Wei Qing's tone was relaxed, but his eyes left no room for argument.
No joke—whatever else he was, he was now a bona fide Trailblazer.
And he was supposed to just stand there and let someone execute the Express's navigator right in front of him?
He stepped forward, subtly placing himself between Granholm and Acheron, as if to preempt certain "options" she might be considering.
The atmosphere sharpened again—tight as a drawn bowstring—like the two of them might clash the moment either opened their mouth.
"You won't get that chance," Wei Qing said with a faint smile, turning his gaze toward Granholm, whose aura was growing weaker by the second. "This old senior's resolve is admirable. I believe he'll succeed."
Acheron merely watched Wei Qing, as if she'd expected exactly that answer.
"Understandable," she said evenly. "But if the situation spirals out of control, I won't hesitate."
Wei Qing wasn't particularly worried.
Honestly, once she'd clearly acknowledged he was stronger, and could still say something like that so calmly to his face—only Acheron could pull that off.
If no one had been rewriting history for fun, then this Trailblaze should have ended with Granholm's success.
After all, in the story Wei Qing knew, this very Granholm was supposed to die by a kind of assisted release.
Acheron didn't argue. She simply stood there.
Her silence itself was a stance: she didn't mind waiting—waiting for an outcome, whether it was success… or failure that forced her to draw her blade.
No one could say how much time passed.
Granholm remained submerged in his own world.
The presence of outsiders hadn't disrupted his absorption of Nihility in any meaningful way.
At this moment, his consciousness was suspended over a boundless sea of "empty."
Everything outside—everything, even the brief, spine-chilling exchange earlier—felt distant and blurred, as though separated by a thick membrane.
Granholm's breathing sounded like an old, failing fan: every inhale and exhale tore through him with ragged pain.
He felt himself sinking into a gray ocean without end—cold, viscous—without light, without sound, without meaning.
Shattered emotions, lost memories, dissolved obsessions—like seaweed—wrapped around him, dragging him toward deeper and deeper "nothing."
The weight of Qilan Star pressed down on his soul.
Since Granholm arrived on this planet, a month had passed.
But under Nihility's shroud, time itself became vague.
Perhaps he had been here for a year. Ten years. Or longer.
He was almost forgetting who he was—and why he was here at all.
Only one weak thread of obsession, like a candle in the wind, still held him upright:
Take this Nihility away. Carry it out of this world.
Just as his consciousness hovered on the brink of total dissolution—
A force brimming with vitality pierced the gray sea like the first light of spring, brushing softly across his spirit.
Abundance?
No—more than Abundance.
Mixed within it was something familiar, something hotter, like an intent capable of igniting a star sea.
It was Trailblaze.
Who?
Granholm forced the last shred of his awareness to gather itself.
This Trailblaze power wasn't weak at all in this nothingness—if anything, it burned brighter than his own.
Like a lighthouse lit in an ocean of darkness, showing him a direction.
His memories began to return, piece by piece.
The train…
A new Nameless?
Pam—had the conductor found a new companion?
That thought struck like a stimulant, making Granholm's near-stalled heartbeat thump once—hard.
Then another force entered.
It was purer Nihility, yet it carried a strange sense of order.
It didn't clash against the chaotic Nihility inside Granholm.
Instead it moved like an expert weaver, combing tangled threads, guiding them to flow into him in a calmer, more organized stream—easing the burden that had nearly torn him apart.
Reinforcements?
Or a new threat?
Granholm no longer had the strength to judge—nor the capacity to feel gratitude.
He could only endure the two forces seeping into him.
At least… neither of them was malicious.
Their intervention created a delicate fulcrum under a bowstring about to snap, granting him a precious breath.
He had to seize this chance.
He couldn't collapse here.
Not before he confirmed the future of the Express—confirmed whether the legacy would truly continue.
Gathering his last will, Granholm stopped trying to control the ocean of Nihility.
Instead, he opened himself completely.
He no longer resisted the dissolution of meaning—he embraced it, and cast his entire existence—everything that made him "Granholm"—into it.
Something changed.
Wei Qing withdrew the hand that had been guiding Abundance and Trailblaze, and gave a small nod.
"He… made it," Wei Qing murmured, unable to hide a trace of awe.
He'd expected the result.
But witnessing it with his own eyes still shook him.
This old navigator had bought this world a new beginning.
