CHAPTER 215: CHAPTER 215: XU KAI’S DEPARTURE

Xu Kai stood silently at the edge of Liora’s base, his tall figure almost blending with the fading hues of twilight. The sky was slowly being swallowed by darkness, and the cool breeze stirred the edges of his coat, but he remained motionless, like a statue carved out of shadow. From a distance, he appeared calm, composed, even peaceful. But within him, a storm was quietly brewing.

His hand slipped into the inner lining of his coat, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of something small and round. Slowly, he pulled it out—a silver-blue sphere, no larger than a plum, crisscrossed with glowing lines that glowed faintly like living veins of light. A teleportation ball. A rare and luxurious item that only those with deep connections to the Spire could ever hope to possess.

Xu Kai stared at it for a moment, his expression unreadable. If Liora had seen it, she would have been stunned. She had received a similar device from Atlas, a gift that marked her bond to the mysterious Spire. For her, it had been a miracle, a mystery she barely understood. But in Xu Kai’s hand, the ball didn’t look extraordinary. It looked familiar. Natural. As though he’d used one a thousand times before.

Without hesitation, he pressed his thumb to the center. The glowing lines brightened, and in a heartbeat, a circle of blue light expanded around his boots. The wind stirred once more, then the air cracked softly, and he vanished.

Above the planet, hidden in the endless folds of space, a ripple spread through the darkness. A faint shimmer pulsed and then cleared, revealing a sleek spacecraft nestled inside a space crack—a dimensional fold invisible to the naked eye. It was perfectly cloaked, undetectable from the outside.

A spark of light marked Xu Kai’s arrival.

He stepped onto the main deck of the ship as if returning home. The interior lights flickered to life, scanning him briefly before settling back into a soft glow. Everything about the ship responded to him without question.

He walked to the pilot’s seat, his boots echoing faintly against the polished metal floor. His face was calm, his posture as straight and composed as ever. With practiced ease, he sat down and began entering a set of precise coordinates into the navigation console. The ship responded instantly. Its engines hummed softly as energy surged through its core, and the vessel once again began to fade, retreating into the safety of the space crack.

Moments later, the stars around him turned into glowing trails, and the ship soared forward into the infinite dark.

Xu Kai remained silent. His eyes stayed fixed on the screen, but he wasn’t really seeing it. His body was calm, but inside him, something stirred.

Liora.

Her face wouldn’t leave his mind.

No matter how fast he traveled, or how far he went, her image stayed. The defiance in her eyes. The quiet strength in her voice. The way she carried the burden of her people without ever asking for help.

He had always admired her strength. But it was more than that now.

He leaned back in his chair and stared out at the rushing stars. For a long time, he didn’t move.

Then, slowly, he stood. He set the ship to autopilot, locking the path, and turned to leave the bridge. His steps were quiet, steady, but something in the way his shoulders dropped hinted at the weight he was carrying.

He walked down the hallway into a quieter chamber—a place meant for rest, for solitude. The door slid shut behind him, and the soft lights dimmed. Shadows crept along the curved walls, stretching across the metallic floor.

He sat down on a padded bench, leaned back, and finally—he let out a breath.

And then, for the first time in years, his expression broke.

He closed his eyes.

And the past returned.

Laughter. Soft. Teasing. Familiar.

"Xu Kai! I swear, you’re like a walking glacier! Can’t you even try to smile?"

The memory played vividly, like a crystal-clear dream. He had been sitting in one of the training rooms in the Spire, focused on sharpening his blade. The scent of clean steel and training oil hung in the air. His movements were precise, mechanical, without pause.

But she had stood in front of him, blocking the light with her playful stance.

Silver hair, shining like the moonlight.

Eyes the color of ice touched by ocean light—bright, deep, and filled with mischief.

She called herself Aeris.

Aeris was everything he wasn’t. Loud, fearless, unpredictable. Where he was cold, she was fire. Where he followed rules, she danced around them. Where he stood alone, she barged into his world like she belonged there.

He had never met anyone like her.

