Tangxue whooshed like a pale shadow behind Tianhuo Yan and swung an ice blade for her head, a crescent of winter cutting the air. But Tianhuo Yan moved with lazy grace and kicked her away like a falling spark.

Know why I came here? This place is the world’s only breach, a crack in the shell of creation. You tried to borrow a Divine Artifact and force a miracle. So can I. I don’t even need its power. I just need its presence to pry open the frozen gap and reclaim my own divinity.

Tianhuo Yan smiled, slow as a serpent in sun. She raised her right hand, and fire bloomed in her palm, warping the air like heat over dunes.

Ever seen… a miracle?

[Miracle, Starburn]

A heatwave that could scorch the sky rolled through the catacombs like a tidal sun. In that heartbeat, Tangxue flashed to Yaya’s side and wrapped her in frost like a cocoon. Half the palace evaporated in a white hiss, a horizon turned to steam, and even with Tangxue’s shelter, Yaya’s life hung by a thread of ice.

Yaya pried her eyes open through ash and mist. Fire gnawed half her body, a hive of pain under boiling sea. Sight blurred to gold and black, touch went numb as deep water, and instinct alone made her clutch the girl beside her like driftwood.

Tangxue… are you… okay?

It’s okay now, Mom. It’s okay. Tangxue patted her back like rain on leaves, voice low and steady, and poured her mana into knitting scorched flesh.

Tianhuo Yan strolled over like a flame on a breeze, contempt curling her tone. Weren’t you going to kill me? What now—you can’t even stand?

That blast had broken over Tangxue like a storm on a cliff. Her back was raw and red, bloodless as kiln-fired clay against pale skin.

Once she felt Mom wasn’t dying, Tangxue let out a frosted breath. She brushed off burnt scraps like dead petals, and wove herself a dress of rime that glittered like dawn.

Again.

Tianhuo Yan didn’t answer. She slid back a few steps and sat by the Divine Artifact, watching as if from the eye of a firestorm.

Tangxue raised the same trap, rank upon rank of ice spikes blooming like a crystal forest. Tianhuo Yan didn’t dodge; she let the ring close like jaws, confident her heat could melt winter.

But she underestimated Tangxue. This frost wasn’t snow; it was law, a cold that wouldn’t yield to ordinary flame.

Her eyes finally widened. By the time she understood, it was too late. Buried in the ring, she couldn’t even shift into pure element, her fire smothered like a candle in hail. Tangxue dove into the ice and raised Frostwhisper, her blade a falling moon, aiming to end it in one breath.

The stroke shattered the crystal shell like a glacier calving. Tianhuo Yan didn’t guard; she took the blow head-on to tear free, a new blood line bright on her skin like a comet’s trail. She didn’t panic. She glared, cold as a grave. Her hand became a fire claw that raked stone to magma, and molten rivers spilled across the vault like a red flood.

Rock that should’ve been the palace’s spine melted like wet paper. Only the ground within Tangxue’s ward remained, a lone island in a lava sea.

The next beat, lava bullets shot out, etched with her magic and sigils, meteors guided by a witch’s script. Each blast could erase a city like chalk in rain. Tangxue raised ice shields around herself and Mom, domes of winter in a burning ocean, and held on by grit alone.

[Miracle, Daystar]

A golden sunflower of flame burst in their faces and covered the sea in solar gold. The unleashed power tried to unmake the world like a tide stripping a beach. At the brink, the Sea God Trident flickered blue, a wave in steel, and caged the blast inside this narrow vault. Tangxue braced under crushing pressure like a mast in a gale and survived the bombardment. She leaned on Frostwhisper, swaying like a sapling in wind. Her wounds wouldn’t close; her body creaked at its limits like ice in spring.

Looks like my attacks worked. Your body’s about to give, isn’t it? Tianhuo Yan smiled, leaped from the dais like a spark, and walked in with hunter’s certainty.

Flames gathered into orbs around her, little suns wheeling like fireflies. She flicked a finger, and they slammed at the girl like meteors. Tangxue shifted at the instant of impact, a sidestep like a slipping brook, but there were too many. Dodge one, and ten more fell like rain.

Suddenly, Frostwhisper tore free of Tangxue’s will and shielded her, a silver arc catching the storm. Then, under Tangxue’s stunned gaze, it settled back into a slender sword, quiet as falling snow.

Frostwhisper…

Tangxue stared at the blade in her palm, her eyes going glassy like ice over deep water.

Oh? A Divine Artifact… Tianhuo Yan sounded truly surprised. She felt divinity hum along that edge like distant thunder. And the girl’s power was strange—more than that woman’s brand, braided with other gods like mixed currents.

Her surprise hardened to caution, a flame she cupped with both hands. The girl’s power felt wrong, like winter in summer.

I remember. You’re that wo—

A thin ice needle speared her throat, clean as a starlit thorn. Tangxue looked at her with polar calm, and a filament of ice unspooled from her fingertip, a reaper’s line finding its mark.

Tianhuo Yan’s face twisted like metal in heat. She snarled, grabbed the ice thread like wire, and snapped it with a jerk. She didn’t care about the wound; she wrenched herself off the spike, and a deep gash opened across her neck like a second smile.

Tsk. Lunatic… just like that woman.

Even as she spat the word, she dissolved into fire and fled her footing like ash on wind. A heartbeat later, indestructible ice spikes lanced through that patch of ground like spears from the earth. Tangxue’s eyes locked onto her trail, cold stars in a storm, and a brutal beam of mana roared after her like lightning.

If Tianhuo Yan chose to run, Tangxue couldn’t tag her. But she didn’t plan to run. Both had tempers like flint; neither would bend at a cliff’s edge.

Tianhuo Yan slid back to the Divine Artifact and countered at once. A crimson fire-tornado coiled up like a dragon and smashed into Tangxue’s attack with a furnace roar.

They went all in, no breath held back. Frost-born sword-lights hacked the fire vortex like hail against a blaze, and both bled magic like spilled wine. Neither gained ground. Their clash broke past the world’s ceiling, a miracle hammered from ice and flame. Mana shockwaves boiled the sea like a cauldron. Above, clouds curled into a whirlpool, and loose magic streamed in like migrating birds. Even the sky split into cyan and crimson like torn silk.

This brat… Tianhuo Yan’s face warped like wax; her time was burning out.

As her power ran dry, unwillingness flared, a last coal in ash. She opened her final reserve.

Die, ha ha ha!

A violent surge exploded from her body, a supernova of fury, and it eclipsed everything she’d unleashed before like noon over dawn.