Xiaoyuan handled this city-to-country escape like a fox that knew every hedge and ditch.

We met off a night bus by an industrial park. She wore an all-season windbreaker, a toothpick between her lips, and a familiar electric trike idled nearby like a quiet beetle.

“The main road’s flooded with cars, a mixed tide. No clue how many eyes the Organization has there. We’ll cut through Zhuze, take the country road, then Mingtan’s county bus. Their ticket office doesn’t check ID.”

Flying the Sky Island would be fastest, but air control had netted the sky. Changing portal coordinates, opening or shutting gates, all leave sorcery residue like fingerprints in ash. We had to run the old-school way.

“Once we’re on the bus, where to?”

“From Erqiao back to Shuangta, straight to the Association.”

“The Alchemy Association’s transporter…!”

“Right. Looping out of the city is misdirection, so Shadow Curtain International thinks you’re in the rural southeast of Shuangta. By the time they trace nameless stubs at Mingtan Bus Terminal, we’ve already jumped to Sidonia.”

Yekase nodded and swung herself onto the trike’s side rail.

Sandryon sat opposite and asked, “You might have to expose the real you this time. Got a new disguise ready?”

“I haven’t had the time.”

Yekase scratched Rice Rice under the chin. The cat narrowed its eyes like two crescents.

“Then go full mage. With your usual mechanical vibe, the contrast will be sharp.”

“True… it’s needed. But that’s a ‘leave the Cosmic Bubble in a month’ problem.”

“To make a seamless mask, you need time in it first.”

Sandryon produced a massive duffel from nowhere, a magician’s moonlit sack, and started pulling clothes.

An exaggerated witch hat, black lace underskirt, a plain-looking navy robe, garter stockings, lace-up boots—midnight pieces that smelled of old forests and candle smoke.

Yekase saw the setup at a glance and yelped, “I get it. You still can’t stand my mechanical Alchemy, so you’re dressing me as a traditional mage to vent!”

“How’s that ‘venting’? In a few hours, when we walk into Shuangta’s Alchemy Association, a cute little witch draws less attention than you do now. Wide brim hides your face like shadow over water.”

Sandryon snapped her fingers. Fog rolled over the trike like a soft theater curtain.

She handed Yekase the underskirt.

…

Strangely, it felt too big in her hands, but wearing it was eerie perfection, like threads remembered a former owner. Yekase set the witch hat on her head and looked up. “Satisfied?”

She’d been through too much today. She looked tired, and after watching Professor F’s sacrifice she didn’t bother with her usual fake smile. Under the brim, her face held a softness fit for her age, like a flower in light rain.

Rice Rice hopped up and settled on her shoulder like a little king.

“Mhm, mhm. My disciple’s not just a genius; she’s got full marks in looks. And a cat. A witch’s shoulder is a throne for a pedigree cat.”

“You’re demanding a pedigree? Tabby cats are adorable too.”

“Personally, I think only black cats are best.”

“Yours?”

“Mona Lisa. Died of old age.”

Xiaoyuan tried to glance back at the spectacle. Sandryon pushed her head forward, eyes on the road like a river of black glass.

Once the mischief ended, Sandryon’s smile folded away. “How long will your ‘half power’ state last?”

“This is my third time shrinking. My body’s evolved countermeasures. Under a week. I just can’t brawl. Hand me a gun, and I’m fine.”

“Can’t you learn two attack spells like a decent person? It’s not your aptitude; is it a mechanic’s pride? If so, what grounds do you have to call me stuck in Ancient Alchemy?”

…She wasn’t wrong.

If I cling to being a mechanic and won’t learn sorcery, I’m being stubborn. Ancient Alchemy, even with keyboard macros, has long cast times. Modern magic throws in two words and the spell flies. It’s perfect for ranged pressure and damage filler. The only flaw is bandwidth limits, which for me don’t matter.

Yekase took a long breath. “What attack spells can I learn… right here?”

“Don’t ask me. Check the book.”

She dove into the transport box and pulled out a compendium Jiang Bailu had arranged ages ago—truly ages ago—and began to flip through it like turning leaves.

After the offline mess in Cloudlong City, she had worked overtime to upgrade the box to 2.0. As soon as she found the sinking loop, she pushed it to 2.1. The box’s main body was already moved onto the Sky Island. The net covered the whole Earth now—at least in theory. Far links might lag, but that’s a drizzle, not a storm.

With worldwide coverage, a once-silly side function turned useful: fly-box post.

Yekase wrote in a notebook and dropped it into the box. Liu RuoYuan took it out on her end, wrote, and sent it back. Repeat, and you get zero-trace encrypted communication, words riding a hidden current.

