“Faya, we’ll carry the storm of offense. You be our shield in the wind.”

A breath steadied her racing heart like mist settling; Eastern Moon Aixue spoke to Faya with soft fire in her eyes.

Faya was a Holy Light mage, a dawn that burned shadows; her strikes and wards bit undead, demons, and monsters like sun on frost.

“I’ll go all out,” Yuyi Mengliu said, flame coiling along her grip on the Blaze Blade like a red serpent. “Lady Faya, keep the ward steady.”

“Mm, I know.” Faya’s smile was a lantern in rain. “In return, you all guard me well.”

She lifted a wand set with a milky diamond crystal that gleamed like moonstone, and chanted, “O holy light, become a shield, guard us—Holy Light Ward!”

Her last syllable rang like a bell. A shield-shaped magic circle bloomed at her feet, ten meters wide, a golden halo pooling like sunlight.

“Oh—this feels so warm,” Eastern Moon Aixue said, tension melting like ice in spring as she glanced at the bright sigil beneath her boots.

“Then let’s strike,” she said, bowstring taut in her voice.

She swept her fire-attribute wand. “Meteorfall!”

Blazing meteors, small falling suns forged from flame, roared toward Mina like a scarlet rain.

“Hmph, parlor tricks.” Mina’s voice was winter glass. “Rexdore, shoot those stones down.”

She didn’t move, as if the cost of summoning a Holy Peak undead and demon was a chain; her doll-perfect face stayed cold.

“As you command, Master,” wheezed Rexdore, his rasp a grave wind. He flicked an incorporeal hand. “Shattering Light.”

Ash-gray lances carved the air like scalpels, spearing for Eastern Moon Aixue; the meteors shattered, flare snuffed by slate light.

“Foxfire Style: Flame Serpents!”

Just as the beams skimmed the ward’s edge, Yuyi Mengliu raised the Blaze Blade and cut, her stroke a ribbon of heat.

Flame serpents burst from the arc, hissing like coals; they met the beams, collided, and bloomed into twin explosions that canceled each other.

“Ophiocaya, don’t idle. Join the fight,” Mina snapped, sparks in her heel as she kicked the demon, impatience cracking like dry wood.

“Hee-hee, don’t fret, Lady Mina,” Ophiocaya purred, crimson gown flowing like wine; her beauty was a thorned rose under torchlight. “I’ll act.”

“Then hurry,” Mina said, frost gleaming on her words.

“Fine. Dark Thunder.”

Bored amusement curved her lips; her pale slender finger pointed, a white reed on a black pond.

Zzzzt…

Dozens of dark-violet bolts webbed the sky like a storm net, shadows flickering purple over their faces.

“What?!”

Shock froze them. The strike was sudden, like thunder from a clear blue, and hands lagged a heartbeat late.

Boom!!!

The Holy Light Ward took the blow like a golden shell. Lightning hammered, but their skin stayed unscorched.

Yet the light thinned like fading dusk; the dome of radiance grew sheer, the magic circle’s glow dimming under the pounding storm.

“Ugh! Aixue, Mengliu—think of something,” Faya gasped, pale as paper, her body trembling like a reed in a gale. “I can’t hold much longer!”

“Lady Faya!”

“But we can’t ignore that undead’s fire!” Yuyi’s teeth were set; her blade worked like a metronome, parrying death.

Rexdore’s attacks didn’t stop; his gray beams kept carving like a relentless saw. The dark-violet lightning poured down like a ruined sky.

“Hee-hee, Lady Mina,” Ophiocaya said, tossing more bolts like lazy violets. “Look, they’re about to collapse.”

“Damn!”

The ward cracked like glass and fell away. Faya half-kneeled, breath ragged, sweat beading like dew.

“What do we do?!”

Eastern Moon Aixue spun like an ant on a hot wok, panic skittering; the magic circle’s edges frayed toward nothing.

“Lady Faya, are you okay?!” Yuyi called, worry flaring like sparks, but her arms kept guarding against Rexdore; the thunder above pressed like a lid.

?!!

A heartbeat stretched, and as the lightning dove like fanged rain, a clear girl’s voice rang from not far away, bright as chimes.

“Guardian Melody!”

A massive musical note, all shielding intent like a mother’s arms, formed overhead; it caught every bolt and held like steel and silk.

“Seriously, what were you doing?” The girl strode in, beauty like sunrise and temper like storm. “That was dangerous!”

“Hoo—Paluna, thank you,” Eastern Moon Aixue said, relief rippling like light on water.

“Lady Paluna, perfect timing,” Yuyi said, her shoulders easing like settling embers.

“Mm. With Paluna here, we can breathe,” Faya added, color returning like dawn.

It was Paluna. They all exhaled together, the knot loosening; her presence felt like a tower bell in fog.

Paluna was a mid-tier Sacred Realm Sound Mage, a lyre in storm; her strength matched Yuyi Mengliu, honed by weaving sound-laws into magic.

Her defense sang like shields; her offense roared like cannons, far above most mid-tier Sacred Realm mages.

“Uh… what is this?” Paluna’s brows lifted, expression odd as she eyed Mina’s lineup.

“The enemy’s a high-tier Sacred Realm demon summoner plus a Holy Peak undead and a Holy Peak demon; and you—two low-tier Sacred Realm mages and a peak mid-tier Sacred Realm Sword Wielder. That’s crooked.”

“No helping it.” Faya gave a wan smile, mist-light in rain. “It’s still three on one. Summoned beasts are part of a summoner’s strength. You can’t ask her to drop them and fight bare.”

“Fair,” Paluna said, nodding like a cut measured true. She stepped forward and plucked her small lyre, fingers swift as swallows. “Ruinous Melody!”

The music was beautiful and deadly, like a blade made of song. A colossal note surged again, now brimming with destruction.

It smashed through Rexdore’s relentless beams like breakers through driftwood and shattered the stalemate in a spray of gray sparks.

“Trying that again? Pillar of Fire!”

Lightning clustered above like violet brambles; Eastern Moon Aixue answered crisp as a snap. Her spell was a Sacred Realm blaze.

A pillar of flame speared the clouds like a scarlet spear, scattering the newborn storm before it could coil tight.

“Holy Light Burst!”

Faya, breath steadied like a candle relit, cast a strike; five holy spheres fell like radiant moons and bloomed around Mina.

“This sacred energy is so irritating,” Ophiocaya said, tossing a bolt with casual grace; her lightning slapped the radiance away like a whip.

“If you’re so eager to play,” she laughed, tongue flicking like a viper’s, “then this lady will join.”

“I suppose I should be a touch serious,” Rexdore murmured; his aura surged like a grave awakening, pressure stacking cold as tombstone air.

“Headache,” Eastern Moon Aixue muttered, shoulders tight like drawn wire. “It was hard enough already, and now—”

“Same,” Paluna said, voice a steady drum. “Hold until reinforcements. Endure like cliffs.”

“I’ll do my best,” Yuyi said, flame-steel in her tone.

“Mm-hmm, I’ll try too,” Faya said, light gathering like a wick reignited.

Eastern Moon Aixue, Paluna, Yuyi Mengliu, and Faya knew victory was a thin thread in high wind; still, they drew their spirits like bows.

They braced like warriors with backs to a cliff, ready to spend everything, not daring a single careless beat.

…