Chapter 1222: Master and Fairy’s Aesthetic

Phei looked toward Consort and gave the signal.

The Head Maid understood immediately:

She stepped beyond the hidden entrance and rose into the Dead Winter Realm without acknowledgement, question or visible effort and Consort drifted through the murderous blizzard with her katana resting against one hip and her dark hair streaming behind her. Winds capable of flaying steel screamed across the Titan’s colossal corpse, carrying frost sharp enough to strip ordinary men to bone, yet they touched her only where she permitted them to tease her hair and snap at the hem of her short kimono.

Everything else went around.

Phei watched her cross above the Titan’s frozen brow before slowing over the ancient crown embedded in its skull. The crown resembled the wreckage of an extinct celestial kingdom, its broken prongs climbing through glaciers like mountain peaks while jewels lay entombed beneath frost older than civilizations.

Consort descended upon its highest prong, one leg extended beneath her as her toes touched first, and the rest of her settled so lightly that the ancient metal remained silent.

Phei’s gaze lingered.

He blamed professionalism until the blizzard pressed her kimono against the long line of her thighs, the full curve of her hips and ass and the beautifully narrow waist above them.

Her figure possessed that offensive balance of lean elegance and generous softness that made him suspect Heaven occasionally poured all its craftsmanship into a woman merely to embarrass every lesser creation afterward. Add the katana resting against one hip and that calm, devastating face, and Consort looked capable of inspiring both poetry and an entirely different category of literature respectable cultivators would deny owning until someone searched their spatial rings.

Consort was hot.

There remained no scholarly improvement upon the truth.

Phei tilted his head. "She’s missing something."

"I know."

He turned toward Eira.

The fairy already had both hands raised, thumbs and forefingers framing the distant Head Maid.

She squinted through them with the concentration of an ancient grandmaster refining a peerless technique.

"Long white robes," Eira decided. "With several layers, but light enough to move instead of making her look like she robbed the curtains from an Immortal Palace."

Phei’s eyebrows climbed.

"Increase her height slightly. Make her hair white, perhaps down to her knees." Eira rotated her hands as though rearranging the storm. "A winter hurricane behind her too and the snow should spiral around the crown without touching her, and the robes must move against the wind because Immortal women consider physics beneath them."

Phei stared until she noticed.

"What?" She asked innocently.

"Get out of my head."

"I’m nowhere near your head."

"You just described exactly what I was imagining, Eira."

"Then your aesthetic sense is improving if you were thinking the same thing as me."

"My aesthetic sense has always been excellent."

Eira glanced sideways at him. "That does explain your women; they’re all beauties!"

Phei considered arguing, found no respectable path through that battlefield and nodded. "Fair. Annoyingly fair."

They returned their attention to Consort, somehow forgetting that one of the most suicidal robberies in Legacy history was about to begin because redesigning a terrifying woman into a cultivation heroine had become more important.

"What about an hair ornament," Phei said.

"Jade?"

"That’s too warm, no."

"Pearl?"

"Too ordinary."

Eira pondered. "Ice-crystal phoenix?"

Phei’s eyes brightened. "Now you’re cooking."

"I usually am."

"And the robes can’t completely hide her figure." He suggested.

Eira lowered her hands and regarded him with ancient disappointment. "You lasted twelve seconds."

"Twelve?"

"I was generous."

"That was restraint."

"That was tragic."

Phei pointed toward Consort as though defending a thesis before Heaven’s finest scholars. "If we’re creating an Immortal Lady descending from heaven, there are standards. Flowing white hair and murderous elegance are fine, but if you bury everything and her sinful figure beneath enough silk to upholster a palace, what exactly are the heavens descending for?"

Eira stared at him before giving the matter serious thought. Her eyes travelled down Consort’s body, paused, then climbed again.

"What about her breasts?"

Phei’s head snapped around. "What about them?"

"They might be a little too big for an immortal. She’s lean and has a huge bust, not to mention that ass that is always almost out. Immortal Ladies are supposed to look ethereal. Maybe reduce them."

"No!"

"Master."

"Absolutely fucking not. Dont touch the ass and her boobs... also I like that size and height of hers"

Eira stared.

"Beautiful Immortal women in cultivation novels are always secretly packing generous boobies beneath those long and pure and righteous robes," Phei explained. "You never know because they’re wrapped in seventeen thousand layers of silk until the wedding night Chapter. Then the robes come off and conservation of mass is condemned as demonic scripture."

Eira considered this and shook her head. "No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"Master you see, there’s only one of us who has ever seen genuine Immortal women without their robes."

That stopped him.

Eira smiled sweetly. "Guess which one is it?!"

Phei’s expression suffered immediate betrayal. "Don’t tell me you’ve sneaked around naked Immortal women the same way you sneak around me."

She hummed and turned away.

His eyes widened. "Seriously?"

Eira became fascinated with a nearby glacier.

"So... un, what did you see?" He asked curiously but polite like a kid begging their mother sweets.

"Nothing relevant to tonight’s mission." She said.

"You cannot reveal forbidden heavenly research and suddenly become professional." He argued.

"I just did."

"Share what you saw with me."

"Nope."

"Eira."

"Unless Master promises to give me..."

"We have a deal."

His hand was already extended.

Eira stared at it. "You don’t even know what I was going to ask for."

"I’ll survive."

"What if I wanted to fuck you two whole night?"

His fingers twitched, and Eira burst into laughter. "You little demon. You barely survived my mouth and finger and you’re asking for that?"

Her next word had barely left her when something beneath the Titan woke.

Phei’s amusement vanished.

A groan of ancient mechanisms rolled from the hidden entrance, deep enough to travel through the glaciers before reaching the air. Blue-white radiance poured upward, invading the Dead Winter Realm and staining the basin sapphire. Snow became scattered starlight. Even the Titan’s dead flesh caught enough brilliance to appear faintly alive, as though the corpse had remembered fear.

Then the Coffer emerged outside!

Its enormous dark-gold body floated through the opening with ponderous majesty, celestial seals crawling across its surface in slow patterns. Their radiance waxed and waned like the breathing of something too old to possess lungs.

Even reduced from its true size, the Coffer resembled the sealed heart of a fallen divine dynasty, built during an age when wealth meant Dragon marrow, Realm Cores and resources capable of feeding entire civilizations into transcendence.

The Chained followed:

All eleven rose with it!

IT WAS TIME!