Flames punched skyward and ringed the field; brass shells clicked against stone, and a chorus of screams curdled the night. Blood and bodies littered the clearing—peace gone, the earth turned into a shrine for Death.

Sickness first, then breath. Mizuki stared at the countless dead, men and women alike, faces frozen in every kind of expression, some lost under mud and blood. Her discomfort showed plain; she didn’t bother to hide it.

“Get used to it. Time won’t give you much.”

Tyrant glanced at Mizuki, spoke lightly, then kept patrolling with that heavy greatsword shouldered like a steel storm.

This patch was one of those everywhere-on-the-front scraps of ground; the fight here had just finished. Ten minutes ago, the Special Task Force arrived, but the Witches guarding this position were already all dead. Anger smoldered; led by Tyrant, they raised blades and stormed the enemy line, cutting it into ribbons in moments.

After, Aya pinged the comms team to send a unit to take over. They still had recon to run. Taking back this ground was a side quest; they couldn’t waste time. Any delay, and the Crystal Tower would slip out of reach.

“Ugh. Filthy.”

Thunder Lady pinched her nose, queasy at the iron tang and rot hanging in the air. She was, after all, still a middle schooler.

Yun Shi gave the field a cool glance. No extra sentiment for the dead. She stowed her weapon and eyed the next move. Mizuki, by contrast, truly wasn’t used to this. The purest among them, untouched by any baptism of darkness, her feelings were a tangled thread.

“Next target’s the nearby floors. Remember, we use those floors to shape favorable ground. That’s how we do recon best.”

Aya checked the time, then turned to the resting team. Heads nodded. No objections. They stood, nerves tightening like bowstrings again.

Night wrapped the sky in sable silk. The clouds thinned; the moon finally bared half a face. Its cold light washed a blood-soaked earth—a beauty braided with death that made the heart shiver.

Soon, their footsteps moved again. As the core recon team, their combat power had been cherry-picked; their burden sat heavier than most. Yet they lived a step farther from the death line.

They ran, and a new battlefield opened. The instant they entered, the roar of gunfire and the squeal of dying wove together. Mizuki and the others halted on instinct. The clash here matched the last: guns up, blades out, blood paid in full, howls that wouldn’t end. One after another fell—Witch or Divine Ling Family member, all collapsing into the same dirt.

“All hands, ready to engage!”

Aya barely finished when bullets streaked toward them. She stiffened, then the team moved fast. Mystic Power flared from within and layered into shields. Sham’s shield, ringed with Thunder Lady’s lightning, hardened into a fortress; even shells crashed to a stop.

“Thank you, Thunder Lady. Thank you, Sham.”

Sheltered behind them, Mizuki felt like she’d slipped from a tiger’s jaws. Gratitude came easy.

“No need. Happy to help, Miss Mizuki.”

“Hehe, it’s fine. Protecting Mizuki is my job, y’know?”

Sham and Thunder Lady waved off the thanks, grinning.

It didn’t stop there. In moments, more enemies spotted them and pushed in, faces twisted with hate. The Witches fought to stall that tide, buying a slice of time for those behind.

Tyrant’s smile iced over. Patterns glowed along her blade; an eerie light bled from the steel. She gripped the hilt with both hands and leapt. Before the enemy finished gasping, her swing hit home—heads severed, limbs thudding across the ground. Split bodies showed a flash of wet entrails. Horror was the color of the scene.

“Come on! I’m not done yet!”

She smashed the greatsword into the floor. A visible shockwave carved open tiles and bodies together. Those caught only managed a few cries before they became decoration—blood sprayed, then stilled.

Once inside the enemy ranks, Tyrant spared no mercy. Her face stayed cold. The sword’s energy spiked, a crushing pressure spearing into chests—men burst apart where they stood. She flicked a slash that blew away a hard-charging squad, then danced through blades, cutting down foe after foe. A turn, a cleave—one fresh blood-man fell. Mystic Power erupted, and the ring around her cleared to silence.

