Seventy thousand paces above the trembling continents, the golden crest of the Wind-Storm Roc Da Peng cut through the thin, freezing air like a burning comet.
The faster-than-sound slipstream shrieked against Da Peng’s feathers. But within the protective wind-cutting pocket resting between the roc’s ears, the air was calm and calm. Lin Xiao sat with his round blue body slightly flattened against the bird’s golden plumage, his semi-clear surface glistening with quiet fascination as he stared at the tiny puddle of sparkling azure bubbles resting on the tip of his slime arm.
The gray void flake had dissolved fully. Where ordinary matter and sky qi would have decayed into lifeless static, Lin Xiao’s ancient slime membrane had simply absorbed the negative breakdown. That left behind a faint, sweet aroma reminiscent of sun-ripened orchard fruits and crushed mint leaves.
“Master...” Da Peng’s voice crackled through their mental connection, sounding noticeably strained as the great roc banked hard to avoid a falling cluster of void locusts. “Did that entropic particle just... Disappear into your flesh? Are your spiritual spirit veins intact? Should I dive toward the lower air so the elders can examine you?”
“Examine me for what?” Lin Xiao asked, bubbling with genuine confusion as he retracted the slime arm back into his main mass. “Da Peng, have you ever worried about eating a bowl of shaved ice on a hot summer day? Of course not. You just grab a wooden spoon and dig in before it melts.”
