The result.

Naturally, Nana Toki steamrolled the two like a mountain wind flattening tall grass.

Cheston and Elise were the best fighters among the Four Heavenly Kings, yet under Nana’s smoldering fury, they were beaten like drums in a storm.

Her only regret was how, to beat him, the two burned all their mana and chose mutual destruction like moths flinging themselves at a torch.

Nana had no choice; she cut them down cleanly, like snapping ice off a frozen branch.

She hadn’t meant to kill them; Jade Ring Long’s change after the Ghostspike plague was still a knot in smoke, likely one thread in Trollop’s loom.

Better cautious than sorry; she held her breath like a hunter in fog.

And the doubts kept sprouting like weeds; Trollop’s talk of that test subject’s inner world pricked her curiosity like frost on skin.

This plane felt wrong, like a compass spinning under northern lights.

Everything drifted off course, like boats tugged by a hidden tide.

The System and that man in black, snug in their sealed space, were hiding things like stones under still water; this time she would pry them up.

She stowed the Colossal Axe into her hidden space, like sliding a crescent moon behind cloud, then glanced at Jade Ring Long.

Ever since she’d moved Lorin, Jade Ring Long stood there, eyes glazed, like a puppet with its strings cut.

“...”

Could Trollop have forced a merge with the Demon Hand?

It’s not the same as the Ghostspike plague; a forced merge lets the Demon God’s power steer the flesh, turning a person into a blind blade.

Jade Ring Long’s symptoms matched that grim script like ink to stencil.

Also—

Nana remembered how, in Marl Kingdom, someone had researched forced Demon Hand fusion like alchemists boiling storms in jars.

Was Trollop, like her, a villainous ship‑breaker who loved tearing couples apart?

“...”

Fine. Leave the pondering; bring her back first, like pocketing a wild ember.

Nana pulled a yellow Talisman from her pocket and pressed it to Jade Ring Long’s brow like a leaf sealing wind, then warped them to Marl’s border forest.

Dusk had thickened like spilled ink; the air smelled of pine and old rain.

She sighed, bearing weight this identity wasn’t meant to carry, like a crane under borrowed saddles.

System: “...”

She tore a yellow Talisman off a nearby tree like peeling bark, then combed the forest like a cat hunting, soon finding Lorin and the others by the lake’s silver edge.

The three still brooded, faces cold as clay; she’d moved them hard, and they stared like strangers meeting a shadow at the door.

Nana Toki: “...”

So they missed the boss XP; did they have to sulk like winter geese?

She pasted on a thick‑skinned smile like lacquer, then explained to Ling’er Long the thread of events.

“You’re saying the Four Heavenly Kings forced a Demon Hand merge on Jade Ring Long?” Lorin’s wounds were mending like thaw; shock rippled across his face. “How dare they?”

“When a kingdom’s in chaos, people do human trials like gamblers tossing dice,” Nana shot him a look. “Maybe they wanted to watch you and Jade Ring Long tear each other apart. Cruel hobby.”

Lorin: “...”

Things had veered beyond Nana’s script; even if the female lead of this plane was fraying at the edges, she hadn’t seen the girl do anything vile. The downfall tasted bitter, like tea brewed too long.

Did Heaven think a broken‑character protagonist deserved the axe?

System: “...” Don’t overthink. The Heavenly Dao’s halo only keeps the chosen pair from dying easily; what ending they get lies outside that sky’s jurisdiction.

“So Heaven guards their birth, not their ending?”

System: “...” Pretty much.

As long as their death’s normal, no interference, you can play as wild as you want.

That was good news; it felt like sunlight through bamboo.

After the hunt for the Four Heavenly Kings, Nana’s team rested on the spot for a day, like soldiers sleeping in dew, then at dawn returned to Marl’s capital to crack the circles laid there.

She figured no one, not even the Kings, could empty a city in days; illusions or dungeon arrays must be veiling people like mist hides mountains.

Earlier in the palace, they’d been shunted to Demon God City by a circle; same trick, different paint. Break every circle, and the missing court and folk would show like fish surfacing.

