For Ash and Sonia, asking about the Golden Fish was undeniably the most cost-effective option.
They could ask about spirits, but the Fate Quiz wasn't a wish-granting machine—it wouldn't simply toss them a spirit.
They could ask about miracles, but they weren't currently desperate for those. Besides, with just one correct answer, the Void Realm likely wouldn't offer a complete miracle spell, only vague hints toward a research direction.
And when it came to advancing their magical pathways, the quickest method was through consuming experience orbs, which could only be found by hunting knowledge creatures. The Void Realm might point them toward a creature, but it certainly wouldn't hand over an orb.
No matter how they looked at it, inquiries about spirits, miracles, or pathway advancements would only offer marginal benefits. But what truly determined a mage's combat ability was the number of Void Wings and their magic power levels.
Achieving two wings would allow access to Time Continent adventures and the acquisition of two-wing spirits.
Achieving two wings would allow their magical power to grow further.
Achieving two wings would allow Ash to fully power the two-wing spirit Earth Sword, greatly enhancing the defense of his miracle Sword Body Barrier, making the jailbreak far more secure.
The reason Ash was so eager to raise Sonia's Swordsmanship Pathway to gold wasn't just for her progress—it was for her to take him to Time Continent. But now, they had a more direct path.
Still, directly asking about the Golden Fish—"Where is it?" or "How do we find it?"—would yield unhelpful answers like "in the Sea of Knowledge" or "look harder."
Fortunately, the Fate Quiz had a glaring loophole: if a mage asked a yes-or-no question, the Void Realm had no choice but to answer truthfully.
For instance, if a mage faced a bottleneck in their research, they could ask, "Is Direction A correct?" The Void Realm would have to respond "yes" or "no," indirectly confirming the validity of Direction B.
A skilled logician could even construct complex yes-or-no questions to eliminate multiple possibilities at once.
Ash, ever cheeky, mused about asking: "Will there be a day ten years from now when I wake up and see the swordswoman sleeping next to me?" The critical factors here were "ten years from now," "waking up," and "Sonia beside me."
The act of "waking up" was inevitable—Ash couldn't stay in the Void Realm forever. As for Sonia "sleeping beside him," that was within his control; he could always stage the scenario for a laugh. The only unpredictable variable was "ten years from now."
If the Void Realm answered "yes," it'd be a done deal—he could confidently call Sonia "wife."
If it answered "no," there'd be two possibilities: either they'd had a fallout so bad that Sonia refused even to fake it, or the Void Realm believed Ash wouldn't survive the next decade.
In situations where the Void Realm was stingy with answers, yes-or-no questions were the most efficient—they ensured no wasted information.
After a brief discussion, Ash and Sonia decided on their two questions:
1. "Does the Golden Fish require a specific ritual to be seen?"
Questions like "Where is the Golden Fish?" or "How do we find it?" would likely yield vague, useless answers. Instead, their query stemmed from a theory: Sonia had once asked Professor Trolzan about Time Continent, and he mentioned its vastness rivaled the Sea of Knowledge. If the Golden Fish were so massive, why had no mage ever seen it?
With their experiences of Vortex Toxins and Exile Toxins, they suspected the Golden Fish might be hidden by some Void Realm mechanism, only appearing after triggering specific conditions.
The answer, however, stunned them: "No."
The Golden Fish required no ritual to appear. It existed, right now, in the Sea of Knowledge.
Shaken but intrigued, they quickly posed their second question:
2. "When does the Golden Fish rise from the depths?"
Assuming normal navigation wouldn't uncover the fish, they guessed it might dwell in the deep sea, surfacing periodically. If the Void Realm could reveal its schedule, they'd just have to wait for the right moment.
The answer shocked them again: "The Golden Fish always floats on the surface."
It didn't hide in the depths. It was always there, visible, needing no rituals to be seen.
Though this answer contradicted everything they knew, they couldn't deny it. The Void Realm's authority on such matters was absolute.
"Could it really just be bad luck that we've never encountered it?" Sonia muttered.
As the paper dissolved into smoke and their chairs vanished, dropping them back onto the boat, Sonia sighed. "This feels like a waste. We didn't get anything useful."
