A gibbous moon hung like a chipped silver coin in the night. Among the village’s broken bones, a deadly game of cat and mouse played out.

“Don’t hide. Come keep chatting with yours truly, Princess~” Her voice spilled like warm wine through the alleys.

Firefly strolled barefoot through the lanes, a lazy yawn melting into a feline stretch. Her siren grace contrasted with the mass behind her—a semi‑liquid sphere of flesh. Its surface, half gel and half bone, churned like a sea of blood, cresting in scarlet waves.

“With a sigh, if you’re worried the lightning I’d call down would alert your sister, then yours truly just won’t fight you.”

Her tender words belied the blade beneath. A whisper behind a wall pricked her ear, and the flesh‑orb bloomed a blood‑flower. Spine‑thick tendrils shot out, thigh‑wide and bone‑ribbed, and in half a heartbeat the wall shattered into gravel.

She drifted forward, palm on the jagged ruin, and peeked. Nothing but dust. Her lips puckered like a spoiled cherry.

“How boring. You’re not half as fun as that man called Pence. At least he worked his body hard to please yours truly.”

She cried out like a diva denied, then let herself fall back. The flesh‑orb folded into a chair midair, cradling her like silk on marble.

“Enough, you win, Princess. You felt that ripple of mana too. Your ‘sister’ has surely felled the giants at the gorge mouth. Is your heart satisfied now?”

No answer. Silence pooled like cold ink, and Firefly went on.

“Now the road’s clear, and your runners spread the word to meet outside. She’s surely flown so far that yours truly can’t catch up—buuuu—” She mocked herself. “My grand plan, total failure!”

Still no reply, yet a smile unfurled on Firefly’s face like a red silk fan.

“Does that make you happy, Princess?”

As the words danced, her crimson silhouette blinked out like a snuffed flame. In the dark, a pair of hidden eyes tightened to pinpoints.

“Only, sadly, that’s impossible~”

In the next heartbeat, Firefly stood over that shadow. Dozens of spinal tendrils erupted from the orb, streaking toward Mira’s burrow.

Panic slammed through her. No time to slip away—

Instinct clawed for her Time Domain, but the answer was a knife of pain in her heart. She raised her blade across her chest, guarding the throat of life.

It should’ve been useless; the stab should’ve come. Yet, instead of steel and agony, Mira felt wind brush her like a river’s breath.

Dread pooled cold. The wind carried a scent she knew intimately—one that, here and now, cut deeper than death.

The bone spikes bit stone and ground her nook to ash. The figure meant to die there stood instead on an open patch far away—no, two figures.

Shock stung her tongue. Mira turned to the pale, gasping Adelaide at her side, lips parting—yet Adelaide beat her to the words.

“We’ll… go back together, Mira.” The vow rang like a bell in fog.

Fresh from unleashing Crimson Frenzy, Adelaide’s voice stumbled, yet every word landed like a nail hammered true.

Fear and gratitude braided in her chest. She took in the fine cuts on Adelaide’s skin, then simply nodded and tightened her grip on her sword.

“Mm.”

Color seeped back into Adelaide’s pallor, a smile just blooming—when Firefly’s voice cut in like a cold knife.

“Aww, what a touching sisterly bond. Yours truly is about to cry—boo‑hoo.”

She produced a handkerchief from nowhere and dabbed fake tears. Adelaide didn’t bite; a Bloodsword flared into her hand, its tip leveled at Firefly.

“Answer me. Are you Rockridge’s envoy?”

“Rockridge?” Firefly tilted her head, a cat watching a string. “You mean that clown? My master does have dealings with him. Why, do you have questions?”

The casual scorn landed like ash, and Adelaide blinked, almost forgetting her line.

“Then you know he wants living ‘mediums.’ If you bring back two corpses today, you won’t settle his account.”

Firefly crossed her legs, and her lips curved like a hook catching a fish.

“Settle accounts? You’re mistaken, Miss Adelaide. My master trades with that clown, yes—but that’s not why yours truly is here.” She shook her head, stifling a laugh. “If I had to file it, what’s about to happen is… a crime of passion.”

...

Adelaide glanced at Mira. Mira hesitated, then added, “She said she’s your rival in love…”

“…If that’s the case, at least tell me which sin of mine was grand enough for you to weave all this?”

Firefly brushed the air like dust off silk, then shook her head.

“You don’t need to know—and you can’t. The only thing you should hold is this: today, you die here.”

Talk turned to ash. Adelaide’s gaze darkened as Firefly pointed at them; the flesh‑orb behind her swelled like a storm cloud.

The fight snapped taut. This time both were ready. They moved before the spinal tendrils fired, denying any midair re‑acceleration and meeting the strike head‑on.

Mira stopped holding back. Arcs of lightning danced between tendrils, searing the soft tissues that linked the vertebrae, unraveling them into char, then splashing down as black blood.

Adelaide went simpler, harsher. More tendrils lunged her way. She snapped her sword arm once; a blood‑chain blade hissed through air, chopping every spine into segments and baring the array behind.

“nár (firelight)—”

Firefly’s chant rose. A white‑hot mana beam vaporized the decoy tendrils in a blink, then halted, snarling at Adelaide’s feet.

A highly compacted defensive array caught the beam. The impact’s backlash flattened nearby buildings like wheat. The array itself didn’t budge, holding the surge fast. Only a faint resonance carried as wind around Adelaide.

Her makeshift cloak billowed, exposing the tight lattice of layered reinforcement arrays beneath. Firefly’s eyes widened, a spark of surprise flickering.

“Strange. A mere human body bearing that much mana load? You do seem stronger than before.”

“Naturally. Or I couldn’t endure the honor of your meticulous care—hand‑picking a ten‑thousand‑tier Bone Eater to assassinate me.”

Firefly uncrossed her leg, bare soles kissing dust, and sauntered toward Adelaide like a cat approaching cream.

“Meticulous? No, no. Yours truly didn’t pick the Bone Eater to assassinate you. I just thought it was… entertaining.”

“Interesting?” Adelaide watched her with a hunter’s caution. Behind her back, her fingers traced pale red sigils in the air. Firefly seemed oblivious and kept speaking.

“Yes. Interesting—deliciously so. It steals other people’s identities and wears them as its own, a monster that calls itself the host. Oh? Doesn’t that ring a bell?”

Firefly watched Adelaide’s color drain at each word, and her mouth curved in a satisfied, crescent smile.

“What do you think—Jiaqi?”