For a moment, she just held him. Tight. As if grounding herself in the reality that he was still there, still breathing. And for the first time that day, she didn't have to play the composed second-in-command or the fearsome warrior.
Atlas saw it—the real Meyu, the one she rarely let anyone see.
With a rare gentleness, he wrapped his arms around her, returning the embrace. "...Sorry."
Meyu buried her face into his shoulder. "Don't say that."
Atlas exhaled a small chuckle. "Fine. But I won't promise it won't happen again."
She pulled back slightly, glaring at him. "Atlas."
He smirked, squeezing her shoulder. "I will try not to die so often within the course of a month. That's the best you're getting."
Meyu let out something between a laugh and a frustrated sigh before hugging him again, if only for a fleeting moment.
After a pause, she pulled back slightly, searching his eyes. "And what of the child? Lianhua?"
Atlas exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "She's safe. Stayed at Shrouded Peaks. I gave her the choice, and she wanted to stay there rather than follow me into my usual brand of chaos. Can't say I blame her."
Meyu studied him for a moment before nodding. "And? That's not all, is it?"
Atlas hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second, but long enough for Meyu to catch it.
"Elena" he finally said, the name rolling off his tongue like a weight he wasn't ready to drop.
"A lifeless woman."
Meyu frowned. "Who?"
Atlas chuckled dryly. "Someone I made a stupid gamble on. Thought I could break through to her, wake her up from whatever shell of existence she was stuck in. Turns out, I might not be as good at reading people as I thought."
Meyu raised an eyebrow. "That's a first."
"Yeah, well" Atlas shrugged.
"Turns out, not everyone's looking to be saved."
Meyu pulled back slightly, searching Atlas's eyes. "What did you bet on?"
Atlas sighed. "Three things. First, that she could find her purpose through Lianhua. Second, if she didn't, Master Daokan would kill her himself—he promised her that much."
Meyu's expression hardened. "And the third?"
Atlas scratched his cheek. "Uh… I may or may not have told her I'd find her lost sibling."
Meyu narrowed her eyes. "You don't even know her real origin..do you?"
Atlas gave her a sheepish grin. "Yup. That's why it was a stupid gamble."
Meyu let out a sharp breath, looking both concerned and slightly irritated.
"Atlas… why do you do this?"
Atlas shrugged. "Because someone has to. And if I get it right, sometimes… just sometimes… people actually find a reason to live."
Atlas then pats Meyu's head "Even if I do fail in finding her sibling, I'm hoping that she would have already found the purpose and love she once lost."
Later that evening, Atlas found himself standing in front of the strange chalkboard that had become the symbol of mystery in the sect.
"Alright" he said, arms crossed. "Explain."
Layla, standing beside him, grinned wickedly. "Oh? The great Atlas Ryland doesn't know something?"
Meyu was already laughing.
Atlas narrowed his eyes. "I feel like you're mocking me."
"Wow" Layla deadpanned. "That perception of yours is truly unmatched."
Atlas scowled. "You know I can see through people, not…whatever this is!"
Layla sighed dramatically. "You see, Atlas, this—" she gestured at the board "—is called writing."
Meyu had to physically turn away to stop herself from collapsing into laughter.
Atlas glared at them. "I hate both of you."
But even as he said it, his mind was already moving ahead. This chalkboard—this supposed Western technology—was something he had underestimated. Layla, smug as she was, had thought the same thing he did. This was dangerous.
He exhaled and crossed his arms. "Alright, fine. But if this thing is as valuable as I think it is, what's the plan if the Emperor finds out? Even if it's not through Jian Ren?"
Layla's smirk faded just a fraction. "I was wondering when you'd ask that."
Meyu leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "We don't have a plan. Yet."
Atlas scoffed. "Yet. Fantastic. You do realize that if he decides this little sect has something he wants, we're all screwed, right?"
Layla shrugged. "Then I guess we better figure it out fast, huh?"
To Atlas' genuine surprise, he raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in his gaze. "You don't know it yet? You're the leader, no? I even heard from the disciples around here how you won the battle against the Crimson Serpent and only almost lost to Shen Mu—if not for Master Dao stepping in. But still."
