The front porch of the Seventh Spire was Felix’s holy sanctuary.
It was shaded by the crooked branches of an ancient iron-wood pine whose needles smelled like toasted sap and crisp mountain air. Strung between the tree’s gnarled trunk and a weathered porch post was a wide, comfortably sagging rope hammock woven from double-braided hemp.
Felix stepped out into the morning breeze, holding his cracked obsidian slate in both hands.
Behind him, Lyra Ashford hovered three paces back, moving with the hushed, terrified reverence of an acolyte walking through the inner sanctum of an ancient god.
She had washed the breakfast bowl three times. She had wiped down the leveled pine table until the wood gleamed like polished amber. Now, she stood with her hands clasped tightly before her waist, watching Felix’s every move as if his slippers were weaving the fabric of fate.
"Senior Brother," Lyra said softly, her voice trembling with solemn devotion. "Shall I prepare the morning meditation mats? Or perhaps you wish for this disciple to stand guard while you commune with the Heavenly Dao?"
Felix stopped by the edge of the porch, looking over his shoulder.
"Commune with what?" he asked, scratching his ear. "No. I’m taking a hammock break. Digesting barley takes energy."
Lyra’s breath hitched.
*Digestive meditation!* she realized instantly, nodding to herself with fervent intensity. *He is circulating his inner primordial furnace to transmute the suppressed grains into boundless stellar vitality! He calls it a 'hammock break' to conceal the heaven-defying nature of his technique from the prying eyes of the upper firmament!*
"This disciple shall not allow a single leaf to disturb your rest!" Lyra declared, bowing at a sharp ninety-degree angle.
Felix gave her a slow, baffled look.
"Right," he muttered, shaking his head. "Don't scream if Barnaby starts vibrating again. The cork keeps him quiet."
Felix climbed into the hammock.
The hemp ropes groaned pleasantly under his weight. He adjusted his woven pillow, crossed his ankles, and pressed his right thumb into the center groove of the AetherDeck.
The obsidian surface flickered with amber light.
"Daily dungeon reset," Felix murmured happily. "Let’s see if the devs fixed the loot tables today. If I pull another grey-tier rusty iron nail, I’m leaving a one-star review on the forum."
He tapped the `[A]` button.
The amber screen flashed once, shifting into a charming, pixelated top-down dungeon crawler.
A tiny 8-bit knight wearing an oversized iron helmet appeared in the center of the screen, holding a little gray pixel sword.
Above the knight's head, a simple map revealed three square rooms connected by narrow stone corridors, ending in a massive red skull icon labeled: `[BOSS ROOM: IRON KING'S THRONE]`.
Felix used his left thumb on the slate’s brass directional rocker, steering his little pixel knight down the stone hallway.
***
Three thousand miles to the west, beneath the jagged peaks of the Black Dragon Mountains, reality was violently coming apart at the seams.
Deep underground, sealed beneath nine thousand layers of ancient dragon-bone wards, lay the *Abyssal Catacombs of the Iron King*.
It was one of the continent's most terrifying Class-9 Forbidden Death Zones.
For ten thousand years, ancient scriptures had warned the mortal empires that the Iron King—a prehistoric demonic sovereign forged from cursed star-iron—slumbered within its subterranean throne room, waiting to lead an army of fifty thousand undead revenants to drown Aethelgard in blood.
At this exact moment, an elite expedition from the Imperial War Academy was camped outside the catacomb's outer perimeter.
Three hundred High Masters in gleaming silver armor stood guard, their faces pale, watching their divination compasses spin out of control.
"Grand Patriarch!" an elder screamed, clutching a vibrating crystal orb that spat purple sparks. "The catacomb wards are rupturing! The ancient seal is dissolving from the inside out! The Iron King is awakening! We must sound the continental alarm!"
Inside the subterranean tomb, the Iron King rose from his throne of skulls.
His twelve-foot frame, cast from blackened celestial iron, blazed with dark soul-fire. In his right hand, a massive war-cleaver hummed with enough demonic power to split a floating island in half.
He opened his jaws, preparing to unleash a roar of resurrection that would shatter the mortal firmament.
***
Meanwhile, on Solitude Spire, Felix was frowning at his screen.
"Man, this control latency is awful," Felix grumbled, shifting his hip in the hammock. "The directional pad has at least two hundred milliseconds of stick drift. Turn around, you stupid pixel idiot."
On his screen, the little 8-bit knight had entered Room 2.
Standing in the center of the room was a tiny pixelated boss sprite: a little gray block with two red dots for eyes and a tiny pixel cleaver, labeled `[LVL 5: IRON BOSS]`.
Directly above the boss sprite on the screen was a large, gray pixel boulder balanced on a wooden scaffolding ledge.
Felix noticed an interactive glowing pixel arrow pointing at the scaffolding.
`[Prompt: Press (B) to Interact with Physics Object]`
Felix snorted.
