A millennium ago, the Beastkin blazed like banners in a sun-wind, vying for the world with gods, demons, dragons, elves, and humans.

But once the Mizumi Clan rose, your days iced over; human pressure fell like iron lids, and you survived only by bowing for scraps.

While Chief Vikza weighed the storm behind his eyes, the Dark Demon envoys kept fanning flames.

“Chief Vikza, think. Who drove the mighty Beastkin into winter? The Mizumi Clan.

They seized the Central Continent, then turned their backs on the horizon, gorging on endless stockpiles like fattened parasites.

Can you stomach that rot?”

“Winner takes the crown,” someone answered, voice like cold steel.

“Yugou Sage ended the war a thousand years ago; it’s natural the Mizumi Clan sets the rules.”

“Chief Vikza, you Beastkin are too straight-backed for a world of knives, so humans keep grinding you down.

Yes, Yugou Sage earned his glory, but centuries of hoarding turned that merit to ash.”

“But…” Vikza’s voice hung like a leaf in a crosswind, still unsure.

“Most riches pool on the Central Continent, yet the Mizumi Clan bars every gate, their headcount barely a few hundred.

How much can they burn through?

Treasures sit stale like grain in sealed silos, while you become human vassals, lashed by cruel levies.

If not for yourself, think of your children.”

“Do you want your heirs fed only on shadow?

Topple the Mizumi Clan, and the world’s map will be redrawn.

The Beastkin might unfurl their old banners again.”

Under those black-robed voices, Vikza’s resolve clicked like a lock.

“You’re right. Beastkin have slept too long.

Our Tigerfolk will join the Dark Demon.”

“So annoying!” Lingxiao hissed, emotion flashing like a struck match.

“Dear brother, why don’t we just erase them?”

I held her close, smoothing the sparks in her chest; without that, she’d lob a divine spell like a comet.

Who wouldn’t bristle, hearing strangers plot the ruin of their house?

I did.

Reality, though, was a cliff-face.

Most in that chamber were Divine-tier, eleven with the Dark Demon alone; the Wolffolk likely matched that storm.

Even if Lingsaki and Lixue met us here, facing ten to twenty Divine-tier, our odds were a candle in rain.

“Lingxiao, breathe.

They’re a tide, and we’re three boats.

We don’t win today.”

“We’re the Mizumi Clan,” she shot back, cheeks puffed like ripe peaches.

“Are we just letting them plan our fall?”

“For the moment.

They can’t even step onto the Central Continent; talk of overthrow is wind on glass.”

I pinched that sulky cheek, a small moon in my hand.

My anchor was Xinuo, steady as a mountain star.

As long as Xinuo stands with the Mizumi Clan, no storm will breach our roof.

“Ugh—fine,” she sighed, the flare shrinking to ember.

“Petty Beastkin and Dark Demon, daring to bark at the Mizumi Clan,” she muttered, a chill whistle in her tone, and quietly flipped open the Book of Day.

“Lingxiao, what are you planning?”

“Dear brother, I won’t be reckless.

Just a few curses,” her smile curved like a fox’s crescent.

“As long as you don’t get caught, paint your marks.”

“Hehe, of course.

Curse magic—Mark of Eclipse.”

“What does it do?”

“When sunlight touches them, the mark blossoms.

A spark slips under the skin and burns from the inside, like a coal in silk.”

“That strong?”

“Strength-gated.

For them, it’s serious injury at most.”

“That’s enough—a quiet lesson.”

“Sounds like they’re done.”

“Dusk’s falling; let’s link with Lingsaki and Lixue.”

When the Tigerfolk and Dark Demon rose to leave, we vanished on soft feet; doors invite eyes.

Lingxiao spun a teleport, light folding like paper, and we were gone.

Coming here was the right gamble; we netted a whole river.

Tiger and Wolf hands on the Foxfolk—Dark Demon fingers are in that weave.

Back where we split, Lingsaki and Lixue had already arrived, waiting like calm lanterns.

“Lingsaki, Lixue, sorry for the delay.

How’s the Wolffolk?”

I sketched the Tigerfolk scene in quick strokes.

“Emperor, the Wolffolk mirror it.

