Witches, one of the Underworld’s three great powers, move like fog over the marsh, impossible to grasp.

Witches answer to no banner, freelancing as bounty hunters, like lone wolves under a cold moon.

For Witches, only profit stands before them, like a coin glinting on a blood-dark river.

Not every Witch is like that, yet the Underworld paints them with the same dusk-blue brush.

In their eyes, Witches are heartless, women who earn bloody coin, yet they fight like thunder across a cliff.

Yun Shi looked at her outfit, a Witch’s battle dress, like ink on snow; the skirt still snagged like briars.

Her black hair fell loose, a cool waterfall, giving her a cold-cut beauty like frost on steel.

“I really became a Witch…” The words fluttered like moths against a lantern.

To be honest, the feeling still sat wrong, like a shoe full of sand in a long desert walk.

She’d opposed becoming a Witch, yet changed so fast, like spring ice breaking without a sound.

“Once the contract is sealed, you’ve got a Witch’s power and status; feel the Mystic Power flow like a river?”

“I do. What I spent didn’t return so much as new current flowed in like tide.”

Yun Shi flexed her palm, feeling enough energy to fight, like flint catching sun-dry tinder.

“Xiao Yun, you really don’t regret signing with me?” Sham’s voice trembled like wind over reeds.

Sham still felt uneasy, caught off guard like a bird startled from a low bough.

“I signed ready to pay the price; regret has no door, like a wall of stone behind me.”

Yun Shi offered no long explanation, letting the topic drift like a leaf down a stream.

“Let’s go. Time to end this,” she said, voice steady as dusk light on a blade.

She reached her hand to Sham, a firm bridge like a beam over dark water, taking the initiative.

Night lay over the earth like a hood, and patrols swarmed like ants, faces sharp with wary frost.

Everything felt one spark from ruin, like dry grass in a lightning field, ready to blaze.

Boom!

A blast bloomed like a fire lotus, with flame and blood spattering like rain over stone.

“Enemy attack!” The leader’s shout cracked like a whip in winter air.

He snapped orders like thrown knives, men bracing for the charge like shields in a storm.

After the flames, a girl stepped out like a shadow from a bonfire, black cloak flowing, steps light.

“Isn’t that the woman from before? She’s a Witch?” Voices flickered like bats under an eave.

They recognized Yun Shi’s face, awe and dread twisting like smoke around a well.

“All units, prepare to fight!” Their eyes hardened like ice, weapons raised like thorns.

Yun Shi stopped in the road’s center, calm as a still pond, confidence coiling like a dragon.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A storm of bullets came on like iron rain, aimed straight at the girl like spears.

A normal person would crumble like paper in a flood, but Yun Shi now held a Witch’s strength like stone.

Boom!

She gathered Mystic Power, pressed the air like a heavy tide, and space warped like heat haze.

Twisted space answered like a crushing vice, and bodies burst like overripe fruit on the ground.

The stench of blood rolled in like a coppery wave, yet she stayed cool, like moonlight on water.

She hadn’t expected such force, but if it worked, it was a blade worth keeping like a hunter’s knife.

She didn’t linger; she dashed in like an arrow, ready to carve the enemy like splitting bamboo.

They refused to yield, lifting weapons like boars lowering tusks, meeting her charge head-on.

Her hand went to the pistol at her side, swift as a swallow, racking it and firing like thunder.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bullets tore through lives like hail through leaves, each hit cutting a bright thread.

Running, eyes locked forward, she aimed clean, memories rising like mist from the Quadra Eye Family.

Back then, she’d done the same, pulling a trigger at paper targets like raindrops on a pond.

Now it was a real gun, the target a person, yet her face stayed the same, like stone under rain.

“Die!” The word flew like a thrown dagger, cold and straight.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

She held nothing back, the trigger harvesting lives like a reaper cutting wheat at dusk.

It wasn’t her cruelty; it was the world’s winter, and she learned to kill like fire learns to burn.

To kill another was to barter for her own breath, like trading coin at a border gate.

But the enemy wasn’t soft rice; their counterstrike gathered like thunderheads over a black sea.

Her lone gun did little, her shots thinning like sparks in a gale.

Yun Shi clenched her palm, drew Mystic Power, and tore space like ripping silk across a frame.

A violent shockwave rolled out like a breaking tide, slamming toward the enemy line.

“What kind of monstrous power is that!” their cries scattered like startled crows.

No wonder they balked; power from an Artifact Spirit was unknown, like fog hiding a cliff.

Boom-rumble!

The leader hammered the floor with his fist, and the ground split like cracking ice.

That rift surged with force like a sand-filled river, racing to bury Yun Shi like a dune.

Boom!

A counter-shock slammed in like a wall of wind, stopping the strike like a mountain.

Yun Shi glanced back; Sham smiled like sunrise through cloud, bright and thin.

