only promise that her fire would break before she did.

This was nothing like Ru’s fights with Shen Li or Lin Qinghai — those bouts had been fierce but fair, with the villagers and merchants watching in anxious excitement, ready to cheer either victor. But this?

Now they watched with dread settling heavy in their guts. One look was enough to see it: Jia was drowning in this cold. Even Ru clenched his fists at his sides, forced to brace for what he feared would be a crushing defeat.

All of them braced — except Daemon. And Kirin.

The boy sat forward on the massive talon, a glimmer of mischief dancing behind his calm eyes. Beside him, the Soul-Snatcher Eagle’s razor gaze stayed fixed on the two girls — feathers bristling, as if it too sensed that this storm was far from settled.

Yue Lan flicked her Snow Ribbon in a sharp arc, mist curling around her ankles as she watched the flickering halo of flame struggling to hold. She tilted her chin slightly, voice clear and cold as frostbite.

“You lost.”

From within the battered circle of flame, Jia’s eyes glowed like live embers. Her teeth bared in a defiant snarl as the heat around her pulsed outward, fighting to shove back the encroaching cold.

“I’m just getting started.” she growled.

Chirp.

A single, crisp note — the clear, melodious twitter of a bird — rang out from within the flames. The sound was impossibly out of place in the hush of snow and steam… and yet it resonated deep, cracking the tension like dry twigs underfoot.

The flame coiled around Jia’s waist shifted — yellow-red giving way to a fierce, deeper red, shot through with a blinding thread of bright gold at its heart. The cold hissed and retreated, steam billowing where snow met the sudden blaze.

Beside Daemon, the beauty in the black dress jolted upright so sharply it was as if a ghost had pinched her seat. Her fan clattered from her fingers, mouth falling open as she stared at the girl wreathed in the phoenix flame.

“T-this… Impossible!” she breathed, her voice trembling out into the stunned hush.

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