While the Four Heavenly Kings whispered in the Ghost God City, the walls held their breath like a sealed urn.

On the other side, Nana Toki didn’t relax; her wariness stood like a watchfire in wind. She spent half a month inscribing a village-wide ward in Mida Village’s center, a net of light draped over roofs like morning mist.

Then she handed out yellow talismans to everyone—Harvest Talismans, saffron paper leaves that promised grain swelling like golden seas—and told the villagers to wear them.

The people of Mida Village never doubted her. They kept the talismans on them daily, like chicks guarding eggs. Even at night, they pressed them under pillows as if snow might steal them.

Day by day, Nana Toki tightened Mida’s defenses, weaving them like reed mats against rain.

She also slipped to the neighboring town to listen for storms between the Hedon Kingdom and the Marl Kingdom, testing the wind for any sudden thunder.

No war rumor came. Instead, tales of Lorin and Jade Ring Long flared like brushfire across the taverns.

Since leaving Mida Village for the Hedon capital to become a Hero, Lorin had taken Jade Ring Long to train across the land, footprints marching like iron nails in plankwood.

Nana Toki had no interest at first. But the intact persona of the male lead tangled with the shattered persona of the female lead—two stars in the wrong constellations—and her curiosity rose like a tide.

So she asked around a bit about Lorin, and the stream turned into a river.

He alone quelled the monster unrest in the north, then with Jade Ring Long suppressed a rebellion of the eastern Saint Church, and freed western cities crushed under a tyrant—wildfires stamped out, briars mown clean.

He did good to the edge of the blade, polishing his name until it shone like steel.

In just over a month, the fame of Hero Lorin washed through the Hedon Kingdom like bell chimes at dawn.

And Jade Ring Long, adventuring at his side, received the Saint Church’s legacy and became the new Saint, a white veil floating like moonlight.

Hearing it, Nana Toki’s mood dropped like dusk; her mind caught like silk on thorns.

Wasn’t that girl the Second Princess of the Marl Kingdom? How did she turn into the Saint of Hedon’s Church, a lotus transplanted across rivers?

This plot runs like a wild horse—who’s holding the reins?

Not only that: word said the capital’s king praised Lorin and granted him a title, a laurel hung like gold against the sky.

Now Lorin stood as the face of the Hero class across Hedon, a banner in clear wind.

“No wonder the Protagonist Lord’s persona didn’t break,” Nana Toki sighed on the road back, feelings beating first like a slow drum. “Even without cheats, he rides the wind and waves.”

Not just the male lead thriving; the broken female lead also sipped honey. People and ghosts alike show off; I’m the only one taking punches, like a drumskin in hail.

Thinking of returning to idiots demanding Ling’er Long, her scalp prickled like pine needles.

When will I get the male lead’s treatment—sun at noon, roads opening like petals?

System: “...”

If you get that treatment, what happens to the plane’s male and female leads? The System’s voice crept like fog through pines.

They can do whatever they want. It’s none of my business. Nana Toki’s mood steadied like a stone; she squinted and pouted, chasing joy like a kite.

System: “... Host, that’s the same old scumbag line.”

Thanks. For. The. Praise. Her dead-fish eyes blinked, words dropping one by one like pebbles in a well.

Hm? Why’s the village this quiet? The silence lay like dust over empty lanes.

Back in Mida Village, she didn’t see Ling’er Long at the gate where the girl always waited like a sparrow on a fence.

Nor did the farmers appear on the mountain at this hour; the fields lay still like sleeping cats.

Nana Toki squinted at the bright sky. With weather this fine, they all couldn’t have decided to nap—she’d seen plenty of people when she left.

Did something happen?

Emotion first—unease pooled like cold water—then she opened her task bar. The main quest still pulsed like a dim lantern, but no villagers stood in her path.

A bit eerie, shadows thickening like ink.

She pushed into the nearest house; as expected, she found the missing villagers—sleeping, breath soft like wheat swaying.

It wasn’t just this home. House after house held the same hush, a village lulled by a single spell, like snow over rooftops.

This looked like a big thing rolling in, a storm with silent hooves.

Leaving the last house, she frowned; her heart tightened like wire. She summoned the System to locate Ling’er Long. It pointed to the back mountain, a black dot on white paper.

No hesitation. Nana Toki dashed toward the back mountain, a streak like a swallow.

She’d counted for half a day, yet missed a few pieces; her misstep glittered like broken glass. This time, she’d been careless.

A rare ugly shade crossed her face, as if ash smudged porcelain.

“Ah… caught,” breathed a voice like silk tearing.

