Ye Lin felt a wave of cold sweep over her as the Guardians of Order step forward from the dimensional rift. They moved without a sound, like ghosts, each step leaving frost upon the freshly formed soil of her world. There were dozens, each holding sword or spear forged from deep black crystal.
"They have no emotion," the small shadow whispered, trembling.
"They are emptiness walking. Their memories have been completely drained."
Ye Lin clenched the bone knife in her hand. It felt warm, radiating a soothing golden glow. She looked at her heartfield around her, feeling a strong connection. She knew she couldn't let them taint her world.
"If they are empty," Ye Lin said, her red eyes burning with resolve,
"then I will fill them."
She stepped forward—not running, but walking calmly toward the shadow army. The butterfly tattoo on her arm glowed brighter, and metallic butterfly wings sprouted on her back—no longer fragile or rusty, but shining with silver-gold light.
"HOW DARING YOU ARE!" one of the Guardians of Order screamed. His voice cracked like shattering ice, betraying a faint shred of suppressed emotion.
They attacked in unison—black crystal blades flew straight at Ye Lin.
Ye Lin did not dodge. She lifted her other hand, where the golden corn seed pulsed. From it, tendrils of golden light shot out—not to strike, but to touch the black blades.
The moment the light touched them, the swords did not shatter. Instead, the black crystal began to glow faintly, and from their surfaces, faint memories appeared: a child playing under the sun, an elderly woman knitting, a warrior raising a sword for the first time. These were the memory fragments drained and turned into part of their weapons.
The Guardians of Order recoiled. They didn't scream, but a strange tremor ran through their shadowy forms. Their movements slowed.
"I will not destroy you," Ye Lin said, her voice echoing across the heartfield.
"I will set you free."
She leapt into the midst of them. Her iron-wings flapped—not as a weapon, but as a shield radiating golden waves. Each pulse struck a Guardian. Their shadows flickered, and clearer memory strands rose from their weapons, drifting into the air.
Those liberated memories—meant to vanish—were absorbed by the heart sprouts under Ye Lin's feet, strengthening her field further. Her power was no longer about absorbing Qi or destruction—it was about reconstructing souls from lost fragments.
"THIS IS A NEW LAW!" the butterfly tattoo declared.
"YOU TAKE WHAT WAS LOST AND RETURN IT!"
The battle became less of a fight and more of a strange liberation ritual. Guardians once robotic and soulless began showing confusion, even fear, as their memories resurfaced and were consumed by Ye Lin's heartfield. Some tried to retreat, but the bone-architecture behind them pulsed, halting their escape.
"He trapped them," the small shadow murmured.
"The Collector locked them in emptiness so no one could resurrect their memories."
Ye Lin felt new energy flow into her from each absorbed memory fragment. It wasn't Qi—it was something subtler, more intimate: the essence of forgotten existence. Her face, once aged, began to rejuvenate slightly. Her white hair now carried a faint golden sheen.
The closest Guardian of Order suddenly dropped his black crystal weapon. His shadow flickered erratically, and from within his chest emerged a small golden corn seed, throbbing softly.
"A seed… of life…" the entity whispered weakly, in a broken voice. Not emotionless, but of someone newly awakened from a long sleep.
But before Ye Lin could reach him, thicker, darker shadow threads sprouted from the bone architecture in the sky. They seized the newly awakened Guardian. He cried out this time with genuine pain—pulled back toward the dimensional rift.
"He… won't let them be free!" screamed the butterfly tattoo.
"Don't let him take it!" The small shadow leapt forward, firing golden light from its palms, trying to sever the threads. But there were too many.
Ye Lin watched the golden seed fall to the earth. She knew she had to save it. It was a true soul fragment—not a mere memory.
With newfound speed, Ye Lin dashed. The other Guardians attacked her. Her body now emanated golden light, and every strike only fed her—attacks absorbed and turned into more memories that flowed into her heartfield.
She seized the golden seed on the ground. Its warmth was familiar—it was the Guardian's core essence—the same as the small shadow's.
"You will not take this!" Ye Lin roared, eyes fixed on the closing dimensional rift.
But from within it came a voice—cold, flat, yet charged with blazing anger:
"THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING, NEW GUARDIAN. YOU HAVE JUST PIQUED MY INTEREST."
With a resounding crack, the rift closed, leaving Ye Lin alone in her glowing heartfield. She held the golden seed of the Guardian she had saved. It felt cold, but pulsed with unmistakable life.
