Every face in the crowd bristled with steel, a forest of blades under a gathering storm. Rebecca’s grin unfurled like a banner; with every newcomer, her odds swelled.

“Reinforcements from the Church,” Yun Shi said, voice level as still water amid their shock.

“Reinforcements? For real?” Gasps rippled like pebbles tossed into a pond. No one had braced for a turn this sudden.

“Of course,” Shitou Yuya said, his tone flat as iron. “We fought here in plain sight. That woman stalled us to buy time. Now the rest arrive, and we’re sunk.”

Whether he spoke to Yun Shi’s side or to his own, the words fell like cold rain. It didn’t matter. Only the cliff ahead mattered—the crisis with no handhold.

Long before this, the Church had chosen to send the Third Vessel Soul to seize Yuuya’s group—one hunter, alone, brimming with confidence. Yun Shi’s abrupt entrance had cracked that blade’s arc, buying breaths and blood.

The Church had emptied its coffers this time, a tide meant to smash the Underworld’s reefs. The hidden world had feuded for centuries, wars blooming like night fires without end, bodies counting past numbers. The cost wasn’t coin or soldiers alone. It was wounds that never knit, grief kept in the dark like a sealed jar—unknown to the sunlit streets.

So the Church meant to rule the Underworld. Maybe the intention was clean as snow. But people didn’t bow to a winter they didn’t ask for.

Yuuya felt it the same—bitter as tea gone cold.

“So. How do you plan to resist?” Rebecca looked them over like lambs before the knife, a flicker of regret passing like a cloud. She hadn’t expected it to end this quick.

“Do we need to say it? You think we’ll walk back on a leash?” Yun Shi rose, her voice a blade of frost, firm enough to ring.

“I never planned to spare you. First Vessel Soul—especially you.” Rebecca’s gaze slid to the girl in the black cloak, eyes cold as sleet.

Born from the Clan Head’s line, and into the filthiest fate to become a Witch—Rebecca had once thought this girl might understand her. But the wind blew from different peaks. That alone demanded a lesson.

“Everyone, hear me. Leave Shitou Yuya, Shen Ling Zou, and Kananin Rin alive. Kill the rest.”

The old plan wanted those three breathing. Yun Shi’s side was a wild spark outside the script. If they weren’t on the list, there was no point wasting daylight.

Church fighters lifted weapons like a rising tide, Mystic Power gathering on their skin like stormlight. The air tightened before the break.

Mizuki and the others fell back a few steps, nerves drawn taut like bowstrings. Today was a rotten peach.

“Just our luck,” Moa said with a rueful smile, as thin as cracked glaze. “Not a single good thing so far.”

“If we don’t fight, we die,” Sham said, voice steady as a drum.

“Right, Sham,” Moa breathed.

“…No matter what, I won’t back up. Not an inch.” Mizuki strode forward, taking the front like a tree taking wind. It wasn’t pride. It wasn’t impulse. It was the bare fact—no road behind.

“Breathe. There’s always a turn in the path,” Yun Shi said, anchoring her voice like a lantern in fog. Calm first—she forced her mind clear, hunting options like a hawk scanning fields.

The enemy didn’t gift time. A shout cracked, and they surged like a breaking wave. Mystic Power flared in a blinding wash, attacks rushing in like hail.

“Watch it!”

Everyone pulled Mystic Power tight, shaping the best shield they could. It felt like holding a gate against a flood.

As said before, only Mizuki and Andrea still had full bite, and even they had bled energy against Rebecca. Yun Shi, Moa, and Sham ran on embers, not flame.

So only Mizuki and Andrea stepped into the wind and held the line.

Andrea’s blade dropped like a guillotine, cutting one foe clean. Mizuki covered with a machine gun’s wildfire, brass singing on the ground. Long drills had woven their movements into one thread.

“Sawagawa Moa, how much do you have left?” Yun Shi called, words clipped as a knife.

“Not enough. I can hold ten minutes at best,” Moa said, breath ragged as torn paper.

Mystic Power spent itself like blood. Her limbs felt hollowed wood—the mark of a well run dry.

“I’ve got some left. If I amplify you… can you cut more in that ten minutes?” Yun Shi’s eyes were flint. Every word weighed like a stone. Moa listened as if to thunder in the distance.

“You mean that move?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Violet light unfurled on the ground like a blooming iris, drawing eyes even mid-slash. Even Mizuki flicked a look, caught by the glow.

Yun Shi pressed her palm to Moa’s back. She poured out all her Mystic Power, a river running into Moa’s core without end.

Moa felt her strength roar up like a furnace kicked open. The lightning sphere in her hand swelled, a storm-heart growing three sizes in a blink.

Boom!

A bolt dropped from heaven like a spear, smashing the earth, ripping a seam through soil and stone. The energy raged like heatwaves rolling off desert sands.

“Ahhhhhh!”

The front ranks took that sudden fury head-on. They burned and twisted, screams thinning into smoke.

“Again!” Yun Shi hissed, shoving more power into Moa, feeding the storm until it howled.

Boom!

Arcs lanced from Moa’s body like thrown javelins, ripping through torsos, cutting men open like paper screens.

Boom!

Lightning fell like a meteor shower, bright and terrible, beauty wrapped in ruin. There was no time to dodge. Death struck like rain.

“So this is the Thunder Lady…” Rebecca’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of genuine surprise like frost on glass. In her memory, this Witch’s power hadn’t climbed this high.

The First Vessel Soul, then?

It was likely. Otherwise, how could the Thunder Lady spit such wild lightning on a dry well?

Night Phantom. First Vessel Soul. She’d hidden talons under silk. Underestimate her, and bleed.

“Insane…” Mizuki breathed, looking toward Yun Shi and Moa as if at twin stars. Their duet was deadly and clean. Her own hard-won progress felt like a step behind again. So—work harder. Grind the blade.

“Struggle all you want. It ends here!” Rebecca’s voice cracked like ice.

Snap!

She stepped into the thunderfield, calm as a rock in whitewater. Her body touched the lightning, and the storm unraveled like thread cut sharp.

Yun Shi’s teeth clenched, frustration flaring like a coal. No matter how she angled the blade, Rebecca’s cheating gift swallowed it whole.

What now? How do we cut a thunder-eater?