“Ahem, Bingpo, stop teasing her—she’s crying.” Filo coughed lightly, quick to dodge the age topic.
As their nominal Master, even as a salted fish, coming clean about her age would be embarrassing.
No, super embarrassing.
Everyone assumed Filo was ancient. After all, strength and age usually go hand-in-hand—the older you are, the longer you’ve trained, the higher your level.
Plus, Bingpo knew Filo’s race. The Blood Clan is among the longest-lived races, and a True Ancestor, tagged as an Ultimate Being, might not even age out. In Bingpo’s mind, Filo was at least ten thousand years old.
Chiyan didn’t know Filo was Blood Clan, but she figured Filo’s age had to top theirs. The strongest human, a [Sage], could extend life with crazy skills, and Filo’s dragon-crushing power screamed “King.”
The Spring Spirit, cowering behind Filo, clutched her clothes’ hem with both hands, her big, watery eyes open wide, looking downright pitiful.
Bingpo, seeing this, smacked her lips, sighed helplessly, crossed her arms, and turned her head aside.
“Fine, I’ll stop teasing. But don’t get cocky—Master’s number one spot is mine forever. You? At best, a pet.”
“Pet’s too much! I’m a Spirit, a Spring Spirit!”
The “sheep” and dragon war raged on, but it was milder than before. A lifeform just an hour old with this much smarts? This world’s wild.
For a moment, Filo felt an urge to go explore, but she squashed it fast.
That thought’s too dangerous. Sure, salted fish aren’t shut-ins, but wandering aimlessly guarantees running into all sorts of annoying events (thanks to too many anime, novels, and manga).
If she had to go out, she’d need a solid plan—routes, details, the works. But… ugh, sounds like such a hassle. Later.
Filo stretched lazily, head tilted up. The sky darkened—not night, but rain. And not just rain, a storm.
Drip drip! Drip drip! Drip drip! Drip drip!
Raindrops fell, the first followed by a second, third, fourth, turning into a dense downpour in a breath’s time.
A fierce wind whipped through the forest, leaves rustling rustling rustling, howling like banshees.
“It’s pouring, and I’m all sticky—gross.” Chiyan hugged her arms. As a fire dragon, water stuff bugged her.
High-ranking Blood Clan were similar—they didn’t fear sunlight but still disliked it.
“You guys hurry back. This storm’s just starting. In five minutes, it’ll get worse,” the Spring Spirit murmured, head down, looking at the group.
“It’s gonna get worse? That’s way too gross. Master, let’s go!”
“I actually feel kinda nice, but staying out here’s not great. Let’s head back to dodge the rain,” Bingpo and Chiyan said in unison.
Filo wanted to bail too, but…
She turned to the Spring Spirit, hesitated, then asked, “Wanna come with us to the villa? Just to dodge the rain—I don’t mind.”
Filo, rare for her, invited someone. Bingpo and Chiyan froze, then felt a twinge of jealousy. They’d begged to stay, and now the Spring Spirit got an invite?
Good thing it was just a temporary stay, not a master-apprentice deal, or their “twinge” would’ve been a full-on meltdown.
The Spring Spirit’s jaw dropped at Filo’s invite, but she shook her head.
“Thanks, but I’m a Spring Spirit, tied to the Holy Spring. I can’t leave a 100-meter radius, and a little rain doesn’t bother me.” Despite her words, her tone betrayed a shift in mood.
As an Ultimate Being, Filo sensed the subtle change. Too many skills to keep track of.
Sure, the Spirit was one with the Holy Spring, but with sentience, Filo doubted she’d be unbothered by a storm’s pounding.
Filo stood still, pursed her lips, and raised an arm, doing the one thing she hated most.
[Poking her nose into someone else’s business]
“Blood Thread.”
With Filo’s soft words, countless red threads whooshed from her fingers, shooting straight for her wooden villa.
The threads wrapped around it, gently uprooting the villa without damage and yanking it toward her.
Bang!
The massive villa crashed down 100 meters from the Holy Spring.
“Come in.” Filo, head down, bolted headlong to the villa, flung open the door, and clanged inside.
The three were stunned.
Chiyan and Bingpo recovered slightly faster than the Spring Spirit.
“Where Master goes, I go!” Chiyan yelled, sprinting after her. Bingpo sidled up to the Spring Spirit, standing level, and glanced at her.
The Spirit braced for a snarky jab, cheeks puffed like a cannon loading, ready to fire back.
But…
“Congrats on getting to stay. I worked hard to stick by Master’s side,” Bingpo said, arms crossed. Her tone held a hint of jealousy but plenty of genuine congratulations.
“T-Thanks, but I’m just here to dodge the rain. I’ll leave when it stops.”
“Hmph, you’re already in—think I care? Even if you win Master’s trust, I’m still number one. As number one, no way I’m jealous. Hurry up, get in—the rain’s getting worse!”
Bingpo grabbed the Spirit’s hand, dragging her into the villa.
And so, the forest villa gained an unstable houseguest, and Filo’s salted-fish life sank once again…
Tftc!