“Easy, Eli. Don’t blow up. There’s still a path through the thorns. We go to Holy Paris and find Edlyn; in this short window, she won’t be touched.” Liqianyu glanced at Eli, his face like winter stone and fists knotted like roots, then patted his back with a steadying hand.

Eli’s lashes trembled shut like moth wings; after a breath, he nodded. “You’re right. If I lose my cool now, our chances freeze for real.”

He leaned against the Abyssal barrier, black as still water, and looked at the Demon Race trapped behind it. “You all… be ready. War rolls in like a storm. When I’m back, the real fight begins. You’re the core of me and the Demon King. Carve it in your bones. Prepare for war.”

Ruize, capital of Holy Paris.

Once it glittered like a lake in sunlight, but fresh from war, the city looked like a field after harvest, bare and wind-swept.

Only a few humans drifted along the roads like loose leaves; nonhuman merchants showed up more often, like bright birds in a pale sky.

Eli wore a wig like a silk-black cloud and clung to Liqianyu’s arm, his eyes darting like swallows.

Liqianyu was dressed as a gentleman, a neat mustache like a sketch of shadow above her lip, a felt hat brim cutting a clean line; her face held a cool, solemn shine.

She looked sharp as a blade fresh from oil.

Eli had shifted his body; he stood a half head shorter than Liqianyu—she’s sitting at one seventy-four now—petite as a reed by water.

A dark bow nestled on his head like a night butterfly; pink hair spilled soft as peach blossoms; gauze kissed his delicate ears like mist. A water-blue gown flowed like a stream, white lace stockings framed his small feet, and silver heels clicked like tiny bells; he was a seventeen-year-old dream, both elegant and sweet.

Black lines practically slid down Liqianyu’s face; as “he” walked Eli past guards whose gazes clung like ivy, she felt her whole spine shiver like a plucked string.

She looked down at Eli, who noticed nothing odd, and swallowed like a fish gulping air. She leaned to his ear. “So… those heels. You doing okay?”

Eli shrugged, calm as a pond. “Fine. Just a bit of a hassle. I can’t run. Feels like if I run, my knees will surrender.”

“Yeah… that’s scarily accurate,” Liqianyu muttered, her expression a tangle of lines like bad calligraphy.

“Uh… are you Mr. Li Gongxuan, Mr. Li?” a guard cut in, his voice stiff as a spear shaft.

Liqianyu blinked, then caught up; she smoothed her lapel like pressing creases from paper, and looked at him with a cool gaze. “That’s me. What is it?” The baritone dropped out of her throat like a clean, dark bell—pure Li Gongxuan.

The guard lifted his brows, then pasted on a grin like a quick patch. “N-no offense. Routine questions.”

Liqianyu nodded lightly, a leaf on still water. “All right. Anything else?”

The guard glanced at Eli, then at the papers in his hand. “Then this must be Miss Lovis?”

Eli coughed twice, tuned his voice like a string, and answered crisp as an apple bite. “I am.”

“Mm… good… no problem.” After a long comparison, the guard finally nodded, slow as a pendulum, and smiled. “All right, both of you can enter safely. Sorry. We’ve had too many nonhumans lately, and with leadership changing, orders from above are strict. Please understand.”

Eli flashed him a smile and winked like a star. “Got it~”

The guard clutched his chest like catching a flying bird and marched off buzzing with excitement.

Liqianyu’s face went black again, ink spreading across paper.

Damn… didn’t think he was into that flavor. Looks like an old hand, too.

And… he’s got more femininity than me.

She slid to a wall and scratched at it like a cat scuffing bark.

Once they slipped past the checkpoint, Eli finally exhaled, breath rolling out like fog.

He saw Liqianyu slumped against the wall, color washed out like old paint, breath ragged as torn cloth.

He frowned, stepped in, and checked her like a healer reading a pulse. “Huh? I don’t see any curses or other debuffs. Why do you look like a wilted plant?”

Liqianyu let her gaze run over Eli again.

Aside from a small pang of regret about the chest, he was otherwise a perfect lover’s portrait, inked clean and bright.

She tried to hold back and failed. “Hey. No, seriously… how are you this practiced?”

Eli blinked and scratched his head like a puzzled dog. “Huh? What’re you getting at?”

“I mean… what’s with this whole state of yours? It’s way off, right?” Liqianyu raised her voice, words sparking like flint.

Eli looked himself up and down, thoughtful as a scholar; then he looked Liqianyu over. A bulb practically clicked on above his head. “Oh! You mean why I’ve got more feminine flair than you!”

