But the Ninety Nine Maiden wasn’t joking; she fixed on Ling’s eyes like moonlight cutting through mist, as if staring straight into her soul.

“You... really plan to go down?” Her voice skimmed the cliff-edge like a cold wind.

Unease surged like winter tide; then Ling shivered, feeling her true intent laid bare like dusk stripping leaves, and it made her uneasy.

“Well... we’re aiming for a peaceful alliance,” she said, voice steady like a lantern in rain. “If the little Black Dragon won’t accept it, it’s fine while he’s small. But once he grows into a great dragon, he’s a buried thunderstone.”

She forced herself to reply, offering a reason as neat as a folded fan; the Ninety Nine Maiden stared like a still pond, then let the matter lie.

As for Alicia, even if she’d planned to refuse, she loosened the string like a kite in mild wind, since Ling was willing.

“Alright, alright—if we all agree, I’ll head down...” Her words fell like steps into fog.

She had half a foot out when Alicia’s voice snapped like ice, halting her.

“Wait! Ling, go back to the Mystic Realm and find Flan; ask her for magic to destroy the Undead.” The request fluttered like swallows returning home.

“Eh? But we’re far from the Mystic Realm...” The distance stretched like mountains and sea.

“Can’t you call Flan and have her open a portal for you?” Her words drew a silver thread across the night.

“Oh... got it,” Ling said, her tone small as a candle flame.

It sounded like smoke on water, a neat way to push Ling aside; what it meant exactly, only Alicia knew.

Ling didn’t ask; her mind wove a reason like silk in the dark.

—Although Alicia agreed, she wouldn’t be as rash; caution keeps a boat sailing for ages, like a slow river bearing wood.

Besides, with Flan’s mind brimming like a moonlit library, Alicia felt sure Ling could bring back a spell or two.

Ling was sent off, and the air stilled like a lake; only the Ninety Nine Maiden and Alicia remained.

As if oblivious to the awkward chill, the Ninety Nine Maiden sat on the ground, while Alicia’s face darkened like a brewing storm.

“Why do this?” Her words fell like cold rain.

The syllables slipped from Alicia’s lips like pebbles into water; the Maiden’s idly swaying body went still, boredom snapping like a reed.

“What do you mean?” The question drifted thin as mist.

“You know this,” Alicia said, her tone a blade under silk. “We allied with you. We won’t force you, and we don’t owe you. Why should we clean up your Black Dragon’s mess?”

The Dragon King lifted his head; the casual air vanished, replaced by a stern look like carved stone.

“What do you mean?” His voice rumbled like distant thunder.

Alicia didn’t answer; she lowered her head and counted on her fingers like tallying stars in a black sky.

“Before, your Dragonfolk invaded the Empire,” she said, each word a flint spark. “You wrecked over half the buildings, and you killed nearly two-thirds of the soldiers.”

“That blood-debt still scars the ledger like a knife-mark,” she went on, voice low as night water. “I kept quiet because Ling stood beside me and planned to let it lie.”

“But now you’re scheming against us again—are all your Dragonfolk like this?” Her challenge cracked like lightning.

The Dragon King’s eyes narrowed; slit pupils gleamed with danger like blades in the dark.

“Child, some things aren’t a joke,” he said, voice iron under snow. “I’ve stayed here as Dragon King for years like moss on stone; when did I invade humans?”

“When the gods fell, I restrained the dragons who sought to vent their rage,” he continued, restraint coiled like iron chains. “I’ve watched them to this day—how would they slip out to wage war?”

“Tsk.” Alicia’s breath cut sharp as a paper knife. “If you won’t own the past, fine; let’s speak of now—why ask us to wash your Dragonfolk’s shame like blood from silk?”

“What do you think you know?!” His snarl gusted like a hot wind from a kiln.

“What do I know? I know nothing; I only know what I know,” she said, calm as a moon on a river. “A young Black Dragon—why would countless adult dragons tolerate him?”

“Why would you say you ‘owe him something’?” Her words tapped like rain on bamboo.

“Most of all, why would that young dragon even know about the Undead?” The question rose like a carp breaking the surface. “Do a rough deduction, and the result floats up.”

Alicia paused, reading the Dragon King’s tense face like storm signs across the horizon, then smiled as if a lock clicked.

“Want to hear my deduction?” Her voice brushed soft as a cat’s paw.

“No...” The word thinned like a reed in wind.

“You’ll hear it anyway,” she said, the sentence unfurling like silk. “That little Black Dragon, when he was only a dragon egg, was nurtured here—no, most eggs are nurtured here.”

“The Undead happened to pass through like black frost,” she continued, tone even as a count. “When the eggs were moved, his wasn’t taken in time, and the Undead tainted his bloodline. Right?”

Ninety Nine Maiden’s expression twisted like bark under heat; her right fingernails lengthened, tips gleaming sharp as icicles.

“How... do you even know this?” Her words were jagged like broken glass.

Alicia raised a finger and tapped her temple like knocking on a gourd.

“This,” she said, smile bright as a whetstone’s spark. “A head a bit sharper than your Dragonfolk’s.”

“You’ve carved battle lore deep like runes on bone,” she went on, cadence steady as drumbeats. “But in talk and mind-games, you brawlers are soft.”

“You’re shut-ins, holed up in this eerie rift canyon like moths in a jar—what could you learn from conversation?” Her derision drifted like bitter smoke.

Ninety Nine Maiden lowered her head, hiding her eyes like a moon behind clouds; at last she drew back her nails, the meaning clear as still water.

“How do you plan to threaten us?” Her breath coiled like mist.

“Threaten you? No, no, you’re overthinking,” Alicia said, thanks lifting like a bow. “I should thank you.”

“Honestly, I didn’t even believe that deduction,” she added, tone light as a willow branch. “I confirmed one piece, then spun a tale like silk.”

“Your face mirrored the truth, so thanks for the answer.” Her smile glinted like a knife edge.

Ninety Nine Maiden covered her mouth, disbelief steaming like a kettle, and pointed at Alicia.

“You! You...” The words stumbled like loose stones.

“Don’t doubt it,” Alicia said, voice cool as a clear moon. “A deduction is just a deduction, not yet a fact. Next time, watch yourself, little dumb dragon.”

“And I don’t plan to spread it,” she went on, promise laid like a pebble. “This is what Ling wants to do; I should grant her wish.”

“Just don’t try to use us again, because—we’re Yokai,” she finished, the warning cold as iron. “We eat people, we eat beasts... and we eat dragons too.”