At the foot of the back mountain, Trollop hefted the sleeping Ling’er Long on one shoulder, carrying her like a pale bundle of cloud. He felt Nana Toki’s aura racing closer, and smiled like a crescent blade. “Fast reaction.”

“A woman not to be underestimated,” he murmured, a cat watching the path.

“Just not time to meet.” He snapped his fingers; air twisted like a river coil, and a warped door bloomed like a dark flower.

“I’ll be taking her.” His words fell like stones in water.

As he slipped Ling’er Long through the door, Nana Toki heard his voice echo across the trees, a bell fading.

Her steps halted, heels cutting dirt like knives. Her face soured; a discomfort rose like bile.

Dammit—she’d underestimated the Four Heavenly Kings, stars hiding behind clouds.

She yanked the System up to locate Ling’er Long again. The dots vanished like fish into deep water.

“What’s wrong with you?” Her anger flared first, hot as oil; her tone hit like hail.

“She—uh—the Four Heavenly Kings masked their position with heavy magic. And the Heavenly Dao is helping them. Normal sensors can’t sniff them out...” The System stammered like a rusty hinge. “But if you spend a hundred points to upgrade me, I can find them.”

“Still trying to fleece me?” Nana Toki’s laugh was sharp as flint. “I’ve got a hundred forty-five points. You want a hundred? Why not rob me in broad daylight? No upgrade!”

System: “...”

“Also, why should I bankroll you? Shouldn’t your master pay?” Her mood iced, then cracked like lake glass.

“B-because you chose a Phase Three plane. I’m only a Phase One System. For a temporary upgrade, I can only ask you...” The System’s shame skittered like ants.

Nana Toki: “...”

Fine. You win. After this plane’s settlement, if I don’t claw it back from your master, I won’t be Toki. Her resolve planted like a spear.

Upgrade now. If you can’t find Nesting Phoenix, I’ll enter the Independent Space and twist your master’s head off, clean as snapping bamboo.

“...”

Meanwhile, in the south of the Hedon Kingdom—Dragonbreak City rippled like a coiled dragon around stone.

“Who are you?” Jiges faced the man who appeared in his royal city, fear spreading like frost across his features.

Dragonbreak City was locked tight, iron scales over stone. Ordinary folk couldn’t slip in.

Yet this man glided in without a sound and stood before him, a shadow with unknown depth.

“Minister Jiges, please relax.” Trollop smiled and offered a gentleman’s bow, like a crane dipping to water. “I’m one of the Four Heavenly Kings under the Ghost God.”

“You… you serve the Ghost God?” Jiges trembled, a leaf in high wind. “Why would the Four Heavenly Kings come here? I’m only a civil minister. I don’t have what you want.”

“Heh. You jest, Minister.” Trollop’s voice fell soft as rain. “I bring no malice. I simply carry a greeting gift from the slumbering Ghost God. I don’t intend to disturb.”

“What do you mean?” Jiges’s eyes flicked like fish; his mind hunted exits like a fox at dusk.

“The truth is—no, the truth is you want the Grand Princess of the Marl Kingdom.” Trollop watched him, smile deepening like ink.

“You...” Jiges swallowed his question, a stone caught in his throat.

“I don’t understand,” he tried, gaze wandering, sweat beading like dew under pressure.

“No need to be so tense. You understand.” Trollop snapped his fingers; the sound cracked like dry twigs.

A dark vortex opened, spinning like a night whirlpool. From it, Ling’er Long’s form slowly stepped into the room, moon-pale and sleeping.

“This is...” Jiges stared at the familiar face, gulping like a man at a well.

“Yes. A gift from His Majesty the Ghost God to your Hedon Kingdom,” Trollop said, eyes narrowed, a smile like a knife’s gleam. “The dragon princess of the Marl Kingdom.”

“We brought her from under that exiled princess, a pearl taken from rough waves.”

“Why would you do this?” Jiges lifted his head, words cool as river stones. “You plan to fish in troubled waters when we and the barbarians go to war?”

“Exactly.” Trollop laughed openly, sound bright as steel. “So, Minister, what’s your stance?”

“...”

“Will you take it, or not?” The question hung like a lantern in fog.

“Heh. I’ll leave that to your judgment,” Trollop said lightly. “I’m only a runner for His Majesty.”

Snap. Another finger flicked; Trollop’s body twisted like smoke and faded, leaving a room emptied of footprints.

In the end, only Ling’er Long remained, asleep on a chair like a lily in shadow.

“Guards.” After a quiet stretch of thought, heavy as cloud, Jiges made his decision, voice ringing like a drum. “Assemble all forces in Dragonbreak City and the surrounding lands. In three days, we march and declare war on the Marl Kingdom.”