On the phone video, a single Chapter Three leg pushed into frame, furred with thin spines. It tapped the obsidian light-screen over Jiuqiong University, and the pressure hit like a falling sky. Lingchen Yao’s thoughts snagged for a heartbeat. Then the PA crackled alive, urging everyone underground.

He and his roommates stood in a rush. No bags, no keepsakes. They ran for the stairs, because money’s dust when your life’s on the line. This was a Chapter Three Monster.

The safehouse sat at the campus core. They had to cross a narrow skywalk, a bridge of glass over empty air. Up close, they saw that same Chapter Three leg drifting past like a storm cloud. Fine hairs bristled like needles. The foot ended in a curved Blade, and the Blade’s tip grew a row of backward barbs.

No time to think. Lingchen swung his arm, led his roommates forward, and they sprinted.

“Uh, did you see Lingchen Yao?”

They cleared the stairwell. The underground safehouse loomed before them. Outside the safe zone, rings of students packed the entrance like a tide, but something jammed the process. The gate held, and the crowd stalled.

Wang Qipeng hugged his se zither pillow like a talisman. He glanced around and counted under his breath. “One, two, three…”

He counted again. One missing. The one who’d charged first. Lingchen Yao was gone, vanished into the cracks of chaos.

“Lingchen’s gone!”

Ren Changxiao wanted to go back for him. Xun Xun blocked him with both hands. It was too dangerous. Above them, that massive foreleg could fall any breath. Even rock-hard as Jiuqiong University’s Obsidian Stone, it couldn’t keep out a Chapter Three forever.

He wouldn’t let Ren throw his life away. But neither of them could wipe their hands of a friend.

Boom.

While they hesitated, the monster’s other leg came down. It hit the obsidian barrier like a hammer on a gong. The impact wasn’t something a human body could ignore. The weight pressed like a mountain. Their shins filled with lead. Lifting a heel felt like dragging chains.

“That’s my phone!”

After the shockwave, Xun Xun dragged in a rough breath and let it out slow. He spotted a phone on the floor. The succubus lockscreen was unmistakable. It was one of his own, the one he’d lent to Lingchen.

He unlocked it. A snow-white note glowed on the screen. Ren and Wang leaned in.

“I’ve got something to do. You go in first. I’ll be right behind. —Lingchen Yao.”

At the instant they’d stepped out of the stairwell, Lingchen had taken one step right and melted into the stairwell’s shadow.

“Sorry. I’ve got things to do.”

He had power now. In the world’s last dusk, he had duties besides waiting to die—find Qianchun, find the Director, find Chen Xiaoyin. Make sure they lived.

“Magic Armor.”

Armor flowed over him like midnight water. Gray-white hair. A black and crimson high-waisted dress. Eyes dark-gold like autumn dusk. Night Frost stepped where Lingchen vanished and stood inside the stairwell’s shade. She studied her pale palm, then looked to the little dorm squad whispering how to find Lingchen. Warmth rose in her chest like a cup of tea.

She tapped on Xun Xun’s phone twice. She finished a text. As the monster’s second leg struck again, she flicked the phone to land at Xun Xun’s feet. Thank the stars it didn’t break. Otherwise, Lingchen and Night Frost together couldn’t afford the bill.

“All right, Eye Orb-san. We move.”

The obsidian wall’s barrier was one-way, out-only. With everyone herded below, no one stopped her. Night Frost slipped out of Jiuqiong like a shadow sliding under a door.

The sky was stained a deep violet by the Rift, and beyond the purple was an ocean of black. The stars looked loose, like nails yanked from a beam, tugged toward the Abyss.

The farther from the Rift, the better her signal. She dialed Qianchun first; relief washed her when the call went through. Then she keyed in Hao Wenqian. No answer. Same with Chen Xiaoyin.

Chen Xiaoyin had joined the Mutual Aid Society. She’d be with the Magic Maidens, moving as a unit. Hao Wenqian should be with her grandmother. That was a sharper blade’s edge.

Back to the wall, Night Frost mapped her next move. She pushed off to stand, then froze. The stink of Monsters slid in like cold iron.

Abyssal Rifts, big and small, tore open along the street like paper ripping. Space was brittle as frost glass. A whisper of Abyssal Aura was enough to seed a dozen cracks.

The liquid-like bugs that sped up Rifts had been wiped out by the Order Keeper. But this district’s fabric was already riddled with holes.

