“The distance will be very, very close. Get ready,” Birand said, his face set like storm-dark stone.

The shard of the Netherworld in him kept whispering warnings like cold wind through bones; danger from the sky swelled like a gathering stormfront.

Birand clenched his teeth, jaw locked like a barred gate.

As expected, he still couldn’t face that one head-on, like a moth balking before a bonfire.

He’d thought every piece was set, like chessmen lined on a board.

Yet the board flipped like leaves in a gust.

Turns out the Netherworld was a damned coward, like a shadow fleeing dawn.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, the word sparking like flint.

He flicked his hand and hid his trembling left behind his back like a wounded wing, lest the dazed Manstein see.

Manstein came back to himself after a long breath, like a diver breaking the surface.

He bowed his head, his brows knotted like a twisted rope.

Birand seemed to catch the thought flickering in him like a fish under ice. His gaze fixed on Manstein like a drawn blade; if the man so much as twitched—

To shield his great design, he’d strike with his deadliest force, like lightning out of a black cloud.

He’d turn the man to mist on the spot, bones gone like ash on the wind.

Manstein flinched, sensing killing intent surge like a tidal wave around him.

It flared for a heartbeat, then clamped down like a lid on a boiling pot.

In that instant, he knew this was a knife-edge moment, life and death balanced like a scale.

If he slipped, this rattled madman would reap him like wheat.

Cold prickles ran his spine, like sleet under armor. That flash of power means he suspects me, like a hound sniffing blood, he thought. He thinks I don’t know? I’m no weakling.

He swallowed, the sound dry as sand, and gathered his scattered thoughts like leaves into a basket.

He straightened into a lord’s poise, like a spear set upright, and gave Birand a slight smile.

“Hero. I’m serious. Right now, the pressure on you must be crushing, like a mountain on your shoulders,” he said, slow as falling snow.

Birand smiled thinly, blue energy coalescing under his mask like frost. “Oh? What are you going to say?”

“Heh. Hero, you’ve got to stay calm. We’re already in the same boat, drifting on a black sea,” Manstein said, shrugging with practiced ease like a cat in rain. “If I hurt you and the Celestial God tracks what I did, my end won’t be pretty. You still don’t trust me?”

Birand frowned, his killing intent ebbing like a tide, though power still coiled in his hand like a viper. He kept the smile. “Keep talking.”

“If my secret hunt for the Godslayer Weapon gets exposed, who does the Celestial God strike first, you or me?” Manstein said, helpless as a cloud in wind, like a man under a gallows shadow.

“Hero, I was just a little shocked by the Celestial God’s power, like thunder over the plains. I’ve no thought of betrayal, so please cool down,” he added, then turned away like a branch bending from the wind.

The words were laid out like cards on a table.

The rest hung on Birand’s mood like a weather vane in a squall.

If the man’s old sickness flared, nothing said would matter; he’d be snuffed like a candle under fingers.

If the man was steady, this was enough; Birand would understand, like ink sinking into paper.

Birand watched Manstein’s back with a furrowed brow, the energy in his hand gathering and dispersing like the sea breathing on a shore.

After a long moment, he sighed, then spoke toward the path Manstein had taken, voice flat as winter light. “In three days, I’ll uproot the royal house. Then you’ll take full control of the human race, and we push the plan ahead.”

“Otherwise… our odds are slim, like dice rolling on edge. You know what waits for us if we lose, don’t you?” he said, the words falling like stones into a well.

Manstein stopped, his footsteps slowing like a pendulum, and bowed his head, snuffing the tiny flame of luck in his heart like pinching a wick.

As he’d said: once the Celestial God and her Celestial Realm legions discovered his secret research into the Godslayer Weapon, then if the Hero failed, he’d be dragged into the grave with Birand, like a prisoner chained to a sinking ship.

He smiled, bowed toward Birand like a reed in the wind. “I understand. I’ll do what I must. You too—learn to trust your ally. Now, please do what you have to do.”

Birand frowned, then finally let the power in his hand drift away like smoke.

He sighed; this wasn’t the time to dawdle, like a hunter wasting daylight.

The passage between the Celestial Realm and the human world had been severed by his own hand, like a bridge blown at midnight.

The Celestial God was awake, but for now she could only cow the gathered races with her presence, like frost flattening grass; to descend fully, the passage had to be repaired.

Otherwise, she might not enter the human world safely; and if her true body came down wounded, he might yet have a chance, like a wolf smelling blood on the wind.

Even without that, he still had odds—if he laid enough groundwork, like stacking shields before a storm.

Birand sighed. “Eli, I’m sorry. I have to move the plan ahead. Your Demon Race… I have to pull you back,” he said, voice firm as iron.

