The activation failed. The Magic Stone had grown erratic ever since Qianchun took hold of it—seemingly sentient, responding only to its own whims.

Staring at the unresponsive stone, Qianchun knew it was time to fall back. Reluctant as she was, delaying the battle for her sake would make her culpable. She’d head to Zhou Jiaxin’s position; she worried Zhou might not have completed her instructions.

Qianchun slipped into the void, tucked the Magic Stone into her pocket, and emerged in the Twelfth District branch’s underground warehouse—a chamber housing precious artifacts and Magic Tools.

At its center stood a massive cannon etched head-to-toe in Array Patterns. Crafted by Night Frost’s nominal master for the assault on the Abyss of "Humanity," it was flanked by two shells similarly engraved—one incomplete, the old man’s failed attempt.

*Heave-ho!*

Zhou Jiaxin strained to push the cannon toward the spatial portal. Qianchun stepped forward, lent a hand, and together they maneuvered it to the passage’s edge.

But Qianchun wouldn’t retrace her steps. She’d take a detour to the battlefield’s opposite flank. Bombarding from there would ease pressure on Qiu Sheng’s team—a key part of her improvised plan.

Because the Magic Stone answered only to her, she’d adjust: operate the cannon herself, and "borrow" a few Magic Tools for a surprise edge.

She’d contacted Blade immediately. Blade scolded her fiercely at first, but after Qianchun argued firmly, Blade had no choice but to relent.

Still, Blade warned: this cannon was the warehouse’s last heavy weapon. Its shells couldn’t be tossed carelessly into other dimensions. Both cannon and shells were cumbersome—the shells alone stood as tall as Qianchun’s forearm—which was why Blade left them.

Yet its power was no joke. Focused, it could obliterate countless First Symphony monsters in a flash; even Cantata Two entities would struggle. After all, this was Night Frost’s master’s masterpiece. Weakness would be a mockery.

*Click.*

The basement door opened. Qianchun froze, then snapped into alert. No one entered here without Blade’s permission. All useful Magic Tools had been distributed; only impractical or tactically useless items remained.

Who would come here now?

A hunched figure slowly pushed the door wider. Wrinkled face, bloodshot dull eyes, sallow complexion—he looked on the verge of collapse. Qianchun recognized him instantly: Night Frost’s nominal master.

“Sir, you—”

The old man waved weakly, signaling he was fine.

“Blade told me you needed tools here. She must’ve mentioned most useful items were already gone—leaving only burdensome or irrelevant ones. My cannon is among them.”

He stepped closer, fingertips gently tracing the cannon’s surface. His creation from two months ago, designed to breach the Abyssal Rift—a spatial artistry masterpiece.

“She sought me out because she guessed you’d come for my work. Most things here are useless.”

“The cannon’s purpose ties the shells’ Array Patterns to spatial laws. Toss them blindly into another dimension, and differing spatial pressures could nullify their power.”

A trace of regret flickered in his eyes. His spatial insight had forged shells capable of shattering space itself—and a cannon to launch them. Yet their weight left them abandoned.

“Battles shift unpredictably. No one carries this cannon into mobile fights. Only useful for defense—which is why it’s gathered dust.”

“But since you’ll use it… I can modify it.”

From his Spatial Box, he pulled materials. Auxiliary Array Patterns would boost the shells’ power and lighten their weight. Otherwise, the two girls couldn’t even haul one shell to the branch gate.

***

In the Twelfth District’s eastern new zone, the brief clash ended in stalemate. Lujin Lushi stood transformed—black-and-white wings spread—guarding the front line, eyes locked on Hrubess.

Qiu Sheng knelt, Mana nearly depleted, siphoning energy from her master’s Magic Tool.

The battlefield lay in ruins: lightning-scorched earth, feathery snow drifting from the sky, buildings frozen solid on both sides—Zhao Qingsnow’s doing, amplified by her tool.

The Old Woman remained buried underground, motionless, waiting for Hrubess to slip.

Hrubess wasn’t unscathed. Though unharmed, her foes were like cockroaches that refused to die—knocked down, yet rising again.

She despised such recklessness. Why throw lives away? She sought wisdom, not bloodstained hands. Thus, she held back high-tier Magic Spells.

Yet even restrained, they could only match her.

To win, they needed to breach her dozens of barriers. One was hard enough; dozens? Nearly impossible.

“We’ll give everything to create an opening!” Lujin and Lushi declared in unison. “When the chance comes—strike without hesitation!”

They spread their wings. After a breath, chaos reignited. A black feather, a white feather—razor wings pierced the first barrier. Only the first.

Hrubess wouldn’t stand idle. Head lifted, crimson flash in her left eye. A Magic Spell summoned spikes toward their wings. Lu Shi barely sidestepped—if wings broke, mobility vanished.

Their weakness exposed. Those eyes had pinpointed vulnerabilities since the start.

Hrubess frowned. Too bothersome. Time to end this. Palm raised.

“Blood embodies the Four Elements.”

Wind, fire, water, lightning swirled before her. Attribute-less Mana took form. Gale and flames hurled Qiu Sheng and Zhao Qingsnow aside; flood and thunderbolts forced Lujin Lushi back.

“The Magic Maiden path is flawed… With proper Mana control and Spells, I wield others’ power—turning the extraordinary mundane.”

Hrubess advanced, studying them. Her brow stayed furrowed. Their power wasn’t Spell-given. They were special.

“Let’s gamble, sister. Only by reaching her level can we break the barriers. This is our only chance.”

“You mean… chant the forbidden spell now? But we’re only Cantata Two. Past attempts failed.”

Lu Jin hesitated. They weren’t true Cantata Three. Too risky.

“But continuing like this… we’ll die. Look—Qiu Sheng exhausted her Mana blocking that Seeker. Zhao Qingsnow’s chill is faint; she can’t freeze that flood.”

“Our Mana is fading. She attacks while controlling the Four Elements. Soon, we’ll have nothing left.”

Sensing Lu Jin’s worry, Lu Shi spoke softly:

“Don’t fear for me… You’re here. Like always—we’ll survive.”

Lu Jin’s heart stilled. Orphans raised in this branch. Walking a tightrope since becoming Order Keepers. Now the Twelfth District faced ruin—what was there to hesitate about?

Her sister stood beside her. Nothing left to fear.

Silence fell. Their merging consciousnesses resonated as one:

“Lift restrictions! Magic Armor Overlap!”

The forbidden spell they’d begged from Moon Owl—the most widespread unsealing incantation among Cantata Three Magic Maidens. Rumored to carry a price.

Mana surged toward their wings. Darkness swallowed most of their forms. Just like testing: Lu Shi, closest to Cantata Three, resonated first.

At this rate, Lu Jin would fade into Lu Shi. And this was only the first line—their power weaker than before.

“No! Lu Jin, listen—*you* chant the next lines. When your Mana overtakes mine, I’ll follow your voice—”

Lightning struck above them. Mana destabilized. Disintegration loomed.

“Trying to unseal? Don’t overlook me.”

Hrubess’s taunt deepened their crisis.

Then—

A cataclysmic strike erupted from beneath the earth. The Old Woman’s full-power blow, gathered over thirty minutes. This strike would drain her completely.

She’d waited long enough. If she didn’t act now, Lujin Lushi would fall.

They were gifted. Given time, they could follow Moon Owl’s path—become the Twelfth District’s guardians.

And she? In her final days, she would finally follow in her late husband’s footsteps.