As if!

In truth, Yanfengle’s power already outstripped Edgar’s, like a torch outshining a candle in a windy night. On the surface they were even, but if Yanfengle willed it, Edgar wouldn’t last long.

Dear goddess… sis—can I do that thing once, QAQ? His plea fluttered like a sparrow tapping at a window.

[...]

If you don’t answer, I’ll take it as a yes~ His grin spread like dawn over a sleepy pond.

[...]

That idiot… his edgelord phase flared again, a spark in dry straw. Somewhere in the void, a certain presence sighed, like wind through old pines.

“Hah!” Yanfengle’s blade carved a ring of fire through the air, a halo like a rising sun, forcing space between them like a wave parting ships.

“Your strength’s not bad. Then… I should go all out.” His gaze tightened like frost on glass, and his blade roared like a bonfire.

In Edgar’s eyes, it meant something else, a shadow cast across pride: You aren’t even worth my full power yet, like a wolf reserving its bite.

A dim-witted lower race looking down on Edgar… He’d make him wish for death, like a cliffside where waves never stop breaking.

Seeing the red gleam in Edgar’s eyes grow savage, Yanfengle’s gut knotted like a storm gathering. But he forced calm to finish his line; this was the point—his inner show-off had long wanted to try it, a dream flickering like fireflies.

“Next, I’m gonna unleash one badass attack!” His voice popped like a spark in tinder.

“Fire God’s Dance!” The words rang like temple bells under a noon sky.

He mimicked a move from an old anime in his head, blended it with his Xiaji Eight-Cleave sword style, and unleashed his strongest skill, sparks trailing like meteors.

Edgar felt a terrifying surge of mana roll off him, a tide pounding a cliff, stoking his battle lust. “Come then! Let me see how far your so-called Fire God’s Dance can go!”

Bloodrage, Stage Three—Boiling, like a cauldron under a thunderhead.

Scarlet vapor flooded the sky above him, painting it like sunset spilled too soon; he stood stronger than when he’d fought Qingsheng Tangxue, a peak jutting higher after an earthquake.

With the Vampire clan’s honor on the line, he couldn’t lose to this bastard, like a banner refusing to fall in a storm.

Stage Three twisted Edgar’s whole body; pallid skin stained crimson like maple leaves after frost; dark vessels bulged beneath like roots pushing soil; steam hissed off him like geysers; at a glance, he was a humanoid beast, a nightmare lumbering out of mist that made hearts quail.

He charged straight into the fire ring, bright as a noonday sun, like a bull battering through a blazing gate.

No way I’m trading lives… Inwardly, Yanfengle wiped cold sweat, beads sliding like rain down a window.

The ring met Edgar head-on with a thunderous blast, a mountain crack echoing; yet the move’s bite wasn’t all that, more flare than furnace.

Breath of the Maggot, First Form—Ripple Sprint! The name skittered off his tongue like a lizard over stones.

“Later, sir! This young master’s done playing—ahahahaha!” He bolted like a startled hare, leaving Edgar stunned, a statue in a sudden squall.

He felt like a monkey toyed with by children, palms itching like nettles.

Before he snapped out of it, Yanfengle had vanished like morning mist, footfalls swallowed by the crowd like pebbles plunging into a lake.

“Huh? What’s that…” As Yanfengle prepared to leave, he spotted a huge pool in the central plaza, moon-bright and ringed by staring faces. A familiar-looking girl sat caged at its heart, a lone bird behind silver bars.

She looked fourteen at most, with pale-blue hair flowing like river silk, and faint, transparent scales glimmered by her rose-white cheeks like frost. Light-gold eyes mirrored the angry crowd beyond the water, pupils steady as lanterns. She wore the Heavenly Melody Academy uniform like him, but beneath the skirt coiled a tail banded in deep-blue scales, a wave carved in sapphire. Not quite like the TV mermaids in his memory, yet just as arresting—at a glance, you’d drift, like leaves on a quiet pond.

“Wait, isn’t that Qingsheng Tangxue? Why is she locked in a cage? She’s the mermaid… right? And that person near her… the City Lord?!” His breath hitched like a plucked string.

Why is the City Lord with those cultists? The thought crawled like vines through old stone.