Dark Demon’s stoking them to join and topple the Mizumi Clan.”

“Infuriating.

If not for Lixue, I would’ve tossed a divine spell like a thunderstone.

I did leave a curse on them while exiting, a tap on the knuckles,” Lingsaki said, hugging my arm, warmth and storm together.

Sisters—two waves beating in rhythm.

“Agreed.

The Dark Demon’s gall is breathtaking.

And Tigerfolk, Wolffolk—choosing to stand against us?”

Lingxiao’s opinion fell like a dropped blade.

“It comes down to human boots on Beastkin necks,” Lixue sighed, voice like night rain.

“Joining the Dark Demon to live another winter is understandable.

Emperor, what’s next?”

“For now, we let it settle.

First, we solve the Foxfolk.”

I don’t believe the Dark Demon can shake a tile off the Mizumi Clan, even with that ‘mysterious partner’ they whispered about.

“Still, keep an ear to the ground,” Lixue warned, an edge of frost.

“That partner felt… wrong.”

“I will.

Lixue, do you know anything about other worlds?”

“Master never spoke on it.”

“Alright.

Lingxiao, Lingsaki, back to the Foxfolk.”

“Okay!”

They opened the Dual Daynight Tomes, pages blooming like twin suns.

“Region Shift.”

A white flash, a clean wind, and we stood in the Foxfolk village again.

“Mizumi, you’re back!

How did it go?” Nalu hurried in, eyes bright as river glass.

“Those sneaky black robes—are they really Dark Demon?” Lanxia swept up beside her, a dragon’s impatience crackling like dry leaves.

I laid the Tiger and Wolf threads out for them.

Nalu’s worry coiled like mist; Lanxia wanted to scorch Dark Demon, Tigerfolk, Wolffolk in one sweep.

“By the way, where’s the kitchen?

Lingxiao, Lingsaki, check your packs for anything we can turn into dinner.”

I let Lanxia’s battle-lust blow past like a high wind and headed for pots and flame.

We found plenty—ingredients humming with Divine Elixir potency.

I picked a few, tucked them in a space pouch, and followed Nalu to the kitchen.

An hour of steam and spice later, I planned to share with Leitir, Elaya, and Yakula, but they panicked, pushing the plates back like frightened birds.

I don’t force hungry hearts.

The six of us ate instead.

“I can feel it!” Lanxia cried, tears glittering as she chewed.

“This dragon’s power is rising like a tide.

Cuisine forged from Divine Elixirs!

I could die after this meal and still smile—sob…”

Her dramatics would fool an outsider into thinking I’d served bitter herbs, not silk-soft perfection.

“Nalu, what’s wrong?

You’ve only sipped the broth.”

“This is food made from Divine Elixirs by Mizumi,” Nalu stammered, fluster twisting like ivy.

“Even an emperor of men wouldn’t dream of this.

I’m just… ordinary.”

“Don’t overthink it.

At home, I cook with this stuff daily.

It’s just dinner.”

“Exactly,” Lingxiao chimed in, eyes ringing like bells.

“Leaving dear brother’s food untouched is a crime against heaven!”

“No need to be stiff,” Lingsaki added, a gentle wave.

“Eat.”

“Th-then I’ll accept,” Nalu murmured, and finally tasted, careful as a deer in first snow.

By eight, bell-night had settled.

We stepped into the courtyard and found a sea of Foxfolk, lantern eyes gathered beneath the eaves.

“Lord Mizumi,” Yakula said, bow bowed low, voice smooth as river stone.

“All our people have assembled.

My daughter and Elaya told them of you.”

“What would you like to say, Lord Mizumi?”

“It concerns your Foxfolk.”

I walked to the center by the gate, breath steady, and let my gaze sweep the faces—every one bright with reverence, heavy as starlight.

Not my favorite kind of weight.

“My name is Mizumi Emperor.

You know why we’re here.

I have one question.”

I let a heartbeat fall, then spoke the path I’d sketched.

“Will you become vassals to the royal house of the Ice Rock Empire?

With the Ice Rock Empire’s protection, your knots will begin to loosen, like ice thawing under spring sun.”