The small shadow approached, its eyes absorbed in the seed.
"That is their core essence," it said.
"Part of a Guardian Soul not yet fully corrupted."
"What will happen to them?" Ye Lin asked, her voice trembling. She imagined the Guardian being returned to emptiness—punished for bearing a sliver of identity.
"They will be purified again," the butterfly tattoo responded, its tone somber.
"The Collector is an expert at extinguishing sparks of soul."
Ye Lin gazed at her heartfield. New sprouts had grown from every transformed illusion. The land had expanded, exuding deeper aromas. It was proof of her power—and a reminder of the burden she carried.
"We can't let this happen again," Ye Lin said.
"There must be a way to stop the Collector."
The small shadow hopped onto her shoulder, pointing at the wooden hut.
"We have to learn more.
Your power has grown, Lin'er, but your knowledge is still limited.
There might be something in the 'true memory' you just built."
Ye Lin walked back to the hut. On the wall, the seventy-nine portraits—now blank looked like empty canvases awaiting new filler. She touched one. Energy flowed through her—not pain this time, but information: faint fragments from the history of former Boundary Guardians, now part of her world.
She saw glimpses: battles in other realms, ancient subterranean rituals, cloaked figures commanding shadow armies. Familiar yet foreign.
"These are not just my memories," Ye Lin whispered.
"These are the memories of fallen Guardians manipulated by the Collector. They're trying to send me a message."
The butterfly tattoo glowed.
"THEY ARE YOUR RESURRECTION.
FAILED GUARDIANS YOU ARE FREEING."
Ye Lin realized she carried a new burden. She wasn't fighting just for herself—but for every fallen Guardian. Each purified memory strengthened her world—and freed a trapped soul.
She stared at the golden seed in her hand. It pulsed, begging to be planted.
"If this seed is the essence of their soul," Ye Lin said,
"then I will plant it here. In my world.
They will become part of this field—and part of my new power."
She dug a small hole near the glowing family photo on the wall—now luminous with life. She planted the seed and covered it with rich earth.
As the seed touched dirt, a powerful tremor shook Ye Lin's inner world. Her surrounding heartfield pulsed in unison. From the planted spot, a new sprout sprang forth—larger and brighter than the rest. Its stalk translucent, with golden light pulsing like a heart inside.
The sprout grew rapidly, piercing the hut's ceiling and soaring upward into the dark-blue sky. Golden branches extended, each budding a transparent heart fruit. Yet these fruits were special—inside each, Ye Lin saw faint shadows of different faces—those of the Guardians she had rescued.
"They have been reborn," the small shadow whispered, its gaze fixed on the sprout.
"Not as slaves to the Collector, but as part of your world."
The butterfly tattoo let out a low hum.
"YOU ARE THEIR NEW FATE MASTER.
THIS IS YOUR NEW DUTY."
Ye Lin felt a wave of power flood over her. With every heartbeat of those transparent heart-fruits, she felt connected to the freed soul essences. She was no longer merely a survivor—she was an architect of souls.
Yet amid this rebirth, a distant voice pierced her consciousness. Not the Collector's voice—but something older, wiser, full of deep sorrow.
"New Guardian… you have awakened what should have remained asleep…"
The voice came from deep within Ye Lin's inner world—from a place beyond even her hut's reach. From beneath the ground.
Around the massive sprout, the rich earth began to crack. Not destructive cracks—but those of revelation. From below, ancient structures emerged—pillars made of luminous roots, supporting Ye Lin's entire world.
"[WORLD ROOTS!]" the butterfly tattoo cried—filled with fear.
"THIS IS THE PRIMAL CORE OF HER INNER WORLD!
THE FOUNDATION ONCE GUARDED BY THE FIRST GUARDIAN!"
The luminous root-pillar pulsed with archaic aura. Intricate engravings glowed on its surface—telling tales unknown to Ye Lin: primordial god battles, forgotten pacts, and a colossal entity sleeping beneath the earth, binding all reality.
"This is not the Collector's doing," the small shadow whispered, its face pale.
"It is older than him. It is… the heart of the cycle itself."
From a crack in the root-pillar, a giant eye opened. Not menacing—but exhausted, filled with immeasurable sorrow.
"Finally… someone has come to see me…" the voice echoed, shaking every atom within Ye Lin's world.
Ye Lin realized she had just opened a Pandora's box much older than she'd ever imagined.
The real battle was not just against the Collector—but against the roots of the cycle itself: a primordial force hidden beneath her world.