"At least I know I'll survive and escape Bloodmoon Nation," Ash replied, surprisingly cheerful. To him, the Fate Quiz was a bonus. If it provided insights, great; if not, no big deal. "Plus, we'll have our little fallout and reconcile later—"
"That might not even happen!" Sonia glared at him. "There's a theory that Fate Quiz prophecies often fail to come true because the people involved die before they can. No one records failed prophecies, so they seem rarer than they are."
"Oh, so if I die, you'll submit our prophecy as a case study to your school for extra credit?"
"That's one way to use it…" Sonia retorted, nose in the air.
Ash chuckled. "So, do you want the prophecy to come true or not?"
"I only believe in prophecies that favor me," Sonia declared. "Anything else is a lie."
"Classic you."
"And you?"
"Me?" Ash pondered for a moment. "I don't care about the prophecy itself. I'm more interested in… fighting against it."
"Fighting? What do you mean?"
"Let me put it this way. Sonia, do you think the person you are now will be the same as who you'll be thirty years from now? In terms of personality, values, goals, habits?"
Sonia considered. "Probably not. I'm not even twenty yet—thirty years is longer than I've been alive. I'm sure I'll change a lot."
"Exactly. So, if the Sonia from thirty years in the future suddenly replaced you now, wouldn't it feel like she killed you?"
Sonia's brow furrowed, her unease evident. "I guess you could see it that way."
"Now stretch that over thirty years. If the prophecy slowly molds you into a different version of yourself, doesn't that mean the future 'you' is killing the present 'you,' just over a longer timeline?"
"…Most people don't think about it like that."
"But isn't it fascinating?" Ash's grin widened. "Once you know the prophecy, it's like there's a future version of you waiting to take over. One of you has to die—the present or the future self. There's no middle ground."
"Prophecies and possession are the same in that sense. Possession happens instantly, while a prophecy kills you slowly, reshaping you day by day."
Sonia opened her mouth to respond but fell silent, deep in thought.
Ash pressed on. "Have you heard of kids writing letters to their future selves?"
"Yeah, I've written one before."
"When adults read those letters, don't you think it feels like reading a farewell note?"
"Why would you think that?"
"Because they've become completely different people—different thoughts, habits, values, dreams. They're practically strangers who've lived in the same body. Doesn't that mean the adult has metaphorically killed the child?"
Sonia shook her head emphatically. "No! That's just called growing up, not possession!"
Ash laughed. "But when the child wrote that letter, they preserved themselves in a fixed state, like a snapshot of their soul. The adult reading it is meeting someone who no longer exists."
"Isn't that just like a prophecy? A glimpse of your future self, writing back to you?"
"Different times, different selves—they're not the same person."
"That's why I don't care about the prophecy itself. I care about how I'll face it. If we really do fall out and reconcile, it means the 'prophetic Ash' defeated me. And the 'prophetic Sonia' will have killed you."
Ash paused, thoughtful. "Though I wonder why 'love' showed up as a reason for reconciliation but not as a cause for the fallout. Maybe love only blooms after the fallout, when both sides realize how much they need each other—"
Sonia snapped back to reality, her face flushing red. "That just means it's a shared crisis that brings us back together, not love!"
"Alright, alright. Calm down."
"I'm not upset!"
"Sure, sure. Let's go hunt a Swordfish Dragon and cool off."
After hunting a few more knowledge creatures with little success, they said their goodbyes and exited the Void Realm.
Back in the meditation room, Sonia sat in silence, her mind replaying Ash's words.
Despite their growing closeness, Sonia had doubts. Was Ash really a reborn legend, as she once believed?
His lack of ambition and drive didn't match her image of a hero. Yet, his words earlier revealed something deeper—something sharp, almost dangerous.
That mix of cold logic and unsettling fervor reminded her of something she'd read in The Psychology of Criminal Mages. It noted how ordinary people could shed their mundane lives when faced with adversity, becoming terrifyingly single-minded in their pursuit of purpose.
The book's opening line echoed in her mind:
"They didn't change. They simply woke up."