“Electric Pierce… impacts devices the caster carries? No. Hard pass.”

Sandryon watched Yekase quietly, a flicker of feeling behind her eyes like a candle guttering, then steadying.

She’d lived five hundred years, seen a thousand faces. When the world entered the Organization era, she hid in plain sight. She had many normal friends, good ties with other Longlifers, but never thought of taking a disciple—especially a loud brat with no respect for elders.

What had she been thinking that day? She could barely remember.

“…Back then, you were just a mortal who’d wither in decades.”

“What’s with ‘you this thing’?”

They babbled nonsense the whole way, and the grief in Yekase’s chest loosened like a knot in warm water. She could start planning the road ahead. She wasn’t the type to drown in one mood. Professor F had asked her to take care of herself to the end. Falling apart would betray that wish.

But… one day, Shadow Curtain International will pay a proper price. That won’t change.

“If I’m building a mask, I need distance from Flash Energy. I can’t cut it entirely. Better to mix in other elements and change the feel.”

She pointed at her eyes. Those made cutting it entirely impossible, a pair of red lanterns that never lie.

“Like what?”

“Make red the base. Seed the spell pool with crimson, demon impressions. Let people wander that way and ignore Infinite Power.”

Sandryon nodded. “Good idea. But Europe’s a future hideout option. If your identity blurs with monsters, the Church’s territory won’t be easy to move in.”

“No worry. I plan to teach in Ivalice. No wandering.”

“City of Ivalice… Planck, that kid? Fine.”

Kid. For her, he was.

“In that case, learn Blood Arrow, Blood Control, and the Mark of Crimson… start with those three. Classics with bright red effects. One cast and people know you’re a blood mage.”

“Huh? You’re an Ancient Alchemy purist. Why’re you so familiar with modern magic?”

“Who hasn’t seen pigs run, even if they don’t eat pork? I’ve fought enough to know.”

Yekase, skeptical, flipped to the index and found the three entries. She dog-eared the pages.

Blood Arrow:

Shoot a jet of high-pressure blood from your fingertip toward a target.

+ More consumption, more speed and blood volume

+ At a set threshold, bloodstains remain

Blood Control:

Freely control blood in the environment that originates from the caster.

Blood leaves the body or is manufactured; after one minute it becomes ownerless, and control fails.

Mark of Crimson:

Temporarily enhance self with blood, from vampire lineage.

+ Less blood inside, more bodily power

+ Grow bat wings and gain flight

“This Blood Arrow looks like a special high-tier Water Arrow. Why have I never seen it? Blood mages seem locked in history books.”

“Check its learning condition.”

Blood Arrow: slit your own artery and let the fountain drench your face.

“I see.”

…

The Association’s transporter was quantum-style. Yekase shook her head. Sandryon rewrote the matrix like a seamstress tearing and resewing cloth, prying the transfer into a portal.

The only real difference is bandwidth. Speaking in very modern language, the old master led Yekase across thousands of kilometers in one step, landing in Sidonia Dragon Fortress.

It was cold, a thin blade of winter, but she adjusted fast.

Xiaoyuan came through last and flooded Mind Energy into the device, breaking it with one heavy wave. I’d meant to ask—her anti-tracking instinct is razor-sharp. She must’ve been wanted once, right?

Aurora was already waiting. Katyusha led us into a parlor.

Three humans and one dragon around a small wooden table. Not a single normal person in the room. It felt like a tea party thrown by storms.

“Nice taste.” Aurora nodded at witch-styled Yekase.

“I picked it.” Sandryon stepped forward to claim credit, like a cat batting the ribbon.

Aurora rolled with it. She grabbed a bottle of red and filled all four glasses to the brim, calling it a historic toast. “After so many years, Huaxia finally fired the first shot against the Sinister Organization.”

“It wasn’t me. A friend wore my mask,” Yekase said, voice small as a string plucked gently.

“But you’re the one who hoisted the Mechbreaker banner. From now on, more people will think beyond passive defense. They’ll consider wrecking that machine.”

Sandryon lifted her glass, and her words heated Yekase’s cheeks like embers.

Truth be told, these three, if they got serious, were headache enough for Shadow Curtain International.

As if feeling the thought, Xiaoyuan took the toothpick she’d clenched since we met, pinched it with three fingers, and snapped it. The crack was clean, a twig breaking under frost.

So… was she saying a handful of elites can’t change the system, that personal heroism won’t cut it?

“My mouth got queasy holding it too long.”

Oh. Never mind.