"Classic developer laziness," Felix muttered, tapping the `(B)` button with his thumb. "Why design an elaborate three-phase boss fight when you can just drop environmental props on the boss? Environmental cheese for the win."
On the AetherDeck screen, the little 8-bit knight kicked the wooden scaffolding.
The pixel boulder slipped off the ledge and tumbled downward.
*Plink.*
***
Three thousand miles away, inside the ancient abyssal catacombs, the Iron King’s roar was cut short.
The ceiling did not merely crumble.
The very fabric of dimensional space above the catacombs warped, tore open, and inverted with a sound like tearing silk.
A colossal, mountain-sized monolith of condensed gravitational mass—weighing approximately four hundred billion tons—suddenly materialized directly out of the empty air two miles above the underground cavern.
It fell.
*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*
The impact was not an explosion. It was total, instantaneous atomic erasure.
The Iron King, his five-hundred-year-old cursed war-cleaver, his throne of skulls, and his fifty thousand undead revenants were flattened into a layer of two-dimensional organic paste in less than a ten-thousandth of a second.
The shockwave sheared through the subterranean crust, vaporizing the entire underground mountain range.
Three thousand miles away in the Astral Observatory of the Radiant Dawn Academy, eighty-four high-tier divination orbs simultaneously shattered into fine diamond powder.
Elders collapsed to their knees, blood leaking from their noses, screaming that the *Wrath of the Primeval Void* had struck the mortal plane.
***
On Solitude Spire, the morning breeze gently swayed Felix’s hammock.
The AetherDeck played a cheery, high-pitched digital fanfare.
*Toodle-oo-doo-ding!*
Felix tapped the `(A)` button.
A small, soft pouch of coarse brown paper dropped out of thin air, landing directly on Felix’s stomach with a gentle *plop*.
Felix picked up the paper pouch.
He held it between two fingers and squinted at it under the sunlight.
A floating black text box immediately snapped into view:
【Item: Five-Star Sun-Lotus Cabbage Seed】 【Grade: Ninth-Tier Divine Emperor Herb Seed】 【Source: Extracted from the primordial heart of a crushed ancient star-iron titan.】 【Inspector Note: Cultivated exclusively in the lost gardens of the Primeval Sun God. Consuming one fully grown leaf grants three thousand years of lifespan and purifies all mortal meridians. Sells to the junk vendor for 2 copper coins.】
Felix stared at the seed packet, his expression souring into profound disgust.
"Cabbage seeds," Felix groaned, tossing the pouch onto the porch floorboards where it rolled against Lyra’s boots. "Again. I spend five minutes running a dungeon, cheese the boss, and the game rewards me with salad greens."
He rubbed his eyes and let out a long, weary sigh.
"The drop rates in this game are absolute dog water. What am I supposed to do with a cabbage that takes three months to grow? I don't even have a watering can."
Standing three feet away on the porch, Lyra Ashford looked down at her muddy boots.
The brown paper pouch sat by her toes.
Through the cheap brown paper, a blinding, incandescent pillar of golden celestial light was shooting straight up into the clouds.
The air within ten paces of the seeds instantly grew sweet, smelling like fresh honey and melted sunlight.
Her strained meridians—the very channels that had been agonizingly close to tearing apart—instantly relaxed, absorbing the ambient spiritual mist radiating from the packet.
Lyra’s jaw went slack.
Her vision blurred. Her soul felt as though it were being violently yanked through a vortex of pure enlightenment.
*A... A Ninth-Tier Divine Emperor Herb Seed!* her mind screamed in sheer, unadulterated hysteria.
*The lost Sun-Lotus Cabbage of the Primeval Gods! A single leaf can grant three thousand years of longevity! Entire continental empires have waged century-long wars over half a withered stem!*
*And Senior Brother... casually extracted it from the empty void while lying in a hammock...*
*And he is complaining... that it isn't good enough for his lunch?!*
Lyra slowly sank to her knees once more, her trembling hands hovering inches above the glowing paper packet, terrified that even her mortal breath might desecrate the divine treasure.
"Senior Brother..." she whispered, her voice cracking with awe and terror. "This seed... What... What shall this disciple do with this sacred cosmic artifact?"
Felix yawned, pulling his blanket up to his chin.
"Dig a hole in the dirt by the porch fence and kick some dirt over it," Felix mumbled, closing his eyes. "Water it whenever it rains. I’m taking a forty-minute nap. Don't wake me unless the sky falls."
Lyra bowed until her nose touched the wood.
"This disciple obeys!" she choked out.
She gently lifted the seed packet as if holding an infant dragon, tears streaming down her soot-stained cheeks.
*He gives me a Ninth-Tier Divine Herb to plant as casual chores...* she thought in complete, ecstatic religious surrender.
*I am not just a junior sister.*
*I am the high priestess of a living god.*