Frost glazed Birand’s face, and the space around him trembled with a ready-to-burst impulse, like air before thunder.

“The Godslayer Weapon… the power of the Netherworld… and me. This time… I will,” he growled, the vow hammered red-hot like steel on anvil.

....................................................

“Move. Something’s about to happen,” Eli said through clenched teeth, tugging Liqianyu, Angela, and Gracia along as they ran back like arrows returning to a notch.

He didn’t know why, but a bad premonition stalked him like a stray dog.

It felt like something he prized was walking toward a cliff edge, shadow long as dusk.

He didn’t need to think. What else mattered to him? Of course, his Demonic Lord, like a lamp in the night.

But Birand had promised not to touch her, words sealed like wax.

So it had to be tied to the Celestial God, like a cloud tied to the moon.

Had the clash of auras already begun, needle to needle, like frost meeting flame?

With the Celestial God awake, holy breath would besiege demonic miasma like a white tide against black rock. The Abyss still slept; the Demon Race had no patron. So… would she move in person to purge them?

The thought chilled Eli’s heart like winter water.

If it came to that, he might twist into another Birand, living on revenge against the Celestial God, like a coal he couldn’t spit out.

He shook off the tangle of thoughts like cobwebs and pounded on.

“Anyway, let it go smooth. The aftershock of her revival was too strong, like surf after an earthquake. Creatures without power were pressed down, like grass under hail.”

He ran, and the plants and beasts along the way all shivered like leaves in a high wind.

It was clear Yulia had woken with fire, like a volcano under snow.

Her target was plain as a naked blade—either Birand, or his Demonic Lord.

He was half a Hero now, a man revived by a Fiend and raised by a Fiend, like iron tempered in black fire.

By that count, he had no ground with the Celestial God, like a bridge with no piers.

From his view or Edlyn’s, their tie with the Celestial God was bound to be thorny, like vines climbing a wall.

“Eli? What’s wrong?” Liqianyu asked, her voice soft as rain.

Eli blinked, curiosity fluttering like a sparrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Your… your body…” Liqianyu said, startled, eyes wide like clear pools.

Eli started, then looked down at himself. Days without sleep, days of running, had burned through his Stellar Power like oil in a lamp.

Once that ran dry, his life force began to feed the flame, like kindling tossed in.

Now his body looked faint, a touch transparent, like a ghost in noon light.

He frowned, sighed, and stopped on the spot like a cart with a broken wheel.

He couldn’t keep this up, or he’d evaporate before he saw Edlyn, like dew under the sun.

He told the others to wander a bit while he found a place to recover, like a bird seeking shade.

It was noon, the sun high and harsh like a white anvil.

Eli sat on a rock under the blazing light, mind reaching for the stars like hands through water.

But there was the rub. He’d spent the journey burning Stellar Power to heal and force speed, like a runner chewing ice.

Now his mental strength was pitiful, a puddle in drought, and he couldn’t stir the vast source above, no more than a feather stirs the sea.

He gave a wry smile, watching his form thin like mist, voiceless for a beat.

Will I run myself to death by running? he thought, sighing, bitterness sharp as willow bark.

With too little energy left, his eyes rolled like loose marbles, and darkness rose like a tide.

Then he felt himself sink into a soft embrace, like falling into fresh snow.

Eli frowned, helpless. “Don’t worry about me… I can keep going,” he murmured, words thin as smoke.

Liqianyu cradled his head, lowered hers, and her long hair fell like a curtain to cover his face.

She smiled, a little bleak, like moonlight on water; pity he couldn’t see it.

She drew him closer, holding him firm against her chest like a shield.

“You’re something else… cold as an ice block and still forcing it. I’m suddenly a little jealous of Edlyn,” she said, her voice half-laugh, half-sigh, like wind through chimes.

Liqianyu sighed. “Tell me, why push so hard?” Her breath drifted like fog.

“I…” The word trembled like a taut string.

“Enough. Hush. Let me help,” she said, the words firm as a clasp.

“Huh? How?” Eli blinked, puzzled, like a child in rain.

Then soft warmth covered his lips like petals, and a gentle power poured into him like spring water.

The softness left at once, leaving him dazed like a man waking from a dream. Strength surged back, and the world’s energy rushed into his mind like a river in flood.

He shivered all over and fainted, falling like a cut kite.

Liqianyu now shone with Stellar Power from head to heel, pale blue energy pairing with her water-blue hair like sky over sea.

She glanced at her own state and sighed, the sound soft as a turning tide.

All along the road, she’d been gathering and patching the energy Eli burned, like stitching torn sails.

But can you gather all the starlight? You can’t. Much of the power in her body had been altered at the root, assimilated by Stellar Power like iron turning to steel.