They flew high, facing the palace’s floor-to-ceiling window, like two swallows skimming the moon.

At that moment Lucimia spoke, her voice a cool blade in mist. “Activate your ability.”

“Uh… fine.” Rexi shut her eyes like shutters at dusk, tugged her will, then snapped her fingers, crisp as ice.

“Done.” She opened her eyes again, lamps relit in twilight.

“Mm.” Lucimia nodded, a ripple across still water. “Wait. Let’s see if he shows.”

Time trickled, grain by grain, like sand in an hourglass. They waited from night into day. No Ment at that window.

Impatience pricked Rexi like nettles. “My ability should’ve worked. Why isn’t he here? Did he bolt and won’t be back soon?”

“No. He won’t run,” Lucimia said, tone set like stone. “Stop waiting. He won’t appear.”

“Huh?” Doubt rose in Rexi like fog. “Why? What do you mean he won’t appear?”

Lucimia didn’t answer. She took Rexi to a hidden forest outside the city, shadows layered like ink.

They landed, soft as leaves. Rexi started, “Lucimia—”

“Shh,” Lucimia breathed, wind through reeds. Rexi sealed her lips like a folded fan.

Lucimia sat on the ground, a rock at streamside, shut her eyes, and linked to the city’s Deceiver.

A familiar chaos bloomed, storm-clouds inside the mind. The golden-haired Deceiver knelt on one knee, offering submission to her throne.

“I ask you. Ment’s city slaughter—how many days ago?” Lucimia’s words fell like beads.

“Ten days ago,” the Deceiver answered, clean as a cut.

“Beyond Ment’s massacre, any fighting after?” Her voice flowed like a current.

“None,” he said, the word flat as slate.

“Got it.” Lucimia brushed away the link like ash, and the world returned, fresh as rain.

The Deceiver’s message steadied her guess, a pillar rising in fog.

Ten days ago was when she and Desty ended things in the valley, a chapter closed like a book snapped shut.

Right after failing, Ment chose his second plan, quick as a hawk’s dive.

She recalled a heavy snowfall after, blanketing all like cotton; she herself was buried like a silenced bell.

So the snow over Royal Capital Luo fell then as well? The thought drifted like snowflakes.

Snow…

Lucimia scooped a handful, soft as wool, then tossed it away like a white moth.

A small wet pool bloomed on her palm as it melted, water waking like spring.

Snow melts into water. The truth flowed like a stream.

Lucimia sighed, slow as winter wind. She braced for the worst, armor set like iron.

“Rexi.” She called the name again, solemn as a temple bell.

Rexi read trouble in her face like storm-signs. “I’m here. What do you need me to do?”

“Use your ability on—” Lucimia paused, a breath held like frost. “On the Purification Deity.”

“Okay, okay—wait, the Purification Deity?” Rexi stared, eyes wide like moons. “Why her? And will it even affect her?”

“It will,” Lucimia said, reasoning clear as water. “She’s sealed. She lacks a constant energy feed to keep her summoning Magic Array open.”

“She can’t block your ability. She doesn’t know you exist. Your first strike will catch her off guard like lightning.”

“I’ll also grant you a Devouring effect, a shadow-cloak on your blow.”

“Uh… fine. What exactly do you want me to do to her?” Rexi yielded like grass under wind.

“I want you to modify the memory of Purification Deity Vosh,” Lucimia stated, each word set like stepping stones.

“Have Water tell her this: Lucimia, using a newly gained ability, will bring a rat horde to Royal Capital Luo in two hours.”

“This time I’ll lay out the board early, lines drawn like nets. I’m starting the second beast-in-a-cage duel.”

“Remember?”

“Okay.” Rexi shut her eyes like gates, moved her will like silk threads, and snapped her fingers, crisp as frost.

“Done.” She clapped lightly, sound bright as pebbles.

Lucimia rose to her feet, steady as a pine.

“What now? Going to the Royal Capital?” Rexi asked, curiosity buzzing like bees.

“No. I’m not going.” Her refusal fell simple as a drop.

“Eh? Then what are you doing? I still don’t get it…” Her confusion pooled like mist.

Lucimia conjured a Fuzzy Orb, round as a dandelion. It blinked wide, innocent eyes, blank-cute like a baby owl.

“You’ll know soon, if she really comes here,” Lucimia said, calm as moonlight.

She tossed the Fuzzy Orb onto the ground, a soft thud like fruit falling.

Royal Capital Luo.

A small figure walked alone down the avenue, slight as a willow. It was Lucimia.

She looked at snow heaped along the streets like white dunes, then at roof eaves, then at the ring of walls around the royal castle.

“Indeed, a perfectly set cage for a cornered beast.” Lucimia smiled, words released into empty air like incense. “Vosh, I know you’re there. I’m right here.”

As her last word fell, the capital’s snow began to melt at speed, racing like a river in thaw.

All that snow became sheets of water, pooling like mirrored lakes. Then the waters gathered, alive like serpents.

They massed into the shape of a mature woman, a body woven from waves, then dropped like a curtain.

Vosh stood before Lucimia, presence cold as deep spring.

“Just as I thought,” Lucimia said, face steady as jade.

Vosh didn’t speak first. She scanned the place, gaze sweeping like a falcon. No rat horde. No Nirael.

“Ment was killed by you, wasn’t he?” Lucimia’s words cut like a blade.

Vosh blinked, a brief hitch like a skipped beat. She saw Lucimia’s confident, poised face, and felt her plan laid bare like tracks in fresh snow.

“I guess when Ment borrowed your power in the valley, you didn’t only do valley work,” Lucimia said, calm as rain.

“You did something else, aimed at Ment. I don’t know the exact trick.”

“I think you approached him, offered a plan. You told him to slaughter a city and control Nirael, to stop Nirael from absorbing energy.”

“Ment carried it out.”

“After he finished, you told him you could melt snow into water, turn snow into a prison, and build a new beast-in-a-cage to counter me.”

“He thought it feasible and agreed.”

“By then, Ment had little energy left, drained like a dying lamp, and you had spent him further.”

“Using snow and water, you killed Ment in secret, then took his energy, breaking a sliver of your seal.”

“Your next steps were simple,” she continued, words measured like drumbeats. “You hid the truth.”

“You tricked me into thinking Ment would face me head-on. When I asked witnesses, they’d say Ment did it.”

“Then, when I brought a rat horde to the Royal Capital, you would spring the cage again and strike both me and Nirael.”

“You’d drink our energy and push your seal further. Am I right?”

Lucimia laid out her guess, a map spread like a river chart.

Vosh listened, then smiled wickedly, a crescent like a knife.

“Heh… a few days, and you’ve grown,” she purred, voice coiling like smoke. “Already seeing through the board early?”

“Yes. Ment was killed by me,” Vosh said, unruffled, calm as still water.

“I had no choice. I was furious,” she went on, heat under ice. “We could’ve killed you in the valley, but his blunder ruined it.”

“If not him, who should die? Also, I’ve found a big flaw in my past plans,” Vosh said, eyes narrowing like slits.