The scarlet ribbon cut sharper than any Blade. A light sweep split the stone wall that caged Night Frost, and cleaved the Abyss like water parted by a guillotine.

Mana surged like a storm across the eight wilds. At its eye, Crimson stood as the lone god.

Fear brimmed in Chu Qing’s eyes before any motion. She had gained nothing, yet her toes pressed against the Ultimate. She glimpsed the door’s corner. No divine favor, no esoteric runes. She didn’t understand why a human could carry such strength.

Against Crimson as she was now, Chu Qing had no chance unless she reached Chapter Three. No… even Chapter Three might fail.

“You’re just a mortal!”

This layer of Abyss was thin as rice paper. She poked it, and it tore. Once, Crimson had needed effort, but in the Ultimate she ripped it with a breath.

With the Abyss broken, its Abyssal Aura bled into the air like mist. Chu Qing had less to draw. Now it was the human realm’s stage. Compared to the Abyss, the ground seethed with denser Mana, while the Abyssal Aura dwindled to a tenth.

Crimson hovered over the underground district, a rose against the dim vault. The ribbon coiled under her will, lashing for Chu Qing. Chu Qing knew that ribbon wasn’t simple. She beat her wings and fled, tri-colored light condensing into a Magic Cannon. It punched a hole through the hardened undercity, and she dove through like a swallow.

Chu Qing was a product of the human Abyss. With that Abyss cleaved and dispelled by Crimson, her strength would only wane without ample Abyssal Aura.

Yet she wasn’t born solely of that human Abyss. The god and the Key could stabilize most of her power. If she escaped and fed on enough Abyssal Aura, Chapter Three might still be in reach.

She dimmed the tri-colored glow. Scales crawled over her like frost, shaping her toward a dragon. Slender limbs hardened into claws.

Crimson wouldn’t give her that window. The keen ribbon would run her through. Metal, earth, and flame fused into strength would mean nothing before the Ultimate—

Bitterness rose first in Chu Qing’s chest. If she killed Crimson, she would reach Chapter Three. With the Abyss, she could claim a domain. Then springboard to the Ultimate. But Crimson had stepped ahead by some unknown road.

Chu Qing tore free of the ribbon. Blood smeared the gold scales like rust at dawn. Her heart churned the turbid Blood. The Blood burned and rose as her strength.

Memories in the Blood pointed the shortest path like constellations. She sprinted beneath the Rouge Rabbit’s burrowed reaches, racing toward the border of the Twelfth District.

Crimson’s eyes, veiled in scarlet, followed like twin lanterns. Her extravagant skirts opened to the wind, a full rose in bloom. Ribbons wound her arms, restless as vines seeking the sun.

Crimson flicked a glance at the left-arm ribbon. It settled like a tamed snake. The right ribbon coiled around the Wand she condensed, tying itself into a bow. She found it gaudy, and worse, it cramped her fight.

She was built for body-hardening, for close quarters. This dress screamed for Magic Cannon duels.

A Magic Stone was set in the Wand’s skin. Guided by the Stone, Crimson could shape the familiar and the half-forgotten Magic Spell like pulling threads. With a thought, the past mirrored itself in the little Stone. Those spells braided into fresh sentences.

Her past was sealed inside the Stone, her former self bottled like amber. Shed that cocoon, and a new self stood— a dressed Ultimate—

“Restriction Four, release!”

“O thousand hues in full bloom! Obey my will. Gather on my Wand— Cantata: Reprise! Exposition!”

Mana around her flocked to the Wand like birds to a branch. It became three layered runes, each tremor tugging heaven and earth into a shiver.

This power could level a city like sand wiped from slate. If that Mana left the Wand, it would be a cataclysm. Crimson didn’t loose it.

She opened her palm. The Wand stayed steady. After the last line of the Magic Spell, she didn’t stop. In the air before her hand, complex lines blossomed, weaving an arc-shaped Array Pattern like a moon-gate.

“O distant future that hasn’t answered! Obey my heart’s song. Mirror dream and tomorrow— Cantata: Crescendo! Fantasia!”

The arc split into many leaves. They blocked the fleeing Chu Qing like falling fans. The rest swarmed, sealing her from every side, leaving only the face toward the Magic Cannon. No matter how she struck, the latticework light-curtain held like tempered glass.

“Take the opening and the finale. Take every last drop.”

Crimson turned her wrist. The Magic Stone at the Wand’s tip blazed, brighter than the noon sun, washing the world in white-gold.

