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Everyone\'s gaze sharpened with confusion. Who was this mysterious woman?

Could Wang Xiao have been hiding another beauty in the shadows all this time?

In the blink of an eye, the woman\'s form shimmered like a mirage on a scorching desert day.

Her once modest appearance transformed with ethereal grace—golden hair cascading like rivers of sunlight, framing a face as cold and flawless as a winter moon.

"Eveline...?" Wenxi\'s breath caught in her throat, her long lashes fluttering in surprise.

\'You let her out?\' Her gaze flickered toward Wang Xiao\'s broad back, her eyes narrowing in quiet accusation.

Mary, wide-eyed and startled, fumbled with her thoughts.

But Yue and Anran exchanged knowing glances.

They already knew Eveline\'s presence long before this moment; their curiosity now piqued, wondering what sharp words would fall from her lips.

"You may speak in human language..." Wang Xiao sighed, sensing Eveline\'s deliberate use of lofty, incomprehensible phrases.

Ever the magnanimous ruler, he gave her a princely nod, as if bestowing upon her the great privilege of... basic conversation.

Eveline\'s lips curved into a faint, cold smile, her golden eyes narrowing.

When had she even started explaining anything to this fool?

Was he taunting her?

"It\'s fate, fortune, and retribution—all three have entwined," she said, her voice smooth and clear.

Wang Xiao,＼⁠(⁠°⁠o⁠°⁠)⁠／

"You understood that?" Eveline blinked, her icy demeanor cracking with genuine surprise.

Wang Xiao shook his head solemnly, his face as serious as the night sky. "No, but it sounded cool."

"..."

For a fleeting moment, Wang Xiao felt a surge of satisfaction—pretending to understand something grandiose.

So this was why Aurora loved speaking cryptically all the time.

Eveline\'s perfectly arched brow twitched in frustration, dark lines forming at her temples.

Yet, she composed herself with a sigh. "Samsara\'s Knot... that\'s what it\'s called." Her voice softened into a melody, drawing everyone\'s attention. "Beings like me can reincarnate while retaining the pure essence of the soul during the Samsara cycle. We form a soul core, which anchors our consciousness, even after the destruction of our mortal shells."

"Oh," Wang Xiao muttered, his eyes widening in \'genuine\' astonishment this time.

Seeing his baffled look, Eveline\'s eye twitched.

Didn\'t he already know this?

Why the hell was he acting surprised?

She drew a deep, calming breath. "...For other beings who have not yet formed their core, who are still incomplete... they will vanish upon death."

"Mm." Wang Xiao nodded thoughtfully, his gaze now falling upon Mary.

Mary, her delicate brows furrowing, felt a shiver run down her spine.

She still hadn\'t fully grasped what they were talking about, but one thing was clear—Wang Xiao was staring at her now, and that couldn\'t be a good sign.

Why was he looking at her now?

This was the first time she\'d heard any of this mystical nonsense, yet a growing unease filled her, as if she was the only one who\'d missed a critical plot twist in a novel everyone else had already read.

Wang Xiao, of course, had long simplified the vast complexities of power into neat little boxes.

That made things easier to explain—until the boxes exploded

He knew full well that the truth was far more chaotic, like trying to organize a storm into tidy categories.

Take Luna, for example—a \'Demigod\' on paper, sure.

But she wielded abilities that, for brief, terrifying moments, rivaled the might of quasi-immortals like Eveline.

Her \'Eclipse,\' a devastating technique, could flatten entire nations, releasing enough energy to rival a dying star.

But even the most broken abilities had limits.

A Demigod could shake their fists at the heavens, but against a Transcendent like Wang Xiao, it was like trying to blow over a mountain—pointless, unless he felt like being blown over.

So, despite her grand displays of power, Luna was still bound by her rank.

Her brilliance, as dazzling as it was, would eventually fade.

She could burn like the sun all she wanted, but the sun sets eventually, doesn\'t it?

Mary, on the other hand, was a walking paradox.

She straddled the line between mortality and godhood, her strength rivaling that of quasi-immortal beings.

Her domain could envelop entire kingdoms.

Pretty impressive for someone who looked so fragile as if haven\'t seen the sun for ages.

Frostholm had been a witness to her subtle menace when she transformed into a cloud of red granules—each grain a potential weapon or poison, spreading death with an elegance Wang Xiao found almost… beautiful.

Deadly beauty, of course.

The best kind.

Sure, Wang Xiao could replicate such feats on a grander scale, if he felt like it, but even he had to admit—his control wasn\'t as refined as hers. His power?

Massive. His finesse? A little less so.

As Aurora often said, power wasn\'t just about brute strength; it was about mastery. Wang Xiao had to grudgingly admit, as annoying as that was, she had a point.

Each individual\'s domain was an extension of their very existence, as unique and untouchable as the person themselves.

Wang Xiao knew that by wielding dark matter as his primary weapon, he could obliterate immortals if the mood struck him.

But wielding someone else\'s domain?

That was a whole different game.

He wouldn\'t even attempt to challenge Aurora using her own power. Messing with someone\'s domain was like trying to wear their shoes—awkward and a guaranteed misstep.

Domains were complex, deeply woven into the fabric of one\'s being, demanding years, if not centuries, to master.

That\'s why only Deviants—those soul less straight faced beings who had honed their skills over countless cycles in the time-dilated graveyards of gods—could truly perfect them.

And who in their right mind had time for that?

There were still mysteries beyond Wang Xiao\'s comprehension, and none was more perplexing than Mary.

Mary\'s soul was utterly... unremarkable. It was ordinary, indistinct, no different from the countless beings who, upon death, would simply cease to exist, their essence dissipating like smoke in the wind.

Yet, standing opposite her, with equal potential for destruction, was Eveline—a completely different creature.

Eveline\'s soul was anchored by a core, a brilliant beacon that would pull the scattered fragments of her being back into one, ensuring that even in death, she would rise again, her individuality fully intact.

For her, death wasn\'t the end—just a minor inconvenience, like hitting pause on an otherwise eternal existence.

And then, of course, there were the Immortals, whose souls were so powerful, so decentralised, that each fragment could function autonomously, like shards of a celestial gem, radiating their own brilliance.

Wang Xiao had categorized them as \'Immortals\' because, honestly, what else could you call beings who, in the truest sense, could not be killed?

Destroying their physical form was one thing, but trapping their souls?

Now that was the real trick.

Even then, Wang Xiao wasn\'t sure it would work.

The universe had a way of bending the rules for beings like that.

Eveline and Aurora?

They fit neatly into his well-crafted classifications:

Possess a soul core? Quasi-Immortal.

Possess an immortal soul? True Immortal.

Simple. Clean. Logical.

But then there was Mary. And Mary, as usual, defied all logic.

Despite wielding power on par with Eveline\'s, Mary had no soul core, no anchor to tether her existence to the cycle of samsara.

She was a walking paradox, and Wang Xiao found himself wondering if perhaps the soul wasn\'t the best measure of one\'s strength after all.

And then there was Eleanor—a sage by destructive standards, yet on the brink of forming her own soul core.

If she succeeded, she would gain the ability to reincarnate while retaining her essence.

Her ability to wreak havoc, though?

That would stay the same—no fancy upgrades there.

Could he then consider Eleanor a Quasi-Immortal, placing her among beings like Eveline or Luna?

The answer was obvious: no. She wouldn\'t last five minutes against them.