By the time the pursuers reached the scene, time and strength had bled away like sand through fingers; they scanned the ring of night, found no trace, and doubt rose like mist.

If it’s not here, did something happen?

It shouldn’t be—he remembered this spot like a mark on bone; how could it...

“Could it be... no—bad, we’ve walked into a trap!”

When they snapped back to their senses, the moment had already slipped like water; Sham and Yun Shi were racing for the edge, and chasing now would be a cliff to climb. Not chasing would let a priceless Artifact Spirit drift away like a lost comet. Both paths were thorns; they had to choose.

“All units, pursue the target, now!”

“Sir!”

They kept their heads cool as steel in frost; not chasing meant surrender, and they weren’t built to bow.

The moon eased out like a silver coin, and the pitch-dark earth slowly came into focus like ink thinning in water.

Two girls’ shadows skimmed under the moonlight like swallows; not playing, but fighting to cut free from this place like wolves breaking a snare.

“Are we there yet?” Her breath came white as vapor.

“That’s not so easy; we need the side paths, many of them, so they won’t spot us, like fish slipping through reeds.”

“Smart minds are a blessing—without you I’d be dead already, like a candle in rain.” Sham matched her stride, her voice a quick wind.

“I’m not doing this for you.” Embarrassment pricked first, then pride. “Listen, I don’t want to die either, so don’t get the wrong idea.” Her tone was a hard shell over a soft heart.

Praise warmed Yun Shi like a hidden ember, but pride kept her tongue hard; she spoke against her heart like frost over spring.

“Whatever the reason, you saved me.” Sham’s smile was a lantern in a tunnel. “That’s twice now, little Yun.”

“...” Words knotted inside Yun Shi like vines; Sham’s sincerity fell like soft rain, and her own awkward pride muzzled her heart like a hand over a mouth.

“Before they catch on, we’ve got time to slip out like shadows at dawn. We might hit the ring guards ahead, so keep sharp like a blade.”

“Got it.” Her voice rang quick, a small bell in the fog.

After this, Sham trusted Yun Shi like rock underfoot; Yun Shi had earned it with clean skill like a craftsman’s cut.

For now, all that mattered was finding a way out; chances like this don’t bloom twice, like a rare flower in winter.

“Almost...” Hope rose first, then steadied. Yun Shi ran, and the path ahead brightened like a pale dawn; joy swelled like a warm tide in her chest.

Suddenly, killing intent knifed through the air like ice; instinct screamed, and she slammed to a stop, her bones screeching like brakes.

Momentum pitched her forward like a tilting boat; Sham crashed into her back and flipped, sky and earth swapping places like a tossed coin.

“Ow... what are you doing? Why’d you stop?” Her temper spiked like a struck match.

Sham’s grumble was fair; a sudden spill sours the mood like bitter tea poured wrong.

Yun Shi didn’t answer; panic pricked her skin like thorns, and she hauled Sham up, sprinting back the way they came like deer fleeing a snare.

Boom! The night bloomed into fire.

The spot they’d vacated burst into an explosion; shards screamed outward like a flock of knives, stone dust swirling like ash.

“What is going on?” Fear tightened her voice like a drawn bowstring.

Time gave no answers; from every side, fireballs swarmed in, a storm of blazing crows beating their wings toward them.

Yun Shi gripped Sham’s hand and wove through the chaos like a dancer in arrows; wherever a fireball missed, the ground blossomed into shrapnel like dark flowers.

“Who are you? Stop slinking in smoke—show yourself!” Her shout cracked like thunder, trying to drag a snake from grass.

They lurked in shadow while she stood in the open; it was poison to a fight, so she had to haul them into light by any means like a fisherman pulling nets.

As if the words were bait, the enemy stepped out; a torn shadow skimmed the alley like a whirlwind, then stood bold before them like a statue placed in moonlight.

He wore a Roman legionnaire’s getup, face sly as a fox, eyes slick with danger like oil on water; young, in his prime like a blade newly forged.

“You’re the one obstructing us?” Her voice went cold, a knife laid flat.

Yun Shi needed no second look; he was here to stop them, and his strength wasn’t ordinary, like a current under calm water.

They’d thought that clearing the inside would make the exit easy; naive as paper armor. Anyone strong enough to guard the ring wouldn’t be weak, like a wolf posted at a gate.

“Hah— I’ll kill you!” His grin bent like a hook.

He grinned crookedly and vanished like smoke; Yun Shi snapped her gaze around—he was at her flank, hand cutting loose an attack like a whip.

A violet-blue bolt lanced straight at them and exploded right before Yun Shi, light blossoming like a cruel flower.

Yun Shi tumbled out of the churning smoke like a thrown kite; he hounded her, Mystic Power surging, blasts of energy slamming toward her like hammerheads.

“Tch...” Frustration bit first, then steadied like grit in teeth.

She had no choice but to weave through the strikes like water under reeds; each line aimed at her like a river of arrows. Dodge one, another arrived; this grind would break her soon, like waves on a cliff.