Layla exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "That's exactly why it's hard, Atlas. It's not about winning fights. It's about what comes after. You can't just punch a problem and hope it disappears. The moment the Emperor decides he wants something, it doesn't matter how many battles you've won."
Atlas, his curiosity piqued, tilted his head. "Alright, but what if the Emperor finds out not just about Silver Lotus, but also its connection to Ryl Trading? And worse—Shrouded Peaks? What then?"
Layla's smirk disappeared entirely. "Then we have a much bigger problem than just defending a sect."
She met his gaze evenly. "If he finds out, we're no longer just a sect with a powerful merchant backing us. We become a threat to imperial control. Ryl Trading already disrupts his grip on the economy. Shrouded Peaks holds power that even his armies don't fully understand. If he connects the dots…"
She inhaled sharply. "Then he won't just send spies or pressure nobles. He'll send armies."
Layla who has been making plans in her mental note has already started for weeks now on how to handle this. It's not easy to go against an army of thousands with just hundreds especially a sect that's recovering. Her plans is slowly taking form in her head as she looks at Atlas who was also in deep thought.
Atlas realising this, sets up his own plans now. One that will come in fruition in time.
As the night settled over the sect, the Copper and Silver-tier disciples began retreating to their quarters. Among them were familiar names—Han Zhu, the farmer who had taken his first steps into martial arts, and Ren Shi, a former city guard who had joined seeking purpose beyond patrolling streets.
Atlas, moving like a shadow through the halls, intercepted them one by one.
Han Zhu was the first. The man had a strong build from years of working the fields, but his posture still lacked the sharpness of a trained warrior. He paused as Atlas approached him, brow furrowed. "Merchant Ryland? Something you need?"
Atlas grinned, offering him a small pouch. "Consider it a gift. Good food, a bit of coin for necessities, and—more importantly—a request."
Han Zhu hesitated before accepting the pouch. "And what would that be?"
"I want you to keep an eye on someone for me. Jian Ren discreetly."
Atlas' voice was calm, but there was an undeniable weight behind it. "You're observant. You see things others don't. I need that."
Han Zhu shifted, thoughtful. "And if I say no?"
Atlas chuckled. "Then enjoy the food and consider it a friendly donation."
He patted the farmer on the shoulder before stepping past him. "But I think you're curious enough to pay attention either way."
Han Zhu watched him go, gripping the pouch tightly.
Next was Ren Shi. Unlike Han Zhu, the former guard's stance was always firm, disciplined. He wasn't as easily swayed. When Atlas found him near the barracks, he was sharpening his blade.
"You come to test my loyalty?" Ren Shi asked, not looking up.
"Nah, that's boring." Atlas leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.
"I'm just here to offer a job. The kind that pays well."
Ren Shi snorted. "I left the city guard because I was tired of taking bribes."
Atlas smirked. "Good thing this isn't a bribe then. It's an opportunity."
He tossed Ren Shi a small token marked with the insignia of Ryl Trading. "Keep an eye on Jian Ren. You're sharp, experienced—you'll notice if he does anything strange."
Ren Shi examined the token, rolling it between his fingers. "And what do I get in return?"
Atlas' grin widened. "You've got ambition, Ren Shi. You don't want to be just another fighter in a sect—you want influence. Stick with me, and I'll make sure you get it."
Ren Shi studied him for a long moment before slipping the token into his sleeve. "Fine. But if I find out you're playing me, merchant, I'll be the first to cut you down."
Atlas clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit. Now get some sleep. Big things are coming."
Far away, in a dimly lit chamber, a man worked with unrelenting focus. His hands, covered in soot and metal dust, moved with practiced precision. Pieces of metal were connected, fused, reshaped.
Sparks flew, bright, sharp, alive.
Something ignited—energy, raw and untamed, crackled between metal. A pulse of something new filled the space, illuminating the dim room for a single moment.
Then, as the last spark faded, the man stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow.
And with a gleam in his eye, he whispered one word.
"YES!"