A sky-blotting storm of red crystals surged in, forcing Mizuki to halt midair; her wings shivered like wet leaves, she hugged the girl tight, and slipped through a maze of circling shards.
“Damn, that’s way too many—like a red locust swarm.”
“Looks like the Divine Ling Family can’t wait anymore. They won’t let us through easy. Miyuki Kiseki, drop down, now!”
“I got it.”
Whoosh—Mizuki dove straight down like a falcon; the crystal hail chased her, knitting a glittering tapestry behind her that flashed like a bloody aurora as she fled.
On the ground below, seeing the sky-whiteout of crystal, Sham and Thunder Lady frowned hard, their stances settling like rooted pines as they readied to meet the storm.
Boom!
A violent blast flowered overhead and shredded the incoming crystal like brittle ice; a girl stood at the center, fingers flicking like sparks, her face set, blocking for the two.
“Aya?!”
“I’ll help block the crystals.”
No frills, just purpose; Aya’s voice cut clean. Thunder Lady opened her mouth to say more, but the next wave hissed in like saw-teeth and made her swallow it, while Sham stayed silent, her gaze cold as steel and movements precise.
These girls were fine; the rest of the field wouldn’t be so lucky. And up in the wind, the two playing at survival weren’t having it easy either.
“Don’t fly that fast, damn it—I’m gonna puke—my stomach’s in a washing machine!”
“If I slow down, we’ll be meat paste—bite your tongue and live!”
“Seriously—whoa, don’t move. Hands off the no-touch zones!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to!”
“You two, can you not flaunt your lovey-dovey? I’m very, very jealous.”
“Elana, why’d you pop out just to stir the pot!”
“Y-Yes~ Mizuki, release your Mystic Power and unlock the next seal, or you really will be paste on the pavement.”
Before Mizuki could parse her meaning, the necklace at her throat flashed like dawn breaking; light wrapped both Mizuki and Yun Shi, and in the air became a hazy, glowing sphere like frosted crystal.
The crystal swarm barreled on, their flight lines spearing toward Mizuki like red comets; just before impact, a crystal-clear sphere blossomed and caught the strike like a lake freezing midwave.
“Form Five, Absolute Defense!”
A fluorescent crystal sphere enclosed them, big enough for ten grown adults, its glow steady as moonlight on snow. Its defense was absolute; no strike seeped in. Even fresh to the skill, Mizuki felt the logic: it could split, becoming floating shields like drifting petals.
One more thing: even with a new form active, Mizuki’s Black Iron Wings stayed spread like twin blades, not replaced by the shift.
“What’s going on?”
Mizuki hadn’t voiced it when Yun Shi asked, her body tense as a drawn bow. She hated being held, yet her cheeks warmed; yes, she was quietly enjoying the feel of another girl’s arms—don’t ask if that makes you the one being carried.
“I’m an Artifact Spirit that controls shifting. I’ve got seven seals. Mizuki has unlocked four. At this point, any form can swap freely. So even if you open the fifth, you can still use the first. That’s my combo-form trick. You’ll see more~”
Elana explained, her syrupy loli voice sweet enough to stick like honey.
“So convenient. I don’t even have that cheat.”
Nestled in Mizuki’s arms, Yun Shi’s tone went tart, a thorn under silk; envy pricked like nettles.
Mizuki was a proper protagonist—her hacks felt ordained. Yun Shi was a Witch with an Artifact Spirit too, but compared to Mizuki the gap was a ravine; rare attributes, sure, but no perks that felt like a blessing.
It wasn’t fair at all.
“Ah—haha…”
Mizuki chuckled dryly, her smile crooked like a cracked mask, unsure what to say.
The battlefield roared louder; once the crystal volleys paused, the Witches struck back like a tide in flood. After paying in lives, forgiveness was ash on the tongue.
Mizuki let the Absolute Defense fall and dropped to earth like a snowflake turning to blade. She set the girl down; Yun Shi left that familiar warmth with a flicker of longing that turned quickly into embarrassment, heat like a blush under frost.
Damn it, what a shameful thought.
She shook the craving from her head like water from a dog, coughed to cover the hitch in her breath, and walked forward alone, a shadow slipping past lamp-light.
“Miss Night Phantom…”
Mizuki didn’t understand, but followed; in two steps, Yun Shi vanished like fog in sun. Loss stung like cold wind. Mizuki scanned the chaos, searching for the familiar silhouette of Night Phantom.
The factory drew nearer; the building loomed like a block of slate, and ahead lay the workshop. Yun Shi wanted the night over—cut clean and gone—so she could go home.
