“Ah... so that’s the splinter under your skin.”

Qing Feng Yuelian smiled, the tension melting from her face like frost under dawn.

“If you want a fight, I’m game. Anytime, under any moon.”

“Mmm-hmm~ you think I only want a simple fight?”

Giggles spilled from Tangxue as her strength surged back; a few transparent sword-lights skimmed past Qing Feng Yuelian, like glass minnows flicking through water.

Qing Feng Yuelian caught a drifting strand of blue hair between her fingers, as light as a feather in wind. “Hair takes time to grow back...”

“You’re... hinting I can’t hurt you?!”

“Uh-huh. If that’s all you’ve got, then no~”

Tangxue’s eyes darkened; an invisible pressure rose like a storm tide rolling in.

Ever since she reclaimed Frostwhisper, her power had reached the quasi-divine; refining that divine demonic force was just a matter of time, like sap thickening into amber. Talking now only stalled the clock... mm.

“I said it already. Today, no matter what... you pay. And... you’re not my only target.”

White light flashed, sharp as a sliver of moon; the blue-haired little girl who’d been curled on the ground was yanked into the iron-cold sky.

“What’s going on... why did Little Shengsheng flip like a coin? She feels so strange now...”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Qing Feng Yuelian’s wry smile was thin as paper in rain.

“I... but Frostwhisper didn’t tell me anything!”

“Set that aside. Frostwhisper... is it that Frostwhisper?”

“Mm.” Dreamsound nodded, eyes steady as still water. “Exactly the same.”

“No wonder... so that little one was born because you used ‘Miracle’ on the child.” Qing Feng Yuelian glanced at her little niece, like a willow bending to weigh its leaf.

“I didn’t mistake her.” Dreamsound pouted, cheeks puffed like a small storm cloud. “And I birthed her myself. What I decide is mine alone.”

“But what now? We can’t let her keep wrecking things. If she kills all those people, she might take the city with them, like fire eating dry grass.”

Qing Feng Yuelian looked into the high cold and said, “Before, I wouldn’t believe it. Now I feel that surge in her—an arrogance that wants to crown the world, a madness that howls like winter.”

[I’ve been suppressing, for over a dozen years, the mad face inside her spirit. That madness was born with her, and it’s her wellspring of power. So she wouldn’t grow too fast, I sealed that impulse with my own strength. She is Ling Yehan... and she’s also Qingsheng Tangxue’s frenzy made flesh.]

[What I suppressed was the soul’s emotion, so she could grow like a normal child... so she could have a life bright as spring.]

“Was that Frostwhisper?” Qing Feng Yuelian asked softly, as if speaking to a wind-chime.

“Should be. I know that voice too well...”

[And you ruined all of it!]

“Ahhh, don’t spook me—shit!”

[If you don’t want her to break everything, make her suppress that impulse herself. A master lost to frenzy has no reason. I... can’t stop her.]

“Thank you, Frostwhisper. So that’s how it is...” Dreamsound offered a deep thanks in her heart, like bowing before an ancestral tablet. She moved to rise and save her daughter—but Qing Feng Yuelian barred the way, a hand like a calm gate.

“Let me. This started with me... even if she kills me, it’s fine.”

“No!”

Qing Feng Yuelian smiled like a lantern’s quiet flame. “Let me go, Little Dreamsound... I’ve done so little for my own. Let this aunt give something back, just this once, okay? Otherwise... how will I face the ancestors below the soil?”

“Little Aunt...” Dreamsound looked at her, emotions knotted like reeds in a stream.

“Silly. I’ll be fine. Wait for me.”

Qing Feng Yuelian winked, then streamed after Tangxue like a streak of dusk.

“Shit! That maniac’s on the move!”

“Everyone, eyes up! Do not engage—pull out, now!”

A quick voice cut through the din. The cultists who’d been circling the Snow Wolf King and beating Yanfengle stiffened like hares hearing a branch snap. Eyes flitted, nerves strung tight.

Too late.

“My hand! My hand—ahhh!”

“She’s too fast! That’s beyond a normal quasi-divine—stacking up won’t matter!”

Elder Guishi’s brows furrowed like two knotted cords. “Tch... the rest of you, retreat now. I’ll cover.”

“Jiehua, you—”

“Shut up and go! I can’t hold her long!” Elder Guishi Jiehua tore off the gray hooded robe that always cloaked her. A pale face surfaced like a winter moon; coffee-brown hair tied in a single ponytail lay quiet across her chest. Not stunning, but steady, the kind of face that lingered like after-rain. Only... a deep scar slashed her cheek, a dark red that refused to fade, like dried blood in stone.

