Birand was helping Manstein seize all of Holy Paris, moving like a knife through silk as he culled key royals one by one.

At this hour, he found himself savoring the hunt, like frost drinking moonlight on stone.

The Netherworld wasn’t the same as the half-soul he lacked; some surges still bucked the bridle under his ribs.

In truth, it was simple; killing rinsed his mind like rain rinses a blade.

Each life he cut down felt like a cold baptism, a lift like incense rising through dusk.

That made one thing clear: Eli could never be left roaming under the sun like a loose spark.

When the plan was done, he would swallow Eli whole, like a serpent taking its missing ring.

Otherwise, a hollow would rattle in his bones from start to finish like wind in an empty gourd.

That gap was likely the hinge of Eli’s resurrection; even fused with the Netherworld, his own future stayed fog.

He refused to believe the only road ahead was a grave, so he kept testing the walls for a crack like water finding seams in rock.

What he told Eli before had been true, hard as iron laid on ice.

The Netherworld had used its office to dredge shards from the Sea of Time, like nets pulling glass from dark water.

From that, Eli’s future was ash, with only flecks left adrift on that sea like starlight on waves.

That was why he asked Eli to work with him; at least this man was one rock he could stand on in a flood.

“He can half-guess my plan, sure, but if everything he loves faces the ax, he won’t stand still,” Birand said, a winter-thin smile on his lips.

“This isn’t a trap in shadows. I lay the pieces on the table, and he has only one path to walk with me.”

“The Celestial God and the Abyss can’t help him. Only I, fused with the Netherworld, might join him and break that written fate.”

“Pity for you, Eli. You’d never guess I’m also cutting my own chain. Once I claim the Celestial God’s and the Abyss’s offices, I’ll let you go,” Birand said, eyes on the sky with a knife-curved sneer.

“The royal power has withered like a winter branch. The end’s close. How does that taste?” Birand looked back at Manstein, smile warm as a blade.

“No taste. I only know that once you seize the Human Race’s source power, you’ll have me fire it at the Celestial God. That could be our last dusk,” Manstein said, eyebrow lifting like a drawn bow.

“Oh? Cold feet now?” Birand laughed, soft as falling ash.

“No. I won’t back out. I’m just tired of the script. If I had known about Race Authority, I’d never have told you the Godslayer Weapon existed,” Manstein said, shoulders lifting like a man under rain.

He knew the stage was dancing to Birand’s flute, step by step like reeds to wind.

If he walked off now, he might be first under the knife when Birand’s hands came free like a hawk after a lull.

“For the lifeblood of the Human Race and the rights of the Celestial Realm, I’ll work with you. How sure are you?” Manstein’s eyes narrowed, thin as blades.

“Two in ten,” Birand said, raising his face to the endless vault like a wolf scenting wind.

“Two? You’re staking the table on twenty percent? Aren’t you afraid you—”

“I’ve got nothing left to lose. What else can the tide take from me?” Birand cut him off with a soft laugh like water over stone.

“Madman.”

“I’ve always been one. When I led the Human Race and the grand alliance to drive back the Demon Race, I was the wildest flame. I haven’t changed,” Birand said, stepping up to clap Manstein’s shoulder like a general’s drum.

“We share a boat now. Don’t worry. I’ll keep the Human Race breathing. My revenge and my future won’t drown here,” he said, his smile edged with frost like rime on steel.

Halfway through, his grip slackened; the Netherworld’s voice seeped in like cold brine, raising gooseflesh along the spine.

He coughed twice, forced the Netherworld down like a lid on a boiling pot, then sighed to Manstein in a breath like steam.

“Your Excellency, do you know why I said only twenty percent?” Birand asked, a small smile curling like smoke.

“Eh?” Manstein blinked, wrong-footed by the sudden turn like a step on thin ice.

Birand’s grin twisted, fox-bright. “Because… the Celestial God has awakened.”

The world rang hollow for a beat, like a bell under snow.

Eli sat by the fire with Liqianyu, eating meat that hissed like rain on coals, sighing at how hard life is like a traveler counting blisters.

He felt a ripple, stood slowly, and stared at the sky like a man hearing distant thunder roll.

Liqianyu saw the odd look, frowned, and came up to pat him like calming a skittish horse. “Hey. You good?”

“Mm.” Eli nodded, forcing a smile that felt thin as paper in wind.

“What happened? Say it,” Liqianyu said, brows knitting like stormclouds drawing tight.

“The balance broke,” Eli said, voice low as a drum in fog.

Since his resurrection, he could feel streams of power like rivers under earth humming.