“Go to hell, you perv!”

…

“All right, no more jokes,” Eli said, rubbing the bright red handprint blooming on his current pink-soft cheek like a peony.

Liqianyu bit her lip like biting a plum. “With you like this, it’s hard to keep a straight face.”

Eli shrugged, casual as a breeze. “It’s just to dodge scans. As long as nobody thinks ‘male’ around me, those mass sweeps won’t fall on my head. And you… you’ve got the spring-in-step of a man, lively as a drumbeat. Perfect decoy shield.”

Liqianyu scratched the wall again, silence stacked like bricks.

“Fine. If you really can’t stand it, I’ll switch back,” Eli said.

He stretched taller by over twenty centimeters, his height shooting up like bamboo; the face stayed the same—Eli’s face, carved cool and fine.

Liqianyu’s eyes flipped white, her gut rolling like a river in flood.

Eli’s build wasn’t bulky; it would’ve been a near-perfect body, but squeezed into a dress two sizes too small, the look ballooned like bread in a hot oven.

He turned into a full-on Amazon Barbie, no mercy.

Liqianyu met him with a punch like a lightning clap. “Change back. If you don’t, I’m going blind.”

Eli shrugged, then flowed back into the maiden form, and slipped his little shoes on again; silver flashed like minnows.

Liqianyu eyed him with lingering regret, then touched her nose, a small, guilty gesture.

A thought struck like a spark. Yiyi shares this face with him… I could go tease her later!

But it wouldn’t taste the same if Eli isn’t the one in these clothes.

Realizing how dangerous that thought was, Liqianyu fled to the corner and clawed the wall again like a pen losing its cap.

Have I gone bad from hanging around Eli too long…

Eli stretched, pale underarms flashing like porcelain.

Liqianyu shivered again, hands flapping like fans. “All right, all right, I get it, you’re more feminine than me. Cut it out. Any more and I’m done.”

Eli blinked, baffled, like a cat watching rain. He had no idea what he’d done.

“Back to the point. You sure it’s fine, leaving Angela in that place?” Liqianyu asked, words falling like small stones.

Eli patted his chest with confidence, smile bright as morning. “Relax. It’s very safe. The Abyss’s demon generals are right next door.”

“But your Abyssal generals can’t come out. Who protects her then?” Liqianyu frowned, a crease like a knife mark.

“Relax, relax. No one knows that spot except us and Birand. Even if they did, who’d spend that much effort to hunt a little girl outside the war-line? As for beasts… you think a little Angela, who’s fused with half the High Angels, will fear wildlife?”

“Mm… fine,” Liqianyu said, rolling her eyes like marbles.

“So what’s your plan, genius?” She jabbed his chest with an elbow, a playful prod like a twig.

Eli stroked his chin, thoughts drifting like clouds; after a long pause, he said, “No fancy schemes. We go straight to Birand’s lair and find him.”

“Front door brawl?”

“Of course not. Did a mule kick your brain? Just us two? Charging in is charging to the grave.” Eli gave her a side-eye, a slash of allure like wine.

Liqianyu’s mouth twitched; she told herself to stay calm, to get used to it. “You said… go straight to him.”

“Not that straight. He’s been searching for allies. We show up claiming we carry a message from the Far East. Perfect.”

“…That sounds kind of dumb.”

“Tch. You don’t get it. Birand eats that bait like a carp. The dumber it looks, the better it works on him.”

“Uh-huh.”

“The more brain-dead, the more effective. You wouldn’t understand.”

…

“Envoys of the Far East?” Birand’s brows climbed, confusion a shadow on his face. He looked to Manstein; Manstein stared back, just as blank, like two owls at noon.

“Didn’t the Far East disappear? Where’d an envoy come from?” Manstein asked, voice dry as parchment.

Birand rubbed his jaw, thinking for a spell like counting beads; then he nodded, a touch stunned. “Right. I know who it is. I’ll meet him myself. Just make the arrangements.”

“Yes.” Manstein bowed like a reed in wind and left.

“The Far East… so that fellow chose this trick to reach me? Interesting,” Birand said, a smile thin as a knife. He raised his glass; red wine glowed like dusk blood, and his laugh carried a faint mockery.

Snatching Edlyn back was the right move; at least my strength gathers like a drawn net.

This time, when the Celestial God wakes, it’ll be worse than the first storm I faced.

I have to be ready—blade oiled, gate barred, heart steady as stone.