Hawk Hunter slid in then, twin hook-claws in hand. In a heartbeat, they were lacquered scarlet. Her face was winter-hard. One arrow step—only a crisp afterimage remained—and the crowd rose into a visible whirlwind. No defense held. The edges severed bodies at their joints; blood rained onto the stone.

She and Tyrant ended back to back, guarding each other’s shadow.

“What are you doing? I can handle them alone.”

“Enough. Leave your back to me.”

“Luce…”

“Alright, Anta.”

She laughed, glanced over her shoulder, then launched—ferocious as a hunting falcon, seen yet never caught. In the end, lives got handed over, one by one.

On the other side, Sham and Thunder Lady worked in lockstep, back to back, covering every angle. Comet fought alone. From the way she moved—calm, effortless—she didn’t need worry.

Mizuki’s side was messier. She’d relied on Elana for so long she’d never fought in earnest. A shifting Artifact Spirit spun around her, and a shadow in a black cloak kept darting in to catch stray bullets.

“Not that troublesome. Give me one or two minutes.”

Yun Shi ran the most conservative numbers and sketched her next move. Meanwhile, she kept fending off the fearless grunts who wouldn’t quit.

Suddenly, the earth shuddered. Knees buckled; footing went rough. Fighters froze and lifted their eyes. The clouds writhed like a brewing tornado, ready to tear. The floor kept humming disaster, as if the world inhaled for a scream.

“The Crystal Tower’s activated!”

Aya reacted first and shouted.

Too late. The sky dyed itself scarlet; crystalline light flickered. As the shaking ended, a storm of red crystals descended, every one tipped like a blade.

They tried to dodge, but the ground split and spat up spikes—razor-sharp, like teeth lunging for flesh.

Unprepared Witches turned into blood-statues in a breath. No time for a scream. They met the King of Hell in silence.

“Don’t you dare underestimate me!”

Tyrant’s face tightened, but her aura didn’t break. She swung and parried the crystals in sheets. The numbers were overwhelming; hardship stacked fast.

Then, all the Special Task Force figures began to blur. The crystals speared through their bodies like smoke, and the next wave did the same.

Hawk Hunter wore a pleased smirk. She liked this result.

It was her ability. After a surge of Mystic Power, she projected phantom images for everyone—illusions. Like light bent by a mirror, the true bodies shifted off their apparent place. The attacks pierced where the bodies weren’t, and every strike fell clean through.

Aya gave Hawk Hunter a grateful smile. Without the prep, they’d have been buried here.

“Thank you, Hawk Hunter.”

“Seriously, that was so cool!”

Mizuki and Thunder Lady didn’t bother hiding their praise. Hawk Hunter’s smile deepened, her posture edging proud.

As the crystal barrage slowed, Yun Shi let out a thin breath. Then she looked at the Witches who hadn’t escaped in time, at the still forms on the ground, and the weight inside pressed heavier. The Crystal Tower had clearly scanned the battlefield not long ago and targeted exact positions. Nothing else explains that precision.

She scanned the ring once more. Misery everywhere. One strike snuffed a crowd, stained the earth, and smashed buildings into rubble. The destruction felt nuclear-level; the kind of scene you never forget. More shocking was this: the crystal dead included plenty of Divine Ling Family members, some who’d tangled with them earlier.

She had no fondness for them—only hostility—but seeing the Divine Ling Family throw away their own for victory left Yun Shi tangled inside.

She stood in her pocket of solitude, apart from teammates hashing out their search for the Crystal Tower. The brutal tableau burned into her mind, image by image.

Shen Ling Zou… is this the road you chose?

She spoke inwardly, emotion first, then breath. She struggled to accept that boy doing this, and yet, she wasn’t surprised. Maybe this was the most natural end.

One way or another, they’d meet.

Now, the problem to solve is—

“Aya, I think I might be able to pinpoint the Crystal Tower.”

She turned. Her Goggles caught pinpricks of glow.