“Mizumi, please stop Miss Lixue, now—before sparks become a wildfire and Krelia drags the Ice Rock Empire into a full-blown war.”

Nalu’s plea came like a flock of sparrows scattering, all flutter and worry.

“Please, Young Master Mizumi,” Yafina added, voice tight as a drawn bowstring. “If this really escalates, it won’t be a game. Please talk to Miss Lixue.”

“Hey, hey!”

Before I could breathe, Lingxiao bristled like a cat in frost. “He swung first, that so‑called Krelia. Why should we swallow our anger like cold tea?”

She cupped her hands and called out, voice ringing like a bell on ice. “Lixue, don’t hold back. Teach that Krelia a lesson. If you can’t crush him, we’ve got your back.”

“Right. An Ice Rock Empire that small? Not worth a snowflake on a mountain.”

The sisters were twin flames in the wind—no retreat, no compromise.

I could only give Nalu and Yafina a helpless smile, like a lantern in rain. “No helping it. Lingxiao and Lingsaki can’t stand Krelia. Honestly, I’m not in the mood to back down either.”

“Exactly, exactly!”

Lanxia tossed oil on the embers with a dragon’s grin. “An Ice Rock Empire, daring to bark at the Mizumi Clan? That brain‑dead dragon knight and his ice wyrm together are at best low Divine Realm. This dragon can swat them like snowflies.”

“Save your worry. He’s just a dragon knight. I won’t lose.”

Her tone was calm as winter moonlight, yet the steel under it shone like a blade.

“Declare war? So what?” Krelia sneered, chin high as a spearpoint. “You think a crown prince fears a horde of savages?”

His pride grated like sand in a wound. So—

“Blizzard. Sky‑Cleave.”

Lixue moved like falling snow, and two ice‑blue arcs of Sword Aura howled out like winter wolves.

Krelia had his spear up already, steady as a frozen pillar. He braced Leidon, the ice dragon, and met the cut.

Boom!!

Man and dragon skidded half a step, boots scraping frost. Lixue’s sword aura shattered like glass on stone and vanished.

“Wha—she’s strong!”

Krelia’s arrogance cracked like thin ice, shock flooding his face.

“Krelia, we are not their match,” the ice dragon rumbled, voice like glaciers grinding. “She’s this strong at such a young age, and she treats our kin as mounts. Her background is deep as a frozen lake. Perhaps we should—”

“Leidon, shut up!”

Krelia snapped, anger flaring like a torch in wind. “I don’t care who they are. This is the Ice Rock Empire. My turf. Why show weakness to savages? Worst case, I muster the whole Empire and crush them.”

“You’d drag the Empire into this for your tantrum?”

Leidon’s temper smoked like a hot spring under snow, and I sighed inside. They’d barely started, and already they were snapping like dogs over a bone.

“Savages? You struck first,” Lixue answered, voice cold as sleet. “Shameless suits you.”

She flung more ice‑blue Sword Aura, crescent after crescent like winter moons. Leidon twisted through them in a blur, a serpent through reeds, untouched.

“…Nalu, that’s the next Emperor of the Ice Rock Empire?” I asked, my mood like a wrinkled banner.

“With that brain?” Lingxiao added, dry as old tea leaves. “Nalu, you overreacted. He can’t even trigger a national war. Even his Dragon Kin partner talks back.”

Krelia’s brainless strutting doused the sisters’ fury like rain on embers. Getting mad at a prince who leaves his head at home is throwing pearls into mud.

“Leidon, attack already!” Krelia barked, face red as a boiled shrimp. “Stop dodging. You shame me.”

“Krelia, she truly outclasses us,” Leidon said, steady as bedrock. “If we continue, we only humiliate ourselves. Withdraw for now, plan later. You started this.”

“Shut up! Whose side are you on? Praising the enemy while dousing our fire?”

Krelia’s mind was a cracked drum; Leidon’s was a clear bell in snow.

“…Forget it.”

Lixue exhaled a misty breath and sheathed Ice Illusion Moon in one smooth ripple. She turned back, footsteps light as falling frost.

“Don’t mind them,” Nalu said with a dry laugh, their bickering like wind chimes in a storm. “I’ve only heard secondhand stories about Krelia anyway.”

“Seems the outside world wrapped Krelia in a lot of gilded paper,” I said, voice cool as a shaded stream.

Master and servant, we had no respect for the Empire’s crown prince, even with the Greaas family sitting in the imperial capital like a mountain.

“Eh? Lixue, you’re back?”

She rejoined me, snow‑quiet. I blinked, puzzled. Quitting a fight at the first exchange wasn’t her style.

“Boredom,” she said, gaze like winter stars. “Trading blows with that kind of opponent is chewing ice. The Emperor stirs my fighting spirit more. How about it? When you’re free, a spar. Call it sword practice.”

“Gladly,” I said, warmth like sunlight on frost. “I’ve had few partners. My progress lagged because the blade had no whetstone.”

