“Shelika, Third Princess of the Dark Blood Clan…” The Thunderlight Knight, Liya, rolled the name on her tongue, voice trembling like wind over broken glass. “You damned monster—why are you in Doran’s First City?!”

“Celestial Race knight of the White Spirit Empire, Celestial knight of the Jade Family… Thunderlight’s Liya.” Her fervor met only a crescent-moon smile. “You fled the battlefield then. Stronger now, and you dare face me?”

Sixty years ago, they’d crossed blades on a wind-scoured Republic front—

Liya led dozens of imperial elites; the other brought barely a dozen blood thralls.

The odds looked lopsided, yet the Thunderlight troop was annihilated like torches drowned by a tide.

It was a memory that still salted Liya’s wounds.

She couldn’t forget the eerie sorcery toying with her comrades, or those thralls gnawing them like wolves in a snowstorm.

With hatred etched to the bone, Liya burned hot now. Rage stormed her mind and swept her calm away.

“I’m not the same. I have the Thunderclap Sword, Zofikar!”

“A holy relic, the Thunderclap Sword Zofikar. Yes, that could contend with me.” The woman’s eyes narrowed like shutters in rain.

But when Liya drew the blade and raised it two-handed, the power didn’t come.

“Why?!” The blade held no sunburst, only a dull glow. Zofikar’s silence gutted her like a cold tide.

Shelika of the Dark Blood Clan laughed, playful and cruel. “Your White Spirit Empire has dozens of relics. Their power all comes from your Other-God’s shelter. This space is outside that grace—”

“After all, this is the Night’s temple—”

“No formal temple fittings, no sacred pillar of sacrifice to define a temple, no shrine to the Earth Mother—”

“But I am the Consecrant—”

“Where I stand becomes holy ground where the Earth Mother is about to descend—”

“And holy ground contains all that defines a temple. Understand now, little kitten?”

The third princess laid bare the power she held as a Consecrant, without veil or mercy.

Understanding hit Liya like winter water. Helplessness flooded in.

She could neither avenge an enemy before her nor uphold the creed in her chest.

For an imperial knight, nothing cuts deeper.

Their words meant something only to them, but the King’s Royal Guard already seethed.

They weren’t the strongest under the King, but they weren’t so weak they’d let a Night Disciple stroll unchecked.

“Damn monster, face your death!” Eyes flashed their plan. One knight roared and charged, a spear of stormlight.

“Don’t you dare defile Doran!” His blade rang on a dark barrier. Two more swept in from the flanks to cut the blind spot.

“Doran’s fate won’t be ruled by foreign blood!” The strongest of them ignited his Battle Aura. Frost sheathed his sword, and he thrust for the Blood Clan woman’s head.

“Hmph—humans, always foolish and proud.” Their strikes came like waves on black rock, and all broke. One snap of Shelika’s fingers, and hot blood turned to ice.

A gust of shadow scythed the hall. The knights buckled and fell like wheat in night wind.

Shelika’s gaze, vulture-sharp, raked over Liya.

She licked crimson lips, savoring Liya’s held breath, then smiled like a knife. “No strike? Won’t you swing that holy Zofikar at me? Even without amplifying your aura, a relic’s edge might nick me. Mmm~”

“You monster!” Rage flared. Liya cursed and cut forward, lightning in her boots.

At the instant her point would pierce—

Clang!

A blur nearly as fast as Liya slid in, sword up, and caught the blow like steel on thunder.

“You are—?!” Liya stared. She didn’t know the woman, but the strength matched her storm for storm. Then she saw the emptiness in those eyes and lost all interest.

“Rose Knight. Reina…” The woman spoke flatly, eyes hollow, holding the bind like a clockwork doll.

At the sight, Liya’s heart cracked. She snapped a return cut to disengage, then cried out, “Shelika, how many souls will you stain?! Must you make them this broken to be satisfied?!”

“This isn’t stain. This is rebirth.” Shelika drifted to the Rose Knight and cupped her face like a relic on an altar. “Under the Earth Mother’s blessing, their soul-pain vanishes. They gain greater strength.”

Lance watched, a storm behind still eyes. He stepped between their words and asked, voice low, “So she fell because she craved power?”

“Oh? I almost forgot she’s your childhood friend. Mm-hehe~”

“But that’s not it—”

“She was reckless. She hunted me without knowing the sky’s height. She slipped into the Golden Flower Family. She pried at their nameless arcane trinkets. She thought that would lead her to me—”

“She thought if she did all that, she could escape the shackles called [Fate]. Too naive—”

“It was all bait. A snare to drag her deeper. Poor little kitten~” She stroked Reina’s cheek again with long fingers, and the woman didn’t even blink.

As she said—Reina was a living puppet.

Lance kept looking at Reina.

Once, twice, a third time—then his gaze slid away like a blade sheathed.

“How dull,” Shelika sighed. “I thought you’d beg. Beg me to turn her back.”

“You talk too much. And you can’t, can you?”

The drift of her eyes sharpened. Surprise, doubt, and anger flashed like lightning behind shutters.

“I meant to save you for last. Seems you don’t value your final moments.” Her finger flicked a command.

Reina vanished and appeared before Lance. Her cut came straight and unstoppable, like a falling star.

Thud.

Lance flew. The impact near shattered him, drove him into the wall like wet clay, then dumped him hard on stone.

“Lance! No—” Liya’s chest seized. She wanted to run to him, to pull him up, but wolves ahead and tigers behind held her fast. She could only glare at Shelika and drown in helpless rage.

“Hh… hh…” Lance spat pink foam, dragged breath like gravel, and clawed his way up. Unyielding, he bared his teeth. “That all you got?”

“Lance Morrison…” Shelika breathed his name, voice like cold iron, unreadable.

A heartbeat later, she sent the puppet again.

Lance flew again. The shock hit harder; the fall broke uglier. He could barely lift his hand. One more strike and he couldn’t even raise the Sirius Sword to guard.

Before it fell, the air changed.

“Don’t you dare harm my apprentice!!” Like the earth’s roar, like a hurricane’s scream, a knight in full heavy plate tore the dome asunder and dropped from the sky.

He landed before Lance like a mountain, and his presence pressed like noon sun. The foe hesitated, stilled by that weight.

After a taut few breaths, Shelika’s face shifted in disgust.

“So it’s you… the Knight of the Blazing Sun, Layne…”