Fresh from the contract, Sham held a share of a contractor’s Mystic Power, enough to fight like a lit torch.

They moved with easy rhythm, backs close like paired cranes, unhurried amid many foes.

Yun Shi led, fracturing space and firing cannons of force like lightning lances.

Sham cast a meteor shower, stars falling like hot rain, smashing into the enemy like stones.

“Impossible—they should’ve been out of energy,” the leader’s voice cracked like dry wood.

He couldn’t accept the turn, a sure win turning like a river suddenly dammed.

“Could it be, that woman’s Mystic Power…” His thought coiled like smoke around a hidden ember.

The Artifact Spirit. The words fell like a seal in wax.

If so, it fit; power returning from nowhere like wind filling a dead sail.

His boss had warned him, Artifact Spirits carried futures no one could read, like stars under fog.

He’d been ordered to seize it at any cost, like a hunter risking winter to track a tiger.

Now, how could he face the young clan master, like a debtor before a cold ledger?

“Damn you, I’ll kill you!” he roared, anger flaring like dry pine in fire.

He exploded with power, his hand wrapped in a mini sandstorm like a spinning dune.

In a heartbeat it swelled like a desert squall and slammed at Yun Shi like a falling cliff.

Boom!

Yun Shi twisted space to block, the strike buckling like iron under heat, and she closed in like a hawk.

Her hand found a black metal cylinder, cold as night iron, unknown yet beckoning like a buried talisman.

Trusting instinct, she pressed the switch like flicking a flint in the dark.

Vrrm!

A blue-violet blade jetted out like a beam of moonfire, humming in the air like a hive.

Yun Shi swung it and chopped down like a falling comet toward his guard.

Clang!

He reacted fast, a long sword catching the strike like a bell catching a hammer.

Yun Shi drove him step by step, swordwork from memory flowing like water over stone.

This sword was so light, she thought, like a feathered reed cutting water.

It was a Light Saber, no wonder; a good weapon that moved like a swallow in wind.

She danced her footwork, the tip seeking him like a snake, patient and cold.

With a fierce lunge, one decisive thrust, the Light Blade pierced his body like a spear through clay.

Blood fountained like a burst spring, and his body toppled like a felled tree.

Heat sizzled on the Light Blade, blood vapor hissing like mist off hot stone.

Yun Shi flicked the blade, tossing red drops like petals, then let the steam fade like breath.

With the head gone, the rest were a headless flock, easy to turn like reeds in wind.

But…

She exhaled and half knelt, stowing the dangerous Light Blade like banking a fire.

Sweat poured like rain, her breath rough like sawed wood, her waist dripping red like a leaking jar.

The wound had split, unable to hold after a battle like rope frayed by strain.

Yun Shi gritted her teeth to rise, but pain dragged like mud, forcing her to the wall like a limp vine.

In moments she’d be a target, a lone lamp in a swarm of moths.

“Yun!”

Sham saw the wrongness and fought closer like swimming upstream, her limbs heavy as lead.

She was spent too, earlier battles scouring her like wind over a barren plain.

Seeing hard-won hope about to vanish felt bitter like snow melting into ash.

As Yun Shi teetered on the edge, a gunshot cracked the stalemate like lightning on a ridge.

“Listen up, kill these thankless fools!” A woman’s order cut through like a knife through silk.

Ranks of Witches charged like a black tide, hurling themselves into the enemy like surf.

“Not good, retreat!” The enemy broke like a startled herd, fleeing like leaves before gale.

“What on earth happened…” Yun Shi stared, confusion curling like mist around her brow.

Sham hurried over, just as baffled, eyes flickering like late lamps.

The woman didn’t toy with them, speaking plain like noon light: “I’m Xi Yuan, here by Major Sovalon’s trade order to aid you.”

“The officer sent you?” The question hung like a tossed coin.

“Yeah,” she said. “She promised triple pay, so we came, like hawks to a rich field.”

“Looks like you’ve handled most of it; we’ll mop up the mess, which tastes like stale tea.”

She seemed annoyed, finding these weak foes unworthy of her name, like dull drums at a festival.

“And you,” she pointed at Yun Shi, gaze hard like a whetted edge, “don’t look like a Witch.”

“I’ll let it slide this time; don’t appear before me again,” she said, voice cold as frost.

Years fighting the Clan Head had tuned her senses, picking a familiar scent on Yun Shi like smoke in cloth.

But she left it unsaid, letting the thought drift like ash in wind.

“Finally over…” Yun Shi watched the woman depart and others dive into battle like cormorants, relief loosening like a knotted rope.

“Yeah, it’s over…” Sham answered, her tone soft like dew at dawn.

Blood and gunpowder still haunted their senses like ghosts, iron and smoke tangled like rainclouds.

But weapons could lower now, worries could fall away like stones from a pack.

Dawn lifted a thin blade of light, seeping into this dark corner like a slow river.