“No wonder you leapt from the first layer of the Nine Cold Labyrinth to the ninth like a meteor,” she murmured, a hint of smile like snow on plum.

“Hey, hey! Dear big brother,” Lingxiao cut in, voice fizzing like soda. “That idiot looks ready to charge again. What do we do?”

“Want us to jump in?” Lingsaki asked, calm as a moonlit pond.

Annoyance pricked like nettles; Krelia was a mosquito in summer dusk.

“Idiot or not, this buzzing won’t stop,” I decided, mind snapping into place like a drawn blade. “We three siblings finish it together.”

Shattered Light flowed back into a sword in my hand, moonlight pooling along the edge.

“Agreed!” Lingxiao beamed, eyes bright as stars. “I’ve wanted to stomp that fool. And fighting with dear big brother? Perfect.”

“Mhm,” Lingsaki nodded, soft as falling petals. “Since the eighth layer of the Nine Cold Labyrinth, fighting by brother’s side feels like spring after snow.”

We stepped forward in unison, three shadows under one moon, and struck.

“Seal—Sword Cage!”

“Chains of Light!”

“Locks of Shadow!”

Siblings think alike like two mirrors facing. We all went for binds—my sword art and their twin magics weaving a net like night and dawn crossing.

“Damn it! What is this? I can’t move. My strength’s draining like water from a cracked jar!”

“Krelia, we’re caught in binding magic,” Leidon warned, voice low as thunder beyond clouds. “Stay calm. Seek a path, not panic.”

As expected, man and dragon were a heartbeat too slow. Light and shadow wrapped them tight like ivy, and the Sword Cage shut like iron frost.

“All right. Farce over.”

For half a month, Krelia and Leidon won’t break that cage. Unless a peak Divine Realm master smashes it with full force, the bars stay like winter iron. Consider it a small lesson carved in ice.

As for the crowd below craning their necks like geese at thunder, we ignored them like falling snow ignores footprints.

“Too light a lesson,” Lingxiao muttered, fingers itching like sparks. She cracked open the Book of Day, ready to call fire from the page, but I raised a hand like a stop in the rain.

“Not light,” I said, voice cool as shade. “Your spells plus my art will hold for days. No food to refill their bodies. The cage draws their energy like a lamp sipping oil. Tell me that isn’t heavy.”

“True. By the end, they’ll beg for death like men lost in a blizzard,” Lingsaki said, eyes clear as ice. “Brother’s lesson will be a nightmare they won’t forget.”

“Ooh—so that’s it. But this makes us look like villains,” Lingxiao quipped, a wry grin like a fox in snow.

“Villains? No,” I said, steady as a stone lantern. “They came to harass us first. A heavy hand suits a heavy offense.”

If the lesson isn’t deep, a viper left alive crawls up the stick to bite your hand.

“I get it,” Lingsaki nodded, agreement falling like light rain. “Spare the snake, suffer the fangs. Without a scar to remember, they’ll hound us without end.”

“Fair point,” Lingxiao sighed, the knot in her chest loosening like thaw.

I glanced to Lanxia. “Done here. Let’s head for Moonhundred City.”

“Roar‑roar, understood,” the dragon girl laughed, teeth flashing like ice. “Mizumi, you’re ruthless to enemies, like frost that never melts.”

“Yeah,” Nalu added, pity as soft as fog. “Let’s hope they keep their lives.”

“And let’s hope the Ice Rock imperial family doesn’t come knocking,” Yafina said, worry thin as smoke.

“Just jumping clowns,” Lixue said, brushing the thought aside like dust on jade. She didn’t spare them a heartbeat.

“Uh…” Nalu blinked, then laughed at herself, a little dry. “Right. With Mizumi and Miss Lixue here, there’s no need to fear reprisals.”

“Heh. If they dare come, this dragon wrecks their palace first,” Lanxia declared, thunder in her grin.

Her bravado was wine‑warm, and I found myself satisfied like a hearth in winter—until—

“I mean, Mizumi’s our backing,” Lanxia added, proud as a banner in wind. “No matter how big the mess, we’re covered. The bigger, the better—more fun!”

Such shamelessness shone on her like midday sun.

“Exactly! If the Ice Rock royals come, Lanxia, go make a glorious mess,” Lingxiao chirped, mischief like fireflies. “We’ll ‘back’ you all the way.”

“Don’t make us sound like bullies leaning on a big tree,” I sighed, a hand to my brow like shade to eyes.

“Leaning on a big tree is a skill too,” Lixue said, one line like a blade through silk. The air froze, then went speechless.

“…Lixue.”

“…Hard to argue with that,” the sisters breathed, nodding like reeds.

“Don’t agree with that!” I groaned, exasperation flapping like a startled bird. “Bullying with backing stains the Mizumi name. Let’s not.”

Seems these sisters need their branches gently pruned.