It was the first time she showed her true face, and it would be the last.

“You—” The red-haired man who’d been planning to eat the Snow Wolf King twitched at the mouth, bravado curdling like milk.

“Stare one more time and I’ll scoop your eyes out,” Jiehua said, voice cold as a blade in snow. Her glare cut like sleet.

“Old hag, don’t you dare die!” He spun and bolted, feet drumming the ground like frantic drums.

“...”

“Oh my? What are you all chatting about... hee-hee~”

Before Elder Guishi Jiehua could react, a slender sword had already slid through her chest, clean as a needle through silk.

“Run? Why run... We just met. Besides, aren’t you the living dead? Why would the living dead fear death?”

“...”

With her chest pierced, Jiehua felt no pain; the cold had numbed her nerves like frost over a river, and even the blood at her breast had frozen into rubies of ice.

She stayed calm, a still pond under winter sky, no terror in the shadow of death.

Did those who died under her hand feel the same at the end?

If... only that demon hadn’t come to her village back then...

But there is no if.

Jiehua raised a trembling right hand and clamped the slim blade at her chest, fingers white as chalk. She gambled everything on one last move.

“Form follows the heart...”

“Thousand-Stone Phantasm!”

Centered on the two of them, layers of colossal boulder-shadows bloomed like terraces, expanding outward in rings.

The stone phantoms thickened from mist to matter, while Jiehua’s figure thinned like breath on glass.

It was her life-trading technique. She didn’t know how long it would stall the monster before her—but a moment was a bridge her people could cross.

“You... demons, laugh while you can. Soon... you’ll choke on it...”

“Mmm~ you think I won’t laugh?” Tangxue licked her pink lips, a rose petal sheen. “I’ve figured it out. Things that make me unhappy? I’ll erase them. Why did I ever stifle my smile? I’m such an optimist—gigglegiggle~”

“Layered stone shadows, looking unbreakable, but really akin to ice...” She sighed. “Forget it. I’ll brute-force it. Don’t feel like thinking.”

Outside the swelling ring of boulder phantoms, a bar of white light drew a clean horizon. The shadows shuddered, then stopped growing, like surf cut by a reef.

An instant later, the stones burst apart like clay pots. Through the smoke, a little girl floated out, light as a snowflake that refused to fall.

“...None of you are getting away.”

“You’ve killed enough, right? Even if not, I can’t let you keep going. I hate those people too, but if they die like this, it’ll trouble me...”

After all, they were precious chess pieces on her cold board.

Qing Feng Yuelian drifted to Tangxue’s side, calm as a cloud.

“Ah-la~ mixing with those rats, did you grow a heartstring for them? Hmm... If I kill them one by one, will your face get more interesting? Hey... what do you think, Frostwhisper?”

Tangxue didn’t look back. She twirled the slim sword, a silver reed in a winter stream.

“...”

“Talking without looking at someone is a bad habit. Especially toward your elders... didn’t Little Dreamsound teach you?”

“An el-der?” Tangxue sounded like she’d heard a good joke, sour-sweet and sharp. She turned slowly to Qing Feng Yuelian. “What exactly are you supposed to be?”

Qing Feng Yuelian thought seriously, then said, “...Great-auntie?”

“Get lost!!”

Tangxue’s face soured like rain on lime. She slashed the air with invisible fury; cold-edged wind blades skimmed past Qing Feng Yuelian every time, each stroke sharp enough to shave a mountain flat.

“You keep swinging like that... Aren’t you afraid you’ll level the city?” Qing Feng Yuelian offered the warning like a leaf laid on a blade.

Tangxue snapped without thinking, “What’s the city’s safety got to do with me?”

“...” Qing Feng Yuelian didn’t answer. She just smiled, a crescent in the night.

“Since you don’t care either, let’s have a proper bout. It’s been a while since I fought seriously. I hope... Tangxue, you let me enjoy it.”

“Hee-hee... I’ll make sure... you enjoy it.”

In a blink, a deep-blue scythe blossomed beside Qing Feng Yuelian, like a midnight sickle reaping stars.

“As you can see, I’m a bad kid who hates tradition. Not a proper spear, but a wicked scythe. Should I, as your elder, spot you a few rounds, Tangxue?” Qing Feng Yuelian smiled at her, calm as a lake.

That smile only needled Tangxue deeper, like grit under skin.

“No. Need.”

She gripped the hilt with both hands. Frost raced over the slim blade; the sword swelled in her palms like a glacier shouldering down a valley. In a heartbeat, Frostwhisper had become a greatsword made for two hands.

“Don’t think a scythe scares me.”