Just now, the two currents that hold this world were struck by a strange wave, like a stone hurled into a lake at midnight.

Then the upper current began to churn, violent as a sky in storm and lightning.

“Once, a third force braided between them, easing their war. That thread snapped long ago,” Eli said, face pale as frost on glass.

“Now the upper current has gone feral, erupting like a volcano, while the lower current lies calm as a sleeping sea.”

“And… what happens?” Liqianyu hunched her shoulders, the question slipping out like a sparrow from reeds.

“The upper current is the Celestial God. The lower is the Abyss,” Eli said. “The Abyss still sleeps, but the Celestial God has stirred.”

“All life in this world was shaped by her hands. If the Abyss doesn’t check her, she’ll cleanse all that stands against her,” he sighed, like wind through pines at dusk.

“And my fate gets nailed to the board like a butterfly.”

“Huh? What’s that mean?” Liqianyu blinked, curiosity bright as dew on leaves.

“Nothing. I need to get back to Edlyn. She’ll be the target where the world’s holy aura converges,” Eli said, face set like stone under rain.

“Mm? I’m coming too. I haven’t seen Edlyn in forever,” Liqianyu muttered, a small pout like cherry bite on her lip.

“Fine. Let’s go. I should bring Angela back as well… Angela?” Eli paused, eyes scanning the hills like a hawk over wheat.

On a slope, Angela floated with gold veiling her eyes, her whole body lifted like a lantern against night.

Cold as a machine, her gaze locked on the sky like a spear pinned to the vault.

Eli’s heart tightened like a fist; he moved at once, steps bright as sparks on stone.

He raised his right hand, and blue energy unfurled over Angela like a tide, sealing into a barrier that cut her off from the sky’s message like shutters slamming.

When it closed, her eyes rolled white, and she fainted like a candle snuffed by wind.

Eli carried her back to camp. Liqianyu brought water, worry pooling in her eyes like rain in a bowl.

“How is she?” Liqianyu asked, voice taut as a string.

“She should be fine. The Celestial God’s revival tugs on Akenachel’s memories. That loads Angela’s mind like a storm on a boat. She’ll settle soon,” Eli said with a small, easing smile like dawn light.

“Wow. You know so much now. Where’d you learn it?” Liqianyu asked, curiosity fluttering like a moth.

Eli smiled and wagged a finger, light as wind over grass. “In the heart of chaos.”

“Tch, poser. Who cares,” Liqianyu said, mouth quirking like a cat at cream.

Eli only smiled again, saying nothing, like a stone under clear water.

In his arms, Angela let out a small, aching sound. “Ow…”

“Hey, little Angela, you okay?” Liqianyu leaned in, concern warm as a shawl.

“Mm… what happened to me?” Angela frowned, as if thorns had sprouted in her thoughts and vines tangled.

Her head felt crowded with messy fragments, like scraps blown in by a gale through an open door.

It was like someone was searching for her, then pouring strange language into her skull like sand.

Eli frowned, then rubbed his face and steadied his tone, easy as a warm lamp in winter. “It’s fine. Let those things go. I’ll take you to see your sister, alright?”

Angela kneaded her aching temple, then looked at Eli with a helpless smile. “Alright, brother-in-law. I’m not a kid anymore. But… sigh. Let’s go. I miss Sis too.”

Eli scratched his head, sheepish as a boy caught stealing fruit.

She wasn’t that little anymore.

In some ways either, like flowers in sudden bloom.

Angela froze, then noticed she was curled in Eli’s arms. A strange pressure touched her backside like a wayward pebble.

Her face went odd. “Brother-in-law? Where’s that hand going? Don’t tell me you want both sisters?”

Eli yanked his right hand off Angela’s butt at once, guilt flushing him like heat from a forge.

“Ahem, Angela, listen. I didn’t mean it. I—”

“Alright, alright, move,” Angela said, popping up with a mischievous smile bright as sunlight through leaves.

Liqianyu pouted. “I’m jealous. Angela, you’re never that nice to me. I touch your butt and you try to kill me. Why does he get a pass?”

“You dare say that!” Angela glared, teeth flashing like a fox by moonlight.

Liqianyu shrank her neck, then thought better and raised a small hand. “I protest!”

“Protest denied. Move,” Eli said, giving Liqianyu’s butt a pat like a gavel, then walked ahead, whistling like a carefree thrush.

“You—!”

“Uh, where are we going? My dad said get home… hey? Hey, wait for me!” Gracie blurted, then rushed to catch up like a stray trailing the herd.