So Nana worked alone, unwinding arrays in Marl’s capital for nearly five hours, like picking knots from a fisherman’s net.

The other three were magic idiots, pigs on a chessboard; as the only melee mage with a decent grasp, she shouldered it like a porter under rain.

From household convenience spells to anchor‑teleport wards, she stripped every array in the palace bare, bones and runes gleaming like ribs under lantern light.

She read circles until her eyes felt like inkstones; nausea rolled like tide.

Marl’s people were sick with convenience, craving magic yet refusing to learn; they packed the palace with artificial circles like wallpaper. Nana couldn’t tell which ones the Kings set, so she broke them all like smashing gourds.

It took the whole morning; when she cracked the last array and the capital shuddered like an old beast waking, her heart stayed level as still water—she even wanted to laugh.

What a trashy plot. Was the author cursed in a past life to hit pity on every gacha and get zero drops from dungeons?

Hitting pity on a final chest is one thing; but thousands of arrays all gating on the last? That smelled like a warped plane, like milk gone sour.

Anyway, the circles fell; the court and the people bound within were freed like birds shot from nets.

The result was acceptable, like bread warm enough to eat.

Aside from Kurus, who’d had a hiccup while fetching reinforcements from Hedon Kingdom, the ripple was small.

His timing was sharp as a knife. Nana had just freed Marl’s court; Kurus arrived with Hedon’s troops, armor gleaming like river stones. Freshly freed Marl folk saw the formation and thought their trusted minister had teamed with Hedon for a coup; hearts clenched like fists.

Ling’er Long moved fast, words poured like tea; with bows and calm, she steadied the wavering king like hands resting on a shaking branch.

Nana, however, didn’t plan to let the matter drift like leaves.

“You’re the king of Marl Kingdom?”

She dusted herself off and walked over, curiosity flickering like candlelight.

“The old man is,” the king replied, teacup steaming like a small cloud. “You’re Hedon’s princess, aren’t you...”

“Yep. I’d like to discuss something, if you’re free.”

“Is it about relations between our nations?” He leaned forward, hope bright as dawn. “If it’s friendship with your kingdom, I’ll gladly agree.”

“Nope. Friendship’s optional. Mainly, I want to marry your daughter.”

“?”

Ling’er Long: “...”

In short, the marriage of Marl’s grand princess to Hedon’s princess spread like fire in dry grass, long before the king could nod.

Plenty had heard Nana’s words on the spot; even if the two courts tried to cork the bottle, wine would leak.

Shock rolled through both kingdoms like thunder; crowds munched gossip like roasted chestnuts.

Wow—royal girls’ circle sure is wild.

Many Hedon folk dropped their jaws at their princess’s stunt, like carp seeing sky.

Same‑sex marriage—first case in the two kingdoms’ long, dusty ledgers.

Still, shock was shock, confusion was confusion; blessings were due like rain on fields. With the deeds of slaying the Four Heavenly Kings, stopping the Demon God’s return, and calming Marl’s civil war, no one dared point fingers.

At most, whispers buzzed like bees, then, heavy with respect, someone would breathe, “Badass.”

Engagement, wedding—everything flowed smooth as a lake.

After attending Nana Toki and Ling’er Long’s wedding, Lorin left Hedon Kingdom, guilt gnawing like cold, blaming his weakness for Jade Ring Long’s demonization.

In the years after, Lorin wandered like wind, searching the world for a way to undo Demon Godization.

Nana couldn’t sit still either; married, yes, but in Mida Village they lived like snow untouched, nights ending with held hands and soft breathing.

Pure as spring water; that was their rhythm.

It wasn’t that Nana wouldn’t move first.

It’s just—

Yes.

She knew Nesting Phoenix lived in that body’s core, yet her hands hesitated like birds at a stranger’s palm.

Different face, same soul; guilt pricked her, like the sting of a stolen glance. It felt weirdly like cheating, a quiet NTR sitting in daylight.

This life ran long for Nana; she stayed with Ling’er Long until the end, passing like autumn leaves, a natural rest.

...

Villainess Princess Arc (End)