Her finger trailed the Wand’s crown. Lines on it sharpened like ink refreshed. Then a crimson pillar burst from its heart with a whoosh.

Boom— a deafening blast. The wasteland before Crimson was swallowed by crimson light. Dirt and stone leapt and vanished the instant they rose, ash in the pillar. Unstable Mana splashing inside melted the ground like candle-wax.

Mana rampaged. The pillar swept on, flattening everything into a bare plain. Only Crimson remained, and a scarred earth like a scabbed wound. Life felt erased beneath that light. Thankfully, she had bound the blast. Unchecked, the pillar’s ruin would’ve been far worse.

At the pillar’s end, Chu Qing stood, bathed in Blood like rain. Her dragon-shape failed. One long lock lay ragged over her shoulders. Her face was pale, her eyes muddy, her lips cracked with a thin line of red.

She lowered her head and stared at her chest. A slender cut opened at her heart, and she felt no pain, only empty cold.

Through the wound, she glimpsed the Key flickering like a firefly. Runes cradled it, locking it inside her heart.

With earth, metal, and flame, with Crimson’s restraint, with the Earth Dragon Heart’s recovery, she had survived by a small miracle. But she knew the truth. That wash of Mana had scoured her Abyssal Aura to zero. A body swollen with Mana felt like foreign armor.

Those rabid currents poured into her Blood, unseaming her flesh like acid. Save for the heart, soon this shell would slump into a puddle of Blood.

Crimson dropped lightly to the ground, a leaf settling. Her glow thinned, shedding like dusk. The incomplete new release lasted only three minutes. Past and present selves swapped like masks. Her strength and realm slid back to before.

Then came the rasp at her ear, a needling whisper like sand in a shell. The memories of the yellow, green, blue trio, and the pure mind-force she had carried from the Abyss— the guard against the unknown whisper— vanished after the release.

My head’s splitting like cracked ice…

Crimson pressed her temples. Her vision flickered between pitch-black and bright spring. She raised the Wand and stepped toward the helpless Chu Qing, ready to swing for the final stroke.

In that instant, a black-gold afterimage scooped Crimson up and sprinted away like a shadow stag. Black-gold flame wrapped her in a rushing cocoon.

It was Night Frost!

“Yes… that’s it! Leave with her, and we can flip the board… She’s hit her limit. Even miracles won’t save her!”

Chu Qing cried out, excitement bursting like sparks. Even empty of strength, she believed she hadn’t lost. If they reached the Second District and recovered, by then Crimson would be dead. She would reach Chapter Three and stand unmatched.

Her words snapped in half, cut short like a string.

“Uh…”

Chu Qing’s eyes went wide, pupils swallowing light to ink. In that heartbeat, she met Night Frost’s dark-gold gaze. Slim hands, bare of dragon scales, pierced her body like knives, and drew out the heart veined with cracks.

“What… are you doing? We had such a chance… You are… my… crea…tion…”

Without a heart, Chu Qing’s systems froze. Gold scales dulled and peeled from her skin like old paint. The made body couldn’t bear the flood. It split, then crumbled and dissolved in Night Frost’s arms like wet clay.

Night Frost tossed her aside like trash. The heart remained, thrashing madly. Black Blood slid from Night Frost’s fingers in slow drops.

This heart wasn’t hers, nor the Black Dragon’s. Only this way could she crush that false one.

That fake had dogshit luck, stealing everything that should’ve been hers.

“For me, lend me your strength. Let me claim the name of Abyss… Die proud.”

She opened her own chest, a clean line, and didn’t flinch. She and Night Frost had lived with pain underfoot. If she mastered this heart, she would be her true self at last.

Her chest was hollow, a dark cave. Her original heart had turned to a useless pool of Blood when Chu Qing died. The flame and Black Flame inside her rioted like beasts.

Only by mastering this heart could she still that unrest and quell the surge. Then the gold flame would belong to her. With the Key and the runes, she would become the new voice of that will.

Behind Night Frost, another Night Frost closed in, riding the CrimsonGoldFlame like a comet. Without doubt, she was the true Night Frost.

Night Frost reached Crimson and steadied her like a tree propping a banner. Crimson could barely stand. The high-intensity fight had drained her to the dregs. She needed rest.

“Sorry. I couldn’t stop her…”

Night Frost helped Crimson to the side, letting her rest against a wall like cool stone.

“Leave the rest to me… She and I have an unfinished fight. I need to know the truth.”