“My fragments aren’t all back, and you still found me. What should I say, my other half?” Birand smiled like a knife kept in velvet, eyes on the pink‑haired girl chained like iron serpents and hanging from the ceiling like a hanged moon.

“You’ve gotten strong,” Eli said, shackled tight, feet clear of the floor like a kite cut from its string.

Birand’s mouth twitched, a helpless crescent. “If we hadn’t stayed split so long, and if your soul motes weren’t already in me, I’d have swallowed you again.”

Annoyance flared hot in Eli’s chest before his grin snapped sharp. “You? Keep dreaming.”

“Not dreaming, Eli. I’ll say it plain. I’m starting to turn toward the Netherworld.” His voice was cool, like water dripping through stone.

“What do you mean?” Eli arched a brow, disdain first, words after. “You’re not pure anymore?”

Birand paused, then sighed like wind over graves. He turned to the empty room and saluted the air. “I’m sorry, to those who marched with me. I never knew my temper was this vile.”

Eli’s mood flipped to mischief, and his eyes cut like a cat’s. “Nice hobby, though. Didn’t know my other half liked cross‑dressing.”

“Spare me,” Birand said, face frost‑cold. “You think I don’t know why you’re dressed like that?”

Eli rolled his eyes, irritation crackling like dry twigs. “As if you don’t? I wanted a trick. An ambush.”

Birand looked him up and down, brow creasing like a drawn bow. “So you came to assassinate me in a little dress?”

Eli’s face darkened like a storm bank. Words stuck, then died.

Spite rose, hot as pepper. He glared. “One day I’ll put you in a red bellyband and make you sing ‘I surrender’ in front of your men.”

Birand’s expression went black as midnight ink.

Even whispered, Eli’s words rang clear. He knew it was said for him to hear.

“Have some self‑awareness. You’re a prisoner in chains, got it?” Birand’s tone went flat as iron. “Believe I won’t seal your power, sell you to a brothel, pump a few brutes full of aphrodisiacs, and watch them use you till you break?”

Cold pricked Eli’s spine like needles. He grimaced, mouth twitching. “You’re ruthless. We’ve got the same face. You’d enjoy watching me get wrecked? You a psycho who likes seeing yourself—? Damn, I’m enlightened today.”

Birand’s face shaded over. He snatched a goblet and dashed wine at Eli like a red slap. “Shut up.”

“Tch. You can’t outtalk me, keyboard warrior. Unlock me, and I’ll mop the floor with you,” Eli snarled, bravado flaring like a torch, conveniently forgetting he’d been bagged head‑on.

Birand frowned, then turned back to his desk. Paper whispered under his pen like dry leaves.

Eli saw himself ignored, irritation buzzing like flies. He craned his neck to peek, chains biting tight as winter vines. At best, he could lift his head.

Curiosity won. He shouted, voice ringing like a struck bell. “Hey! What the hell are you doing? You grab me and say nothing—what’s your plan? Where did you take Liqianyu?”

Birand glanced up, eyes raking him, lip curling like a hooked fish. “Contacting a brothel. Selling you. In wartime, a beauty like you could headline. They won’t refuse.”

“Hey! No way! I was kidding! You didn’t actually— Hey!” Panic spiked in Eli’s chest like ice. He swung in the air, uneasy as a wind‑tossed lamp.

Birand set down his pen and smiled coldly, winter bright. “Big talk. Keep it up. Don’t obey, and I’ll really sell you.”

Eli’s face iced over. “Heh. Don’t let me catch a chance. If I do— I’ll end you.”

“If you’ve got the skill.” They stared, two blades crossing in the dark.

Birand’s brow twitched. He lifted a palm and struck. The hanging Eli blew apart like ash on a gust.

He looked to the doorway, to someone peeling off a dress and shoes, and sighed. “You came loaded. Even underwear.”

Eli rolled his eyes, pride like lacquer. “That’s called a thorough disguise. You wouldn’t get it. Shut it.”

Birand shrugged, lacing his hands behind his head, watching like a cat on a wall.

Eli felt a gaze crawl over his skin like cold ants. A shiver ran down his back. He frowned, snapped his fingers, and his form flowed back to a man’s.

Birand froze, then turned his head away fast. Damn. Eye‑searing.

…

“You’re too weak. Guards like this are child’s play. Now, where’s Birand?” Liqianyu flexed her wrist like a whip and hoisted a soldier by the collar, lifting him off the floor like a radish from soil.