She had broken every protocol, sneaked into every restricted zone just to speak with him. At first, he was annoyed. Confused. Even angry.

But she never backed down.

"Be my boyfriend," she said one day, lying lazily on the training mat like it was her private lounge.

He had looked at her like she was a storm. "No."

"Why not? I’m gorgeous. I’m smart. I’m obviously amazing."

"You’re loud," he said flatly. "And annoying."

She gasped like he’d stabbed her. "You wound me, General Iceblock!"

He had ignored her, returning to his blade.

But she didn’t leave.

She never left.

Slowly, his walls began to crack.

He started watching her when she wasn’t looking. Listening for her footsteps even before she arrived. When she didn’t show up for two days once, he’d gone looking.

She made him feel something he hadn’t felt in years.

Human.

Alive.

Loved.

He remembered the night she kissed him under the glowing garden trees, the air filled with the scent of flowers that only bloomed under starlight. Her fingers had brushed his jaw so gently, like she was scared he would disappear.

"You’re not cold, Xu Kai," she had whispered. "You’re just scared to melt."

And melt he did.

He gave her the part of him no one else had touched. His laughter. His gentleness. His trust.

She never told him her real name. He never asked.

But he suspected the truth.

Only one clan in the Spire bore those silver-white strands and vivid blue eyes.

The Aelaryn Clan.

He knew it. Deep down.

But it didn’t matter to him.

She was Aeris.

His Aeris.

Until the day she vanished.

But no records, no trails, no signs.

She had erased herself completely from his life—like a snowflake that melted before it could be caught.

Xu Kai’s eyes fluttered open.

The room around him was silent, the soft blue light of the spaceship flickering along the walls like a dream fading. But it wasn’t the quiet that pulled him back to reality. It was the image that still lingered in his mind.

Her face.

Aeris.

Except... it wasn’t just her anymore.

It had shifted.

Bit by bit, her features had blurred and softened—until they slowly melted into another face.

Liora’s.

Xu Kai sat up straight, a subtle tremble in his fingers. He clenched his hands tightly until the feeling passed.

It made sense now.

Why he had seen that memory again. Why it had felt so real tonight.

It wasn’t just a dream.

It was triggered—by her.

By Liora.

He exhaled slowly, trying to quiet the storm inside his chest. The thought had come to him before... in pieces. In hints. But he had always brushed it aside.

It couldn’t be.

It was too far-fetched.

Aeris was free-spirited, untouched by duty or fear. She was bold, childlike, radiant. Her smile never hid pain.

But Liora...

Liora carried the weight of survival in her voice. Her strength came not from privilege, but pressure. She bore responsibility like armor—leading people, building from ruins, protecting others while hiding her own weariness. She was a warrior, yes—but one forged in hardship, not playfulness.

Still...

There was no denying it anymore.

That unmistakable spark in their eyes. That boldness. That fierce, stubborn fire.

And the way being near her made him feel again—feel calm, feel alive, feel human. Just like Aeris used to.

At first, he told himself she simply reminded him of Aeris. That was all. That was why he lingered near her. Why he felt at ease in her presence. She made him remember something warm—something he had lost.

He never intended to stay.

Never intended to care.

But slowly, without realizing it, he began watching her more closely. Not with suspicion—but curiosity. He noticed how she built her base, how she selected her structures. They were rare—unique. Designs he had only ever seen in the Spire. Buildings that required knowledge of advanced architecture. Ones a normal outsider shouldn’t have access to.

It piqued his interest.

More than once, he wondered if someone was guiding her.

And still... a part of him—quiet, foolish, hopeful—felt something more.

Something familiar.

Like he was seeing Aeris again.

A different version.

One shaped by pain. One matured by loss. But still... her.

And so, he stayed.

Not to interfere. Not to dig.

But to protect her—from the shadows.

From afar.

And he told himself it was enough.

He didn’t need to ask questions. He didn’t want answers.

He was content to be a silent guardian in the background. Just to see that same spark again in someone else... to feel a trace of what he once had.

Until that moment.

That exact moment when he saw Atlas.