A trace of Spirit Energy lingered in the air like smoke after rain—thin, yet Nana Shi could feel where it pointed. South side?

Surprise flickered like a moth behind her eyes, then cooled. She steadied her mood, drew an Amber Talisman from her pocket, and set it by her desk like a small sun.

Chronos City wasn’t quiet, just as that clown said; maybe tied to last night’s punishments. She didn’t care.

This was Chronos City, her hunting ground; no one walked in and out like wind through reeds.

South of the city, Chronos City Prison. Two wardens idled in the guard room, night thick as soot. The place sat hushed and heavy, a lid on a boiling pot.

The warden-chief had warned them: these cells held demons from a past age; unless you must, don’t speak, don’t meet eyes.

Usually the War Ministry’s soldiers watched nights like hawks. Maybe because Nana Shi had slaughtered hard last night, half the city’s posts needed warm bodies.

So day-shift nobodies got dragged to cover nights, a first taste for all of them.

“Hey, I heard hundreds of ministers dropped dead last night, quiet as candles. His Majesty hasn’t asked. True or noise?” One warden yawned and poked his mate, who was nodding off like a dozing ox.

“Quit the gossip. You just started and already flap your tongue. Didn’t you see how many got marched in this morning? Don’t ask dumb.” He slumped against his chair, head foggy, and snapped, “You’re just bored.”

“Yeah, bored to death. Look at us—midnight, no sleep, stuck in this ghost pit. Who can stand it?” The scolded warden yawned and grumbled, “Let’s go sleep. His Majesty posted plenty outside. We sweet-talk them, slide a benefit, they’ll let it pass.”

“You trying to die?” The drowsy one jolted awake like struck by a bell. “You dare slack on His Majesty’s orders? You tired of life?”

“You think the War Ministry is still Moragus’s old lot? Hand a bribe and they’d wink? Now it’s under His Majesty’s own hand. Don’t even think of bribing. Drop dead at their feet and they won’t blink.”

He smacked his partner’s head, hating iron not turning steel. “You’re sleep-stupid.”

“Hiss—so, that means the War Ministry in Chronos City belongs to His Majesty alone?” The would-be truant came to, cold snaking up his spine. He really was sleep-stupid.

“So stop dreaming of shortcuts. Follow His Majesty, and days will run straight.” Their warden perks weren’t worse than the soldiers’.

The work’s heavy. The rest’s fine.

“You’re... you’re right. Let’s just do our shift.” The chatterbox shrank his neck like a turtle in rain.

The guard room fell back into stillness, dust settling in pale lamplight.

The calm didn’t last. Barely thirty minutes ticked by, then violent blasts tore from deep inside the prison.

Both wardens shot up, shivering; the built-in alarms began to keen.

A long, knife-thin siren sliced through the whole prison, braided with inmates’ excited curses. The corridors, cramped and black, boiled like a kicked nest.

They stared at the monitors, chaos flickering like storm lightning, and panic rose like floodwater.

“S-someone’s escaping?!” What now?

“Don’t freeze—get outside and warn the soldiers!” The ones inside weren’t lambs; if the main gate opened and they flooded the streets, Chronos City would drown.

“R-right, the War Ministry—go warn them.” The armed warden steadied himself, grabbed keys, and lunged for the rear door.

Two steps in, a blinding black flash scythed the air. The warden by the monitors watched his partner’s head drop clean, blood fountaining from the neck like a broken spring.

Nana Shi heard the south prison’s sirens and moved like wind off a cliff, sending a royal command to the patrols to rush support.

A faint ripple of Spirit Energy hung in the air like frost on glass. She tested it and felt the same signature as the one who’d struck in her room.

That idiot’s aiming at the south prison?

Irritation pricked first; then the questions ran cold. Coincidence, or crafted? The ministers had reported it only this morning—how did it break this fast?

Thoughts hadn’t settled when she reached the prison’s edge. She ordered the nearby soldiers to close in, the perimeter tightening like a noose.

These cells held the rogues she’d seized back when she was Chronos City’s general. She didn’t fear their bite now, but there were many; if even a few slipped, the civilians would panic like scattered birds.

That would sour the current balance fast.

This smelled like a planned storm.

“Your Majesty, all gaps from the blasts are sealed. The ones sticking their heads out were netted and brought back. But two wardens in the guard room died.”

“Hm? No inmates ran, and only two wardens died?” Nana’s gaze narrowed, a blade glint. She eyed the two corpses the soldiers carried. One was cleanly beheaded. She knelt, studying the wound—neck smooth, no ragged tear—no ordinary blade.

A wire-like killing tool? With experience in such arts, Nana’s thoughts grew heavy.

The other corpse had no marks outside; inside, the organs were pulp. That reeked of deliberate Spirit Energy.

Two intruders?

And they weren’t here to break anyone out.

They came to make a point?

Her face chilled, a storm gathering. On her ground, they killed her people to posture?

Bold.

“Take both bodies, bury them well, and send comfort to their families.”

She never shorted her own, even if they hadn’t bled for her with full hearts.

“You, hold the outer ring. No reckless moves.”

She’d meet these madmen herself, see what teeth they had.

Boom—another blast hammered the prison’s gut. Inmates snapped awake, ready to curse the bastard lighting firecrackers at midnight.

But the strange thing: every cell door clicked open at once, iron mouths suddenly smiling wide. A high wall at the far end blew open into a gaping hole, and Chronos City’s moon poured in like tilted silver, laying cold light over stained, scabbed floors.

“The... the doors are open!”

Someone shouted, and the dazed inmates bolted like deer, shoving for the exit.

The narrow corridor jammed with striped bodies, elbows and curses crashing like waves.

“Shit! Tonight’s dumb luck—we don’t get breakouts like this!”

“Hahaha! I’m free at last!”

“Move, fucker—let your father through!”

“Motherf— you looking to die?!”

Bang—air itself thrummed. Before they reached the breach, a pitch-black mass dropped from the sky and slammed down, blocking the hole with a thunderclap.

A crushing Spirit pressure burst from the dust with tidal killing intent, whipping up a hard wind that scoured the prison.

“Those who step back may live.”

The voice was cool as moonlight, drifting through the corridor gone suddenly silent. Heads snapped up. In the cratered floor at the breach, a giant battle-axe stood buried, its blade glossy black, pooling pale moonlight and shedding a chill that pinched the eyes.

To its right stood a woman in a black dress, face shadowed, beauty edged like steel.

“N-Nana Shi...”

Old memories broke from the deep like drowned ghosts. In their chests, fear took root, a cold sprout winding tight.

“W-what do we do?”

Nearly a hundred inmates, terrors of the continent, froze under one woman’s presence, hands unwilling to move.

Terrifying.

“We’ve got numbers! She’s only one. Even if she’s strong, some of us can break out!”

“Yeah! Wealth ahead, life or death by fate! Move together—maybe not all, but some will escape!”

A few in front bared their wills first. Spirit Energy rose from their bodies like heat haze, the air whining around them. Behind, many stomped forward, hearts stirred to violence.

Nearly a hundred currents of Spirit Energy braided into one, its killing wave harsh enough to sting skin.

At the breach, Nana Shi faced the surge of bodies, steady as a mountain. Her eyes stayed calm, but in their ink, a blood-red gleam burned.

“Good. From this moment on, you’re all re-sentenced to death.”