Lucimia flinched, as if a cold ripple ran through her own heart like a stone breaking still water.

Could that be possible, like thunder behind a thin curtain of cloud? If it is, the storm’s darker than I feared, like night swallowing the last ember.

She banked her breath like banking coals, and she reached for proof like a hand testing ice.

“Rexi,” she said, her voice straight as a blade of frost.

“W-what? Why so serious, like drums before battle—do you want me to use my ability?” Her words fluttered like a sparrow startled from a branch.

Lucimia shook her head, stepped in, and set both hands on Rexi’s shoulders like anchoring stakes. Her eyes held steady like lanterns in wind. “Rexi, I need you to tell me what your Authority Power is right now, this matters like a key at a locked gate.”

“Eh…” Rexi faltered, her fingers twining her hair like ivy around a post. “Didn’t we say I’d tell you later, like rain after the heat?”

“Rexi.” Her name landed like a pebble in a still pond.

“Mmm…” The sound hung like mist over grass.

“Tell me your Authority Power, so I can lay the board, like stones set for Go.”

Her tone allowed no detour, like a river cutting rock, and Rexi met her serious gaze with a long breath that flowed out like fog at dawn.

“Fine, but tell me first—did you think of something, like a spark in dry tinder? Is it urgent, like a bell at midnight?”

“Yes.” Lucimia nodded, like a willow acknowledging the wind. “The Royal Capital should be Ment’s home ground, like a tiger’s own ridge, but there’s none of Ment’s mist here, like a lake without morning haze—don’t you find that strange?”

“You’re saying Ment ran, like a fox into the thicket?” Rexi blinked, her surprise quick as a firefly.

“No. He can’t get away, like a fish in a shrinking pond, and he won’t choose that road—he’ll face me head-on, like antlers locked in the clearing.” Lucimia shook her head, calm as falling snow.

“Why?” Rexi asked, curiosity bright as dew on a blade.

“You remember I killed you, and then brought you back,” Lucimia said, her patience level as a lake.

“Yeah, that was… the ability you swallowed, right? It felt like time Reversion, like the river running backward.”

“Since you said it, that saves breath like wind at our backs. Yes, that ability is Reversion,” she said, the word ringing like a bell.

She paused, then let the thread return to Ment, like a loom finding its pattern.

“Now you see. I have Reversion, and Ment knows I have it, like a wolf smelling steel. Without the Purification Deity’s help, he knows he can’t run, like a shadow outracing the sun. If he runs, I can revert, even lay the killing trap in advance, like nets set before the tide—he’d be passive, and he’s not that foolish, like a hawk missing a rabbit in open snow. So even with the option to flee, he won’t flee; he’ll fight me head-on, like a drum answered by a drum.”

Rexi’s eyes lit, clarity breaking like sunrise. “Oh—so that’s it. He really can’t run. But if his mist isn’t here, like a stage without its fog, how else is he going to fight you?”

“That’s what I need to verify, like tasting salt in the wind,” Lucimia said, and she let the words fall silent like snow.

She turned back. “Rexi, tell me your Authority Power,” she said, the request tight as a bowstring.

“Alright, alright.” Rexi spread her hands like a small surrendering wave, then cleared her throat and glanced around like a wary deer. She leaned to Lucimia’s ear and whispered two soft notes, like ink on rice paper: “Memory.”

“Memory?” Lucimia echoed, the syllables opening like a gate in her mind. Realization dawned like light on water.

No wonder Rexi could block memory resets, like a dam stopping flood; I’ve been showing off before a master’s gate, like swinging an axe at the carpenter’s door.

No wonder, when the pursuers chased us, she snapped her fingers and the horses crashed, like legs forgetting the earth—she made them forget how to run.

And when we entered the Royal Capital, she tweaked the sentries’ memories, like rearranging tiles, so they took us for officers without a blink.

Memory Power—that’s Rexi’s Authority, like a seal pressed in wax.

Then her amnesia… was it her own doing, like a blade turned inward? Did she cut her own thread of memory, and why would she shear it, like a weaver pausing mid-pattern?

And if she can edit others’ memories, why let the guards hunt her at all, like leaving the gate open for wolves? Why not end it from the start, like snuffing a candle at dusk?