Night Frost’s own Abyssal Aura in Magic Armor was faint, but it was enough to crack open the door the swarm desired.

Big and small. Red and green. Tall and squat. An army of insects spilled out like beads from a split pouch. They ringed her—this girl of Mana and Abyssal scent—yet they didn’t lunge.

They hesitated. Was Night Frost enemy or kin? The sky’s king would decide.

The swarm waited for the mind that steered them. Night Frost took two steps back. Her dark-gold eyes swept the circle. She drank in every tell—the carapace shine, the joint angles, the crawl pattern.

“First Symphony, twenty-seven. Cantata Two, one.”

“How many Magic Stones do we have left?”

She glanced at the Eye Orb crouched on her shoulder like a watchful crow. The Eye Orb produced a Magic Stone and set it in her palm. This was all they owned.

The Stone was poor quality. Any array carved into it wouldn’t stall a Cantata Two by a hair.

Night Frost pooled Mana in her core. If the swarm twitched, fire would eat them, bite by bite, like frost gnawing a leaf.

…

Qianchun moved through the sewers, a fox through the city’s veins. Ten days here had taught her every bend. After resting in a corner, she followed the thin stream deeper.

The tunnels were old. Rubble and dust and rat bones paved the way. Qianchun didn’t flinch. She clawed them aside and crawled forward. This was her line of work. She’d seen worse.

Lingchen had told her to hide. She couldn’t.

She had no Magic Stones, but she could still do what others couldn’t. Wind rose blue-green in her palm. It flicked the blocking insects away like chaff.

These were ordinary bugs, born of the human world. The Rift above had made them vicious. Anyone could tell—the enemy this time was insects.

Qianchun took a turn, rested again, then shouldered up a street manhole. She slipped out at the corner. A metal sign in white letters caught her eye—Yunyang Road.

Follow Yunyang Road deeper, and the Yunyang Orphanage stood in its corner like an old tree.

Its iron gate, scabbed with years, was locked tight. Qianchun rode a blade of wind to crest the fence and dropped inside with a cat’s care.

The yard was too quiet. The wind’s whisper was a warning. She blew the yard’s bugs away. Wind Blades sliced the ones wriggling from the dirt. Without Magic Stones, that work drained her Mana to the dregs.

The ranked swarms hadn’t washed over this place yet. These were the common sort. For now, the Orphanage still held.

“Is anyone there?”

Silence bled through the house. No answer.

After a long beat, rustling. A child’s cry broke the hush like a pebble on glass. Qianchun realized someone was inside.

“I’m Lingchen Yao’s friend. Qianchun. Is anyone there?”

At the name, the stainless-steel door shuddered. Hao Wenqian, wrapped in a windbreaker, cracked it open and waved Qianchun in fast.

“You’re Yao-ge’s friend?”

Hao Wenqian eyed Qianchun up and down, dirt-smeared and tired. She handed her a cup of warm water. Qianchun thanked her, shared what she knew, and sent a message telling Lingchen that Wenqian was safe.

She didn’t know if he’d receive it.

“You crawled the sewers because you were afraid this place would be hit?”

“That’s right. L—Lingchen Yao told me to hide, but if danger came here, he’d run back without thinking. This is his home. I’ll guard it. I’m not strong, but I’ll do my share. He has things he must do…”

Wenqian let that last bit slide. Lingchen was a normal guy. What could he do in a calamity like this?

“Help?”

Her eyes lit up. Since Lingchen and Chen Xiaoyin left, and with the Director in poor health, the Orphanage was short-staffed. Too many children. Two hands couldn’t hold a flood. One more helper was a blessing.

“You’re a Magic Maiden?”

She asked it straight. In this sealed room, she felt the wind stir. She guessed.

Qianchun didn’t hide it. She nodded.

“That’s great. The news says this is a large-scale invasion. The Rifts spread fast. I don’t have time to take the kids to the safehouse… my grandma’s frail and bedridden. If you can stand guard here, I’ll sprint the kids over before the bugs arrive—”

“If it’s the safehouse, it’s probably too late now. Earlier, the two of us might’ve pulled it off.”

The violet Rift tore the black sky wider and wider. The dim windows filled with purple glow. Insects of every shape dove out of that light, slammed into the streets, and thunder rolled like drums.

“All we can do now is hold this place with everything we’ve got.”