After a heartbeat’s hesitation, he vanished like a flicker between trees, then reappeared near the plaza, face blank as winter stone. Under stunned eyes, he did what others wouldn’t dare—he swung with all his strength, his blade cleaving toward the cage like lightning splitting a trunk.

Are you crazy!? The voice in his skull cracked like thunder, anger laced into wind.

Why shout so loud, ow! He clutched his head, pain blooming like thorns. I just want to save a classmate, that’s all… His guilt rippled like a pebble tossed in a pond.

She saved me last time… The memory glowed like an ember in ash.

Save? She needs you to save her? The scoff was cold, a north wind sliding over ice.

Not to mention she’s not in danger right now; do you even know the one who set that cage is the same person who laid the barrier trapping Heavenly Melody Academy? The truth fell like a curtain, heavy as rain.

Then I should stop her more, right? Distract her, and the teachers can get out. His words bristled like grass in a stiff breeze.

Idiot! Her main goal is that cage! If you chop it, you’re picking a fight to the bitter end, like yanking a tiger’s whiskers! You ruin something she prepared with care—do you think that woman will just watch you run? The goddess’s temper flashed like lightning, and her gentleness burned away like fog.

But the content hit him harder, a chill threading his spine like winter water.

Wait… you’re saying she’ll drop the barrier just to deal with me? His voice thinned like a reed flute.

He looked at the cage, nearly severed, and his heart turned cold, ice cracking on a river.

I think… she’d rather kill you. The words were a knife laid on snow.

“…” His silence pooled like dusk in a courtyard.

“What are you spacing out for, Yanfengle! Leave, now! That woman’s coming to kill you!” The blue-haired girl’s shout rang like a bell, urgent and bright.

Tangxue had been shocked by his strike, a flare in fog; but she didn’t believe the woman would open the cage if it broke. What bound her wasn’t the bars so much as… that presence always watching from the forest, a shadow rooted like an old cedar.

“Hurry up and get out! I can feel it—she really wants you dead now. If you don’t run fast, Yanfengle, you’re done!” Her warning whipped like a flag in gale.

“Ahhh, stop talking, ahhh!” Yanfengle spun, panic clawing like cats; his blade clattered aside like fallen antlers. He’d just seen a pair of mournful eyes watching from the trees near the Academy, cold as stars. Is it still in time to run… His breath came thin, a thread in frost.

Wait for death! (sulking) The goddess’s pout curled like smoke.

There’s still time! Tangxue’s tone turned firm, a pillar planted on a shore. Yanfengle, run east along the barrier. I’ll stall her as much as I can. Once you’re out, head straight east to the Radiant Empire’s capital! Even if you meet Xuewei, don’t stop! You must—must tell Bai Zhi what’s happening here! Only she can resolve this crisis! Her words fell like stones in a river, making a path.

“…Tangxue… are you sure?” His face knotted like tangled reeds.

You’ve seen it, right? I’m not human. Don’t measure me by human standards… and maybe my age isn’t as small as you think. Her smile curved like a moon on still water.

…You’re right. He shook his head, then sprinted east, a streak like a swallow breaking free.

I’ll leave it to you, Tangxue! His shout trailed like a banner.

Looks like I can’t slack off, sigh… Tangxue exhaled, a ripple in a deep pool, and gripped the cage, fingers biting like anchors.

Yanfengle’s strike had left a deep scar, a fissure running like a river in ice; that blade suppressed Qing Feng Yuelian, its edge humming like a ward. With effort, she could break the cage, bars creaking like old bamboo.

If that woman feared her escape, she couldn’t split her focus to chase the boy, duty and desire tugging like tides.

So I absolutely can’t let her— The thought tightened like a bowstring, mid-pull.

Just then, a song floated through the city, slow as drifting snow. It was a lullaby Tangxue had heard every night for ten years, a lamp swaying in memory.

This time the voice was more delicate, threads fine as silk; compared to before, it held less tenderness and more solemn weight, like incense in a dark hall.

A requiem… Tangxue pressed her brow, pressure blooming like thunder. Turns out Dreamsound couldn’t sing it before at all… This is a whole different level, ahhh! Her gasp fluttered like startled birds.