“Try this!” His voice was a grin sharpened to a point.

He flashed to her face like lightning; in Yun Shi’s startled gaze, a sweeping kick took her legs like a scythe. Pain barely formed before her body got booted airborne, punted like a ball again and again in the empty air.

She clenched her teeth; landing, she drove a fist like a thrown stone— but before it hit, a flurry of kicks folded her up like paper.

She wanted to strike, but he always moved first; that storm-speed shattered her rhythm like wind tearing banners.

“Let her go!” Sham’s cry rang like a bell in a storm.

Sham wouldn’t just watch; she loosed her Mystic Power, and the ground split, spitting sharp spikes toward him like the earth growing fangs.

It barely mattered to him; a twitch, and he slipped past every spike like wind through reeds, light-footed as a swallow.

Now his gaze hooked onto Sham, the inconvenient piece on the board like a thorn in cloth.

He flashed to her front, booted her away like a kicked door, then blinked behind her, repeating the cruelty in a loop like a drumbeat.

At last he seized her collar and hammered her into the floor; force carried her into a wall, cracking it like dry clay under a heel.

Pain flooded Sham like cold rain; a sweet-iron taste climbed her throat, and blood spat out like a red petal, but nothing vital had broken.

“Sham Einafel... don’t trade blows with him.” Yun Shi’s voice was rough as gravel. “You’re not his match!”

Yun Shi wasn’t better off; clothes hung in tatters, dust masked her face like ash, and blood dripped from her arm like a crimson thread.

Under the rain of blows, Yun Shi no longer wore her usual androgynous veil; the outer layer had shredded and been cast off like dead bark. The clinging undergarment traced a woman’s curves, chest and all—any sharp eye could see she was female, like moonlight outlining a shape.

“Worry about yourself first!” His words snapped like a whip.

He looked untouchable, using sky-breaking speed to grind them down like millstones, dragging them into a bitter fight.

His raw strength wasn’t towering, but his speed was top-tier, one of the fastest in the Underworld, like a hawk in a clear sky. His one flaw: weak burst power, a spark that didn’t catch.

Match his speed, and the fight evens—might even tip in their favor like a balance scale shifting.

They needed a quick end; let reinforcements arrive, and trouble would flood in like a black tide swallowing shore.

“Don’t think you’re the only fast one.” Her tone cooled like steel quenched.

“Oh? I still don’t plan to let you pass.” His reply slithered like smoke.

“Then I’ll smash through.” Resolve landed like a hammer.

Mystic Power flared; blood-red aura coiled around her like mist. Her eyes bled into scarlet like embers lit in snow. Calm faded; a cold edge sharpened within like frost on glass.

“That... is the Blood Pupil?” His voice stuttered like a candle in wind.

Shock bit into him; he couldn’t believe Yun Shi wielded that art, a moon pulled down to hand.

He’d seen the Blood Pupil’s terror before; he had fought Yuuya of the Quadra Eye Family, a titan of the Underworld, like a storm given legs. He’d thought no one moved faster than him—until Yuuya. The world is wide; defeat carved that lesson like a chisel in stone.

He’d lost to Yuuya for lack of burst power; Yuuya matched his speed, then crushed him with sheer force like a mountain falling. Without overwhelming strength, his fall was brutal, a tree snapped in a gale.

He’d accepted that loss, like salt dissolved in water. But this scene gnawed at him like rats on rope. If memory served, only a few in the Quadra Eye Family used the secret art—and none were women, like a lineage sealed in iron.

So what was this girl? That technique was undeniably theirs, a seal stamped in blood.

And weren’t such arts reserved for the Clan Head’s bloodline, guarded like a dragon hoard?

“Who are you, really?” His face set hard, a stone mask.

Yun Shi gave a cold laugh; she knew his question to the bone, like a blade knowing its whetstone.

“No one worth a name—just a soul made into a ghost.” Her words drifted like fog over graves.

“So you don’t intend to explain.” His smile twisted—half warning, half threat, like a knife wrapped in silk. “If more learn you wield that secret art, the danger will bloom like wildfire.”

A chill lifted in Yun Shi; she grasped the meaning like a thorn in palm. Secret arts were the Clan Head’s blood right. She, cut off from that house, used it openly—eyes would notice like owls in dusk.

She’d been careless, treating it like a handy blade, never weighing the shadow it cast, like walking with lantern light calling moths.

Without this foe, she’d still be walking with her heart hanging outside her ribs, bared to the wind like a flag.

“So you admit it, Quadra Eye... and I still don’t know your name.” His tone crept like ivy.

“I gave up my name long ago.” Her gaze was winter. “If you want answers, win them in a fight.”

“Suited to me.” His grin flashed like steel.

He wouldn’t squeeze answers from talk; he’d beat them out cleanly, like rain knocking dust from leaves.

Two figures vanished from the clearing like sparks whisked by wind; violet-blue and blood-red afterimages tangled in the air, a storm of color and steel whirling under the moon.