Qianchun felt genuinely pleased at Night Frost’s praise. Her words made perfect sense—it truly wasn’t the time for catching up. With two enemies glaring menacingly ahead, ignoring them would be unwise.
“The Key was taken by that Cantata Two group. My Key should be in your hands. You must be able to track where they went—they’re carrying the Key.”
Zhao Qingsnow and her companions nodded firmly. Mana reserves didn’t matter now. If those intruders used the Key to open the gate, the Twelfth District would face utter ruin.
Night Frost’s gaze settled on Illusory Glass, who held the fake Key crafted by Night Frost’s father. As long as this Key remained, finding the Twelfth District’s true Key was no longer a concern.
“I leave it to you.”
Night Frost paused, glancing at the Eye Orb in her palm. Its faint, repulsive scent made her grimace. She tossed it toward the other Eye Orb. “Analyze your ‘counterpart’ thoroughly.”
Her eyes then shifted to Aphrodite and the Zone Fifteen Guardian. Aphrodite’s face burned with fury—likely over Hrubess’s betrayal. The Guardian stood deep in thought.
She was torn. The entire Zone Fifteen was hostage to the white-robed figure—who wasn’t Blood. Yet the Twelfth District’s elite forces remained unscathed while her side had already lost two. A real fight meant death. If she died… would Zone Fifteen become that figure’s plaything? The thought sent chills down her spine.
Ultimately, both districts were thorns in others’ sides. Blood was already gone—eliminated by an unknown Magic Maiden. As a formerly neutral zone, Fifteen had no reason to crush Twelve. Taking lives weighed heavily. With Blood dead and Aphrodite dealt with, the white-robed figure might never learn what happened here. Cooperation could save her people.
“I wish to cooperate with you.”
Wind swirled around the Guardian’s fingers, forming silent musical notes beside Night Frost’s ear.
Night Frost froze. Moments ago, they were locked in brutal combat. Now one defected, another sought alliance? Utterly baffling.
“How can I trust you?” Night Frost’s voice sharpened. “You stand on Twelfth District soil—drenched in our people’s blood!”
Unfamiliar and wary, Night Frost wove Spirit Threads, speaking silently to the Guardian. Seeing her suspicion, the Guardian recounted her plight. Night Frost pieced it together: someone held Zone Fifteen hostage, demanding the Key and gate be opened. Only then would citizens be spared.
She understood the Guardian’s dilemma—but understanding wasn’t forgiveness. Hundreds, maybe thousands, had died in the underground shelter within minutes. Their lives were no less precious. And Night Frost doubted the mastermind would ever release Zone Fifteen. A Cantata Three like the Guardian was too valuable a threat to let go. Still… allying against Aphrodite to reclaim her zone? That, she could consider.
“I can no longer sense Blood. She’s likely fallen too,” Aphrodite murmured to the Guardian. Without Blood’s command, she hesitated—fight or flee? Two Cantata Threes should overpower one. Could Night Frost truly stand undefeated against both? Ridiculous. Thunder Slash, who’d dared face two alone moments ago, now lay discarded like a toothless hound.
Unaware Night Frost and the Guardian had already struck a silent pact—the Guardian poised for a righteous backstab—Aphrodite summoned a golden scale from the sky. Night Frost drew her spear from crimson flames, piercing the phantom effortlessly. Black Flame wings erupted from her back as she shot toward Aphrodite.
Aphrodite knew the scale wouldn’t suffice. Night Frost’s power rivaled Moon Owl’s. One-on-one? She might lose. She stole a wisp of Crimson Gold Flame. It resisted at first, but under her mana refinement, stilled—transmuted into an arrow.
Night Frost’s delicate brows lifted slightly. *Skilled… to reshape my flame into a Magic Tool-like form…* Wait. The image twisted strangely in her mind: the flame like a pure maiden trapped in Aphrodite’s grasp, subjected to brutal conditioning until molded to her will. The victim was Night Frost herself. She’d been NTR’d!!
As a pure love warrior, Night Frost’s blood boiled. She commanded the surrounding flames—only for the arrow-shaped flame to *respond*. A strange warmth bloomed in her chest. Though reshaped by Aphrodite, the flame’s loyalty remained unbroken. It still answered *her* call, ready to give itself wholly whenever she needed.
“…Why do I feel strangely moved?”
Aphrodite smirked, etching Array Patterns onto the arrow. Space itself bent into a bow. “Since you want it back… I’ll grant your wish.” She drew the string taut, aiming at Night Frost’s brow. The arrow trembled—its patience at its limit. Release it, and it would finally reach what it longed for.
*Twang.* The arrow flew. Night Frost raised a wall of flames. It melted gently into the fire, merging without resistance.
Wings flared. Spear thrust. Aphrodite slashed the air, weaving space into a shield—but Night Frost’s dragon-claw grip drove the Crimson Gold Lance straight through. Aphrodite recoiled, arms raised. Twin blood trails bloomed. Before she could transmute again, Night Frost swept horizontally. Golden threads sliced the air. Aphrodite barely dodged—the slash tore her sleeve, revealing snow-white skin etched with eerie patterns.
Night Frost’s eyes locked on the Magic Stone embedded in Aphrodite’s chest. “Covered in conduction Array Patterns… No personal Magic Stone. That replaceable monster’s Magic Stone grants your power. And your transmutation Magic Spell—bestowed by *that* eye, yes?”
Aphrodite stiffened. Seen through in seconds. She wasn’t a true Magic Maiden—just a counterfeit forged from a monster’s stone.
Truth was, Night Frost’s own bracelet stone was also a monster’s Magic Stone—taken from the Calamity Dragon. But hers bore inscribed Magic Spells. And never needed replacing. After bonding with her, it had mutated. Why? The Eye Orb theorized: Night Frost’s original stone influenced it; or the Calamity Dragon’s high rank combined with her possessing its heart; or perhaps dragon and stone-creator shared origin.
“Honestly… this stone is why I can use magic too,” Night Frost murmured.
“You too?” Aphrodite whispered.
In that stunned silence—the Guardian moved. Magic Armor dissolved. Darkness vanished. An invisible armor flared. With all her might, she swung the Wind King Barrier.
A sharp whistle cut the air. The invisible strike pierced Aphrodite’s chest. The Magic Stone shattered. Mana flow ceased instantly.
“You—”
Before the word finished, her Magic Armor flickered out. She plummeted into the rubble—impaled by twisted rebar and shattered concrete. Bones nearly pulverized. Only the strengthening Array Patterns on her skin kept her from becoming paste.
“Dam…n it…”
Clutching the divine eye consuming her socket, Aphrodite pleaded inwardly—for just enough power to kill them all.
