“But Nalu, your worry isn’t baseless. If they dared post a bounty on us, then their blades are already drawn. Once we step into Cerol City, a storm’s waiting.”

The day felt wrong, like mist hiding a cliff. Anyone who becomes an emperor isn’t a fool; even if he didn’t know Lingxiao and Lingsaki are from the Mizumi Clan, he wouldn’t issue a wanted notice on a whim.

And a few days ago, the Dark Demons and the Tiger and Wolf clans came sniffing like wolves on a cold night. Today we reach the Basiloth Empire and trouble blooms again—saying there’s no thread tying these together feels like calling thunder a coincidence.

“Emperor’s right. This could hit harder than last time. When blades flash, Nalu’s safety…” Lixue’s voice carried the chill of rain.

Nalu was a mortal in a field of blades; if a fight broke out, we might not be able to shield her in time, like trying to catch arrows with bare hands.

“True enough. Then what do we do? Send Nalu somewhere safe, let her weather this under a sturdy roof?”

“There’s need,” came the answer, steady as a lantern in wind. “If it explodes, we won’t be able to cover Nalu.”

The sisters’ thought was clear as water—before we reach Cerol City, have Nalu hide where the tide won’t reach, just in case.

Almost everyone in the Basiloth Empire knows Nalu is with us. If the crowd spots her alone on the East Coast, rumors will rise like wildfire, and who knows what the flames will eat.

“How about this dragon escorts you home?” Lanxia suggested, casual as a breeze that hides talons.

“Uh…” Nalu nodded, a touch helpless. “If a battle erupts, I’ll only slow you down, Emperor. How about I wait at home, and we regroup after you settle the Basiloth royal mess?”

“Mm. Let Lanxia take you home, Nalu. Staying in the Basiloth Empire feels like sleeping under a thunderhead.”

A bad premonition pricked my heart like fine needles, but I couldn’t name its shape.

“That’s not ideal.” Lixue shook her head, eyes cool as frost. “Lanxia delivering Nalu will draw eyes like moths to a torch. They might strike. After all that happened today, the Basiloth royals won’t sit still.”

“Fair point…” Lingxiao thought a moment, the pause like a held breath. “Then Lingsaki and I will send Nalu back with space magic.”

“That’s a good plan,” Lingsaki agreed, voice clean as spring water.

“It’s a long way to my home. Will you be alright?” Nalu asked, guilt flickering like a candle.

“It’s fine. It’ll cost us some mana; an elixir will fill the reservoir again.”

“Exactly. No burden, Nalu. Let the current carry you home.”

“Alright. Then I’ll leave it to you, Miss Lingxiao, Miss Lingsaki.”

Not long after, once Nalu was ready, a soft radiance wrapped her like moonlight on snow. In a blink, her figure melted into the light and vanished, as if a dream was folded away.

Time had run deep into night, and nothing else pressed; we washed up, doused the lamp, and let the dark close like a warm cloak.

…

On the other side, in the palace of Cerol City.

Wilsar and Rangetsu were still weighing how to deal with Yumigawa Sumeragi and his people, like gamblers palming knives under the table.

Elite units and the three magus-warrior generals—each at peak Deity—had already been scattered to lurk across Cerol City, coiled springs ready to strike.

At this point, it was time to burn bridges with the Mizumi Clan, even if the fire was theirs alone.

Not long ago, Wilsar and Rangetsu learned Yumigawa Sumeragi’s group was resting at a high-end hotel on the East Coast, a lighthouse for the rich. They were considering a midnight raid—since masks were off, why mind the etiquette?

“By the way, where’s the Basiloth Emperor?” Wilsar asked, voice smooth as a blade’s back.

“The old man saw our deployments and volunteered to join the ambush,” Rangetsu said, lips thin as a drawn bowstring. “He claimed he’d strike first at Yumigawa Sumeragi.”

Rangetsu paused, as if hearing a far drum. “He looked off when he left the palace, but I’ve set shadows to watch him. He won’t stir up anything we can’t drown.”

“So he bows on the surface, but in his heart he won’t welcome us,” Wilsar said, like tapping a stone to test its crack.

“Doesn’t matter. Like the rest of the royals, he’s a puppet with silk strings,” Rangetsu waved off, then suggested, “They should be asleep now, right? Want to strike while the night is thick?”

“A sneak attack… Lixin said that Sword Wielder, Yumigawa Sumeragi, has keen senses like a wolf under a full moon. He’ll likely sniff us out fast,” Wilsar said, unimpressed.

“Then we hit from range.”

“From range?”

“Yeah. Send a few Holy Peak mages to the East Coast for an indiscriminate bombardment. It’ll make their night a thunderstorm. If we’re lucky, it’ll wound them.”