Wei Qing could feel it clearly: that black-hole pull radiating from Granholm had abruptly stopped.
He had completed the containment—he had taken in the planet's Nihility.
Acheron stood to the side in silence. She looked at Granholm, whose presence was now barely detectable, without a ripple of emotion—like someone confirming an inevitable conclusion.
"Mm. Impressive," she said simply.
She still didn't fully understand how he had done it, but it was a good outcome.
At least now she wouldn't have to risk fighting this Nameless again.
At that moment, Granholm slowly opened his eyes.
The eyes that had once reflected countless starfields now looked dust-covered—empty and exhausted.
His gaze wandered across the cavern roof in a haze, then slowly focused—landing on Wei Qing, and on Acheron standing behind him like a quiet shadow.
"…A new… Nameless?" he rasped.
"…Did Pam… send you?"
As if noticing the Astral Express ticket badge on Wei Qing's chest, and recalling the Trailblaze power he had felt in that gray sea, Granholm asked in a hoarse whisper.
Wei Qing stepped forward and bowed slightly.
"New Nameless of the Astral Express—Yi Qing. By Conductor Pam's request, I came to escort Navigator Granholm back to the train."
"Pam…" Granholm tried to pull his mouth into a smile. It didn't quite work. "Is it… doing well?"
"The Conductor is fine," Wei Qing answered calmly. "Just extremely worried about you."
"Good… good…" Granholm murmured.
The Express was already in poor condition.
He had been afraid that if he died here and never returned, Pam would be left alone.
Now, even if he did die here, at least the train would have someone to carry the story onward.
His gaze slid past Wei Qing to Acheron.
"Then this young lady is…?"
"Acheron," she replied, terse, offering no explanation.
Granholm nodded. He didn't seem to care about her identity. His attention returned to Wei Qing.
"Young man… how long has it been since I left the train?"
"A month, senior," Wei Qing replied.
A flicker of daze crossed Granholm's eyes, then softened into acceptance.
"A month… faster than I anticipated."
"…Seems your help allowed me to finish this last Trailblaze sooner."
He tried to move—only to find his body like a dead tree rooted into the ground. Even the smallest motion tugged at his soul.
"…Cough."
A thick, dark clot surged up his throat.
Perhaps unwilling to lose what little dignity he had left in front of a junior, Granholm forced it back down.
Wei Qing watched, brow tightening.
He could feel it: Granholm's life force was a leaking hourglass, draining at a frightening pace.
Even with the brief infusion of Abundance earlier barely holding his breath in place, this body couldn't last long.
Less than a year.
That was Wei Qing's estimate after scanning his condition.
In truth, when Wei Qing had stepped in earlier, he'd intended to invoke his authority as a candidate of Abundance and grant the old senior a blessing—to extend his lifespan.
But the result was clear:
He failed.
His blessing was swallowed by Nihility.
That shouldn't have been possible.
To neutralize the blessing of an Abundance successor candidate, it would take something of comparable rank.
And the Nihility here didn't meet that criterion.
Unless—
Unless Granholm had already stepped onto the Path of Nihility, and had walked very far along it.
Wei Qing took a step closer, voice steady.
"Senior, do you need help?"
Granholm lifted his head.
Those once-bright eyes were now muddy and dim, but he still tried to focus on Wei Qing.
He attempted a comforting smile; it turned into a breath-thin sigh.
"No, young man," he rasped. "This vessel… has completed its duty. Whatever strength a dying old man has left… should be saved for the last steps of his own walk."
He refused Wei Qing's support. His bony fingers reached out as if to grasp something to lean on—then fell, empty.
At that moment, Acheron spoke.
"Sir, I have one question. I hope you can answer it."
Granholm slowly turned his gaze to her. In his clouded eyes, there seemed to be a faint understanding.
"Ask," he said softly. "Miss… Acheron. If I know it, I'll answer as best I can."
Acheron stepped forward, her eyes carrying a rare, unmistakable intensity.
"As a Nameless of Trailblaze, you used yourself as a vessel to contain an entire planet's 'nothing.' Such a method… is unheard of."
Her voice echoed through the cavern with an almost stubborn seriousness.
"I want to know—how did you do it?"
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
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Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 45
Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 45
The Uma Musume Who Became 40
I'm Definitely Not the King of 45
After Maxing Out Every Class 45
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