A knot of young men appeared, faces stern as carved masks, hands clenched around weapons like iron vines. Don’t be fooled by age; their pressure fell like a mountain. They were elite of the Divine Ling Family.
“Let me through.”
Yun Shi’s voice was cold as steel, her heart dismissing their bravado like gnats buzzing around a blade.
“Sure… not happening.”
One snorted, mockery curling like smoke.
“Is that so.”
Yun Shi drew her Light Blade with a whisper like winter wind, stance set, a cold smile cutting thin across her face.
Boom!
Before she struck, one of them blew from the inside out, meat and blood spraying like crushed berries. Yun Shi blinked, turned, and her expression grew complicated, shadows like rain across her eyes.
The one who acted wore the same weight—complicated, a thread of apology, a knot of resolve.
“I’ll hold them. You… go on.”
The words came dry, cracking like a parched reed, but they landed sure in Yun Shi’s ears.
She wanted to say something, but time clawed at her heels. She nodded once.
“Mm.”
She didn’t know how to face her; she answered flat, turned, and went the other way, steps clean like ink strokes.
“Um… I’m sorry.”
Her foot paused on the ground like a halted drumbeat; the voice from behind deepened the tangle in her chest, yet gave a sliver of comfort like lantern light.
“Mm.”
She nodded again and left her sight like smoke through trees.
Yie Caiyin turned back, her eyes cold as winter stars, pinning the men ahead like knives.
Her fingers clenched; chained explosions rippled out like thunderheads, pounding the ground and driving them back. Then Aya flicked her hand, and a blast bloomed like a newborn sun; red liquid threaded into a beautiful blood mist.
Elsewhere, Mizuki wasn’t having it easy; a whole unit caged her like wolves, not elite, but relentless as tide.
Tonight’s battle was the fiercest yet; everyone fought to the last drop, Mystic Power flaring like fireworks. Buildings fell like sand castles. Mizuki and her allies were just one chord in that raging symphony.
Sham and Thunder Lady together were near-invincible; they met and cut, met and killed, no wall could stand. As for Yun Shi, with Aya holding back pursuers, she sprinted for the factory’s core like an arrow. Overall, progress held, tight but steady.
Far off, the female commander read the reports; her smile deepened like ink soaking paper.
“Saving the trump was the right call.”
Use every tool to its edge—that was the rule. She could already see the outcome unfurling like a banner.
And they’d reached this point because of that Witch called Night Phantom; without her keen advice, they’d have crumbled like wet clay.
Her origins were stained, sure, but talent doesn’t vanish like fog. Also, that other Artifact Spirit would soon earn a title; another key factor clicking into place.
“So clingy…”
Mizuki’s hands tightened on the Reaper Scythe; she split an enemy from collar to hip, ignoring the slick spray on her skin like swamp water. She gritted her teeth, unleashed a violet ghost-breath that coiled like serpents around foes, then detonated on their bodies, blowing them to grit.
Her Black Iron Wings flared like twin scythes; she cut upward, a lithe silhouette streaking through air, then fell like a comet, cleaving lines of aura that slashed down and ended the nuisance.
“This won’t do. I’ll burn out at this pace.”
Panting like a bellows, Mizuki frowned midair, the picture bleak as storm clouds. Alone, she couldn’t seize the field. A partner would turn the tide.
“Mizuki, finish fast. No time to waste.”
“But how? I’ve spent all my seals. I’ve got no spare Mystic Power.”
“Don’t be dense. Unlock the next seal and refill the well.”
“Huh? I’ve only got four unlocked. You want me to crack the fifth?”
“You got it~ At your current level, opening the next isn’t hard.”
Elana spoke truth; before, Mizuki stalled at her own hurdle. Now, after adapting to the Blood Queen, her strength had no leash; releasing it was easy. That’s why she could pop the remaining seals like beads.
Elana was confident. Mizuki could break through again.
“But… is it okay?”
“Relax. Trust me. Go!”
Mizuki’s center vanished; her body dropped like a stone. She glanced back—Elana had canceled the Black Iron Wings.
Are you trying to kill your partner?!
Mizuki howled inside, fury crackling like lightning.
Of course not; Elana had her reasons.
“Form Four, Demon Eagle!”
Light peeled away like shed skin; across the field, a brutal beast stood, waiting like a storm at the horizon.
It looked like an eagle; iron shards edged its wings, sharp as razors, no less lethal than the Black Iron Wings. Its talons, just resting on earth, made hearts quake like drums. Its face held a mild grace, but its gaze was a hunter’s—pure killing intent, cold as steel.
A proper demon.