Rangetsu’s eyes flashed with a cruel light, words as blunt as a club to Wilsar’s ear.

“Guildmaster Rangetsu, you mean to drag the East Coast’s residents into the blast?” Wilsar’s tone cooled like ice in a basin.

“To achieve great things, don’t fuss over pebbles in the stream. The priority is to bring Yumigawa Sumeragi to heel.”

Even though Yumigawa’s side had only five with real bite, this side had Wilsar, a peerless Law Realm titan, plus Rangetsu, Lixin, and Nakat—three Overdeity Level powerhouses. Deity-level fighters, counting Dark Demon and Basiloth’s pool, ran to a dozen or two, not even counting the hidden guardians of great nobles. Still, Rangetsu’s heart stayed knotted.

After watching Lixin’s loss, Rangetsu knew ordinary Deity-levels were straw arrows against Sumeragi’s group. In this world, Deity might be first-rate and revered, but in Wilsar’s Inner World, mid-stage Law Realm—what they call “Deity”—was only second-rate.

So, to make the plan hold, he’d use any means, like a hunter setting fires to flush the tiger.

“Hitting them before they reach Cerol City would be best,” Wilsar said after a moment, the words ticking like beads. “But I won’t approve torching the whole East Coast.”

He offered a middle path. “Focus the bombardment around the hotel where they’re staying. I’ll have Lixin go with them.”

“Good! We’ll do as you say, Mr. Wilsar.” Rangetsu’s eyes lit like lanterns; with an Overdeity Level like Lixin, the chance of a clean strike rose like a favorable wind.

“Time’s tight. I’ll inform Lixin and Nakat and lay out tomorrow’s plan. Guildmaster Rangetsu, pick your raiders.”

“Of course.”

Orders exchanged, Wilsar and Rangetsu turned and left, and the vast hall sank back into silence, like a lake after a thrown stone.

…

Deep night over the East Coast, Lixin and three black-robed Dark Demons slipped from the dark like ink spreading in water.

Lixin stood at Overdeity Level; the three wore Holy Peak strength. It sounded light, but it was enough to bombard the district around Yumigawa Sumeragi’s hotel. This was meant to cause trouble, not to crush the tiger’s spine.

“Any way to pinpoint Yumigawa Sumeragi’s location?” Lixin asked, her search spell sweeping like wind through grass, finding nothing. Their aura was hidden behind some veil.

“Lady Lixin, leave it to me.”

The shortest black-robe lifted a gem-studded wand, chanting like a drumbeat in fog.

“Summon—Detection Wraiths!”

A black sigil with blood-red edges bloomed before him, and ghostlike shades poured out of the array like smoke, dropping across the East Coast. He was a demon summoner, a shepherd of shadows.

“Oh? What are those?” Lixin asked, curiosity glinting like dew.

“Detection spirits, my lady,” came the quick reply. “No attack strength, but in concealment they’re absolutely silent. Huh? Already got it—Lady Lixin, Yumigawa Sumeragi’s party is at the Eastsea Hotel, southwest ahead. Tallest building, most luxurious decor.”

He switched mid-explanation into a crisp report as the wraiths whispered back.

“Figures. The Mizumi folks wouldn’t pick a common inn. They’ll choose the top shelf every time. Such luxury,” Lixin said, lip curled like a knife edge.

“No, Lady Lixin. If money’s no concern, most people choose better lodgings. Only the tight-fisted or the poor make do,” the tall, thin black-robe with glasses remarked, pushing his frames, voice as dry as paper.

“You again? Last time you defended the Mizumi clan, fine. But right before a raid?” Lixin snapped, temper sparking like flint.

“I merely speak the truth,” he said, and nudged his glasses once more.

“I’m done bantering. Move to the sky over the Eastsea Hotel. We start the night raid now.”

“Yes!”

…

High above the Eastsea Hotel, to avoid spooking Yumigawa Sumeragi, Lixin shelved Overdeity magic. She wove Deity-level spells instead, with softer mana ripples but teeth enough to bite stone. The others did the same. The summoner called up fiends, undead, and demons at Holy high-tier and Holy Peak to join the strike, a flock of night birds gathering.

Seconds passed. In the air, thunder and darkness thickened like stormclouds. One divine spell and two forbidden spells—Sacred-tier by another name—melded into a sea of magic, painting the night in violent colors. The fiends, undead, and demons braced their strongest strikes, quills raised.

More seconds ticked. The spells swelled to the edge, a brimful cup trembling; one moment more and control would spill.

“Night raid—commence!”

At Lixin’s shout, a skywide deluge of magic, along with the twisted volleys of fiends, undead, and demons, poured down toward the Eastsea Hotel like a black rain.