Earlier…
Before the Pillar of Creation, a silver-haired girl gazed up at the heavily damaged Creation Engine, strands of vivid crimson shimmering in her hair. A small, round trotter rolled gleefully in the snow at her feet, soon unearthing a golden treasure chest.
Anming couldn't help but mentally critique Stelle: If this were that blond traveler from another world, this place would've been stripped bare already.
Stelle's too shackled by her "honorable Trailblazer" image—skipping treasure chests? Unforgivable!
"Finally, we meet, Mr. Anming."
Topaz turned, her lips curling into a smile as iridescent eyes lit with intrigue. "Surprised it's me instead of the Family?"
"The Family found it… impolitic to come personally," she chuckled, hinting at the Oak Family's reluctant maneuvering. "They outsourced delivery to the IPC."
Jarilo-VI's astral charts—scarred by Akivili's Trailblaze and later buried in corporate archives—had drawn the Interastral Peace Corporation's gaze centuries before the Stellaron's corruption. But a blighted world besieged by Antimatter Legion offered no profit… until now.
As the IPC's current envoy, Topaz knew of Anming not through rumors, but from his absurd corporate dossier: a man who'd once spent billions to stage his own funeral, demanding the Stoneheart Ten attend in full armored regalia. Deeper files were sealed by the Xianzhou Alliance and Family, leaving only whispers—and a directive from Diamond himself: Do not oppose him.
To Topaz, this was an investment opportunity.
She'd felt it upon arriving—the lingering sword aura around the Pillar, sharp enough to scramble IPC comms. A battle had raged here, unseen but unforgettable.
"The Family's end of the bargain." She handed him an azure case etched with musical motifs, reminiscent of that infuriating Herrscher of Dominance and her seven-layer toughness meter.
"My thanks." Anming accepted the package. Worth every credit… though maybe I'll sweeten Herta with some fanfic later.
"Jarilo is beautiful," Topaz remarked, eyes glinting. "But you didn't summon me just for deliveries."
"Straight to business, then." Anming outlined his plan—not through the Astral Express, but via his guarantee. Belobog needed IPC aid… but on its own terms.
"Assistance without strings?" Topaz chuckled, scratching Numby's head. A holographic contract materialized, its terms suspiciously generous for the IPC. Only Anming's signature was required to reconnect Belobog to intergalactic trade lanes.
"You may not realize…" Golden light flickered as she raised her hand. A mark glowed on Anming's brow—the Amber Lord's seal. "Qliphoth himself vouches for you."
The layers of Anming's identity stacked like mythic buffs: Herta Space Station ally, Trailblazer, Preservation's chosen, near-Emanator combat prowess. The IPC would gladly burn Jarilo's debts to invest in him.
"I'll visit Lady Bronya soon—under discreet terms." Topaz shook his hand. "Pleasure doing business."
That Night, Everwinter Hill
Under emerald auroras, Anming led Firefly to the edge of the snowfield. The dream bubble in his hand dissolved into a shimmering curtain, unveiling a starscape where dawn flirted with twilight.
A melody hummed in the wind—cold, yet Firefly felt only warmth as starlight danced in her eyes.
Anming stepped back, knelt, and opened a velvet box.
"Ms. Firefly."
The rising sun ignited a meteor shower painting the sky like divine brushstrokes.
"Will you be my bride?"
Tears blurred the cosmos into kaleidoscopic light as she whispered:
"Always."