She really is a strange girl, like a riddle folded in silk.

Lucimia’s eyes traveled up and down her without disguise, like sunlight sliding over a statue, and Rexi shivered all over like a cat doused with rain.

“W-what are you doing! You perv!” Rexi covered her chest, her hands clamped like shutters.

“…” Lucimia swallowed the retort, silence smooth as ice.

She drew her gaze back and asked, “Your Memory Power can delete, modify, read—those kinds of memory, like pruning, grafting, and reading rings in a tree, right? And since thought is a kind of memory, can you plant the next step in someone’s head? Like, a man is eating, and you add a memory: after eating, go take a walk—like setting a footpath in fresh snow.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rexi answered honestly, her nod quick as a finch.

“Good.” Lucimia nodded too, thought deepening like ink in water.

“One more thing—are there limits? Line of sight or something, like a lantern’s reach?”

“Limits… so far, I haven’t found any, like a sky without edges. I can edit memories at extreme range, like whispering across valleys. Side effects too—no sense of pollution, like a stream running clear; hard to say. And I don’t need to snap my fingers; thinking is enough, like wind moving reeds—I just like the snap.”

“I see,” Lucimia said, the words clicking like stones. “What about your Evil Entity?”

“None,” Rexi said, shaking her head like a rattle.

“None?” The word fell like a pebble.

“Yeah. I haven’t seen it at all, like a moon behind clouds. Maybe I haven’t found the method, or maybe I forgot, like a book misplaced on a shelf,” Rexi said, scratching her head like a puzzled squirrel.

Lucimia sighed, the feeling sharp as vinegar—comparing people will drive you mad, like measuring your sprout against a bamboo.

My power has problems like knots in rope, while hers looks perfect like jade without a crack.

“Alright,” Lucimia said, her nod firm as a stamp. “That makes this easy, like a door already unlatched.”

“What do you want me to do?” Rexi’s pretty face settled into focus, like a blade catching light.

“I want you to add to Ment’s memory,” Lucimia said, the plan forming like frost patterns.

“Add?” That caught Rexi off guard, like a gust from the wrong quarter—she’d thought Lucimia wanted a rewrite. “What do you want me to add?”

Lucimia blinked, her gaze lifting to the palace that rose like a mountain of glass. The palace tower bristled with glass doors like a forest of mirrors. She pointed at the central floor-to-ceiling window, tall as a waterfall of light.

“I want you to plant this in Ment’s memory: The weather’s nice today—go stand by the window and take a look, like an emperor surveying fields. The whole palace is my palace, the whole empire is my empire, like rivers feeding one sea. I will seize Nirael, and no one can stop me—not even Lucimia,” she said, each phrase set like stones across a stream.

“Weather? Window? Hm… alright, no problem,” Rexi said, nodding like a reed in a breeze; she didn’t know why, but she trusted this quick-witted girl like a sailor trusts a sure star.

“Wait,” Lucimia said, the word catching like a hook.

“What is it?” Rexi asked, curiosity tilting like a sparrow’s head.

“Don’t do it yet,” Lucimia said, her hand raised like a gate-bar.

“Huh? Why?” Rexi paused with fingers poised, the snap held like lightning in a cloud.

“Because I need a fixed time,” Lucimia said, her eyes narrowing like a hunter sighting tracks.

She caught Rexi’s wrist, her grip cool as spring water, and white light flooded their vision like snow at noon.

“Reversion,” Lucimia whispered, the syllables falling like a key in a lock.

Then both of them vanished, like sparks winking out in wind.

When Rexi opened her eyes again, she was sprinting north of Erwei City, her feet drumming like hooves on packed earth.

“Eh? How are we back?” The question spilled like a tipped cup.

A shadow dropped from the sky like a hawk, and arms hooked under her armpits, catching her like a net.

Rexi glanced back and saw Lucimia’s familiar face, steady as a moon over water.

“Eh—what’s happening?” Her voice skipped like stones across a pond.

“Don’t talk. Come with me,” Lucimia said, words concise as knots.

She cast invisibility like a cloak of fog, then wove Teleportation Magic like a door in empty air. In an instant, they vanished again like two swallows, and this time they appeared before the palace of the Royal Capital Luo, its walls gleaming like sunrise on ice.