The man’s face was a map of bruises. His body twitched now and then like a hooked fish.

She’d hit hard.

Liqianyu’s brow rose, doubt a pebble in her shoe. Am I overdoing it?

Now only this one could still move. No one left to talk. She leaned on the wall and pressed her forehead, headache pounding like drums.

A soldier burst in at the door, spear low, yelling “Kill! Kill! Kill!” like a rooster at dawn.

Liqianyu blinked, then grinned, mood bright as sunlight. “Thirsty and someone brings water; sleepy and a pillow drops. Perfect.”

The soldier in her grip trembled. “Th‑there…” He raised a hand and pointed toward a side hall.

Joy sparked in her eyes like flint. She lifted him higher. “Thanks, brother.” Then she flicked her wrist.

He flew, hit the floor, and rolled, world spinning like a tossed gourd.

And Liqianyu sprinted the other way.

Her mind had already drawn a map. I hit this hard, and he still isn’t scared? Then the path he pointed at might be a trap. He wants me to walk into danger and get taken.

So the lady genius marched the opposite way without hesitation.

Pity the soldier. Life leaking out, no room left for lies.

What awaited her was a gauntlet.

The Paladin Legion returned just then, clashing into her like a tide meeting a rock.

The two sides slammed together in a storm of steel.

But how could Liqianyu lose to them?

So when Eli and Birand stepped out of the side hall, they saw a female demon, drenched in blood not her own, gleaming like lacquer under rain.

One hand gripped a broken halberd. The other held a torn Paladin banner.

She planted a boot on a mound of fallen knights like a small hill, laughing like thunder.

Her eyes burned. She was one shout away from “Sparta!”

Eli and Birand shared a look, black lines in their hearts like ink bleeding on paper.

What’s wrong with her? Cursed?

Liqianyu saw them emerge side by side. She saw Eli not in a dress. A stampede of wild horses thundered through her mind.

A not‑safe‑for‑work scene flashed across her thoughts.

She dove headfirst into the script. “Adulterous pair! You betrayed me! Die!”

Both men went blank, then dark, like clouds rolling in.

…

“Oh… you should’ve said so.” Liqianyu rubbed the goose‑egg on her head, courtesy of Eli’s fist, lips pursed like petal tips.

Eli sighed, helplessness washing over him like rain. “I told you to stop reading trashy smut. What’s your head full of, acid?”

“I—I was worried about you,” Liqianyu muttered, mouth pouting like a sulking cat.

“You’ll be the death of me. Stay with you, die young,” Eli said, hand to his brow, exasperation like smoke.

Birand watched them clown around and smiled, soft as dusk. He drew a pocket watch from his coat.

Eli had given it to him earlier, a trade for Edlyn.

He’d thought it nothing. It turned out to be… well, how could he refuse?

Talks of cooperation. Talks of the Demon Race. All of it would have to be reopened.

Watching Eli and Liqianyu bicker like swallows, something wistful stirred in him like leaves in wind. If none of that had happened, where would I be now?

The three walked together, passing room after room like beads on a string, until they reached the top‑floor VIP suite.

Eli eyed the layers of high seals outside, each like a frost rune etched on glass. Awe pricked his chest, sharp as a pine needle.

Birand knew the look and only smiled. “Some things are for insurance. She’s the Demon King, after all.”

He stepped up and undid the seals, layers falling away like mist at dawn.

He waved them inside, then turned to strip away the excess wards. “Go meet the Demonic Lord first.”

“What, afraid the three outside will team up and erase you?” Eli’s voice cooled like steel in shade.

Birand’s chuckle was just as cold. “I’m afraid you can’t.”

Eli drew breath to retort, then saw the hint of a watch chain gleam in Birand’s other hand like a silver snake.

He paused, then sighed. “Then scram. Don’t ruin my family reunion.”

Birand’s smile cut thin. He turned and left.

“Ai‑chan! I’m here to get you.” Eli pushed the door. He froze like a stag catching wind.

His Demonic Lord lounged on the couch like a lazy cat, one hand holding a fried drumstick, the other flipping an old book like autumn leaves.

She saw Eli. Joy burst across her face like sunrise. She crammed the drumstick into her mouth, flung the book aside, and ran to him, light as a swallow.

Eli caught her, an exasperated line across his brow like a brushstroke. “You’re living well, huh.”