“That’s right—the same lot who stirred up a storm here earlier. And that storm only broke because you kept poking the hive.”

Heat rose in Getuya’s chest like a brazier fanned by wind. “You idle young lords bully commoners for sport, fine, that’s gutter water. But you dared harass people of the Mizumi Clan. If they get truly angry, the Ice Rock Empire wouldn’t last a heartbeat, even if it died ten thousand deaths.”

Gulp.

The young lords swallowed hard, throats clicking like dry reeds in a breeze. Cold sweat beaded on their brows like dew under a bleak dawn.

“G-General Getuya… may I ask a question?” The one who’d stepped up first tried to sound steady, but his voice quivered like a string in a storm.

“What?” Getuya’s glare cut like sleet. The young lord flinched as if a blade had grazed him.

“T-then… who are they, really?” He wasn’t alone. The other young lords stared at Getuya with hungry eyes, like birds circling a sealed granary.

“You think you’re worthy to know?” Getuya’s snort was a crack of frost. “But fine. Better you learn, so you stop strutting like roosters under the wrong sky.”

“Listen up, all of you.” He raised his spear hand high, then slammed the butt to the ground. The impact rolled out like thunder over stone, and a few who stood too close toppled like reeds before a gust.

“Among them, three are adults from the Mizumi Clan—the golden-haired youth, and the twin sister beauties. The blue-haired one is Dragon Kin, their mount. The remaining two are the Mizumi elders’ friends. Now do you grasp what kind of untouchable storm you tried to grab by the tail?”

“The Mizumi Clan… no way!” Color drained from every face in a blink, like ink washed from parchment.

“Glad it’s finally sinking in,” Getuya said, voice cool as mountain shade. “Yes—the Mizumi Clan of the Central Continent. The highest power under heaven.”

Despair spread across their features like winter shadow swallowing a field. Getuya found himself oddly satisfied, the taste sweet and cold, like iced wine on the tongue. No wonder they loved throwing their weight around. Power is a heady brew.

“W-what do we do… should we rush to apologize?” one young lord said, ashen as fallen ash. His panic sparked quick nods, like tinder catching.

“Apologize? With what?” Getuya’s laugh was a knife on ice. “Do you know what the Mizumi Clan is? The first in history to hold an entire continent alone—the Central Continent, largest in land, richest in resources. What can you offer? The trinkets your families hoard like dragon eggs aren’t even trash in their halls. And you dare call that compensation?”

“Then what do we do? If we’ve offended the Mizumi Clan, there’s only a dead end.” Their voices dimmed, like candles snuffed one by one. They pictured divine artifacts and Divine Elixirs as common as pebbles on the Central Continent, and their hearts shrank like salt in rain.

The Mizumi Clan stood as absolute sovereign of this world, roots deeper than bedrock, foundations beyond imagining. And every outsider living on the Central Continent served as their guard, a forest of blades at their call.

“You think the Mizumi elders are as petty as you?” Getuya’s tone cooled, a calm lake before dawn. “If you want to keep breathing, follow my order. Go home. Do not step past your gates, not one foot, until those lords leave the Ice Rock Empire.”

“Understood!” The shout cracked like breaking ice.

They bolted, feet drumming like a retreating rain, terrified a slow step might cost a life.

“Whew.” Getuya exhaled, breath fogging like mist over stone. “His Majesty’s command is finally done. Now Lord Yumigawa Sumeragi and his companions can enjoy Moonhundred City in peace.”

In less than a minute, the street emptied like tide fleeing the shore. Only Getuya, his soldiers, and shop staff remained, the air suddenly cool and sparse.

“Move. We’re heading back too. I hope we make it in time for His Majesty’s welcome banquet for the honored guests.”

“Yes, sir!” Voices rose like pennants catching wind.

Getuya led his troops at a brisk march toward the imperial palace of the Ice Rock Empire.

Once they were gone, the shopkeepers and clerks clustered like sparrows on a branch, whispers fluttering. Resolve lit their eyes like lanterns at dusk. They would work with twelve parts focus and leave Lord Yumigawa Sumeragi and his people a flawless impression.

In no time, word of Yumigawa Sumeragi’s presence in Moonhundred City would spread like wildfire, racing across the Ice Rock Empire and the Northern Abyss Continent.

…

Elsewhere, in a quiet corner of Moonhundred City, Lixin stepped from shadow into sunlight like a white lily breaking through frost. She wore a strange white bodysuit traced with maddening arcane runes, gorgeous and uncanny like starlight on deep water. Her brows knit, delicate as a brushstroke. “I didn’t expect the Mizumi Clan to sit so high above the clouds in this world. Then again, with an Origin Realm patron at their back, how could they not? But for a single clan to monopolize the largest, richest Central Continent… what a waste.”

She’d heard Getuya’s exchange with the young lords from start to finish, every word like a pebble dropped into a still pond.

“The Mizumi Clan must have that monopoly with their Origin Realm backer’s permission,” she murmured, thoughts circling like hawks on a thermal. “Was it really just to fix their throne in place?”

In Lixin’s world, land and resources were scarce as rain in a drought. The idea of holding an entire continent alone felt unreal, and her envy rose like heat mirage off sand.

Now, at last, she understood Rangetsu’s desire to topple the Mizumi Clan, a little at least. This world’s precious resources pooled on the Central Continent like stars in a single river. Who could look and not covet?

“Enough. No use brooding.” She shook her head, sleek hair swaying like ink in water. “The Central Continent will be freed from the Mizumi Clan sooner or later—if every step of our plan lands true.”

She flicked a spell like casting a silken thread. A message sped to Wilsar, telling him that Yumigawa Sumeragi’s group had entered Moonhundred City.

“Oh? The Mizumi people are this close?” Wilsar’s reply came warm and swift, like a torch catching kindling. “Good work, Lixin. Timely news.”

“It’s my job. By the way, Mr. Wilsar, how goes the Basiloth Empire matter?” Her voice was calm, but expectation glimmered like dawn on frost.

“Smoothly. Not long ago, that Being sent me an order.” His words felt heavy, like stones laid in a foundation.

“Truly? What order?” Curiosity curled through her like smoke.

“That Being says the Mizumi Clan’s Origin Realm backer is currently tied down by her hand. They won’t get free anytime soon. So we’re to accelerate all plans, especially Basiloth and the moves against the Mizumi entourage.”

“That’s excellent.” Lixin’s eyes brightened like twin stars. “I’ve learned their travel route hugs the Three Great Empires. They’ll visit the Basiloth Empire for sure. In that case—”

“Rest easy,” Wilsar said, voice like a calm drum. “Two or three days more and we’ll have the Basiloth Empire fully in hand. Their Emperor is already a puppet of the Dark Magic Guild.”

“Splendid. I’ll keep shadowing the Mizumi people.” Her words were a blade slipped back into a scabbard, quiet and sharp.

“I look forward to your next report.” A smile colored his tone like wine in a cup. “Guildmaster Rangetsu and I will draft a plan to catch those Mizumi in one net.”