Spring Tide’s warning came a heartbeat late; the instant the black-robed figure was blasted away, Silver Luan snapped to like a drawn bow.

One hand closed on Cerqin, the other on Aileaf, and she surged for the upward stair in a gust of power.

But in a blink, every sigil in the basement flared, thick mana flooding the room like a rising tide.

The crystal orb at the core poured dense white light, calling and answering the room’s sigils like stars signaling across a night sky.

As the marks lit, Spring Tide and Silver Luan—arms full—felt their bodies seized, the altar’s orb tugging the mana from their cores like an undertow hauling at ankles.

“Ah, I’d so love to say forging four weapons at once is wonderful, but sadly I prepped only one fusion crystal~ Cough. Heavy hand, huh? This avatar’s already useless… Well then, good luck~”

Wisps of black vapor bled from the robe as they spoke. The half face peeking from the hood slumped and melted, the body collapsing like a punctured wineskin, until only the robe lay on the floor like shed skin.

“Now we’re in trouble…”

Panic rose first as the pull intensified and her mana bled faster; then Spring Tide forced herself to think of a way to cut the net.

Silver Luan, holding Cerqin, was better off; because of Cerqin, her spent mana refilled fast, so her state outpaced Spring Tide’s by far.

“Um, could you let me go first…”

Silver Luan shot her a look that said, Are you serious, like a knife’s glint in shade.

The orb’s tearing pull had grown strong enough to trouble a Sixth Rank. If she let go now, the weakest of the four—Cerqin—would be the first ripped away.

“I think it’ll be fine.”

Uncertainty trembled on her tongue, but excitement lit Cerqin’s eyes; it wasn’t thought, it was instinct breaking its leash.

To her, the thick power in the room wasn’t just natural mana; it was laced with a heady force of fear, emotion pooled like oil.

Most of that fear streamed into the central orb, yet as the flow brushed her like cold rain, Cerqin felt threads divert into her, drawn and drunk.

What she took in rushed to blend with the vast knot born from her curse, like rivers ramming a swollen lake.

Spring Tide and the other two were the reverse; that same fear, with their mana, was being yanked out of them, strand by strand.

Above Eastwind City, a colossal cloud-vortex unfurled, mana streaming into its eye like birds into a storm. Across the city, people clutched their heads in pain, eyes glazing like frost, then toppled.

The once-chaotic Eastwind fell into a silence as deep as snow.

“Feels... so good.”

Cerqin said it almost idly, excitement deepening on her face like dawn thickening to day.

“What’s wrong with you, Cerqin!”

Worry spiked first in Silver Luan’s voice; the aura spilling off the girl in her arms rang familiar in her bones.

It was that same runaway surge she’d lived through before—power slipping its reins.

“Not good!”

Mana swelled inside her in a rush, and Silver Luan blanked for a heartbeat. Cerqin tore free and shot toward the orb, sucked in like a leaf caught by a whirlpool.

“Cerqin!”—three voices at once.

Three anxious cries rang out. But the instant Cerqin touched the orb, the dense mana vortex slackened, like a storm losing wind.

The abnormal weight pinning their bodies vanished. The vortex paused a second, then turned again, but without that oppressive mass the tearing pressure couldn’t threaten them anymore.

Even with mana still being dragged out, they could leave whenever they wished.

Meanwhile, in the wilds beyond Eastwind’s fields, two globes of light—one azure, one black—wove around each other like twin comets.

Each clash sent mana ripples rolling like waves. The probing ended quick; both fell back to a safe span and showed the faces beneath the glow.

The black-robed one’s rasp carried a hint of regret.

“Looks like you still came a touch late~”

“You think a mere avatar can stop me?”

Beneath Ming Xi’s lazy look, a fleck of scorn showed. She stayed placid, the words sliding off like rain from eaves.

“I doubt even my real body could bar you, Archbishop. But a mere avatar can still buy time~”

That androgynous rasp chuckled dryly.

“By the count, it should be done. Your little disciple will be the cornerstone of a new world. As her teacher, shouldn’t you be pleased~”

“Heh…”

Calm settled first; the taunt failed to bite. When the escort returned and reported in, Archbishop Mingxi finally had a free breath—and felt a bad wind rising.

Worse, she learned the Holy Maiden Spring Tide had received her warning, grabbed a denunciation letter, and was spurring for Eastwind City.

Ming Xi hadn’t seen that letter. Then the Law Enforcement Hall reported several knights and a Divine Officer missing outside the city. She threw a quick divination with her power and, still uneasy, rushed over.

“Never thought you lot would reach your hands into the Sanctuary. Bold.”

By the end, a sliver of anger bled into her tone like ink in water.

“Do your best not to let me catch your real body…”

“You—”

They hesitated, doubt stirring. She hadn’t masked her aura when she came, as if she’d meant to lure them out from the start.

“You’re wondering why I’m not worried about my beloved disciple, aren’t you~”

“…”

“Seems you only joined Ultimate Evil recently. If you were an elder, there’s no way you wouldn’t know my ability~”

Ming Xi’s power, “Fate’s Prisoner,” peers into slivers of the future. The reach is limited, but for confirming outcomes it’s close to cheating.

Sensing something off, Ming Xi read Spring Tide’s lines at once and saw, roughly, that she wouldn’t die in this incident.

But the futures she glimpsed split wide, their differences stark enough to snag her mind.

“Seems coming straight for you was right. Luck walked me to the best line.”

She dipped into the power again and nodded, satisfied. The aim—to pin the other down—was met. An enemy who could shuffle power among avatars was too thorny to leave be.

With that done, there was no reason to hold back.

“Then let’s hope next time it’s your real body standing in front of me…”

…

Back in the core chamber, the three—worry stark on their faces—moved to check on Cerqin, the one pulled in.

They stopped cold at the sight before them, the strangeness beading on skin like sudden frost.

“So... good~”

Cerqin clung to the crystal orb, her state wildly abnormal—eyes hazy, body trembling—like someone drowning in a wave of bliss.

Yet what poured off her was fear—emotion gathering and thickening, its shadow outshining mana like eclipse.

Even an ordinary person could see the thick Negative Energy pooling there.

Fear from all Eastwind, enough to crush a million lives, kept streaming into the orb. The mana whirl turned into a vortex of raw emotion.

“What is happening…”

Spring Tide felt the fear-curse on her soul pulled clean with the mana; even the curse itself was gone, like frost under sun.

“Looks like a power runaway… and a miracle snatching a life back.”

“But why…”

Aileaf had hoped for a miracle from the start, yet the researcher in her voiced the doubt.

“Not sure… Little Cerqin’s mental state is clearly off.”

“Probably ties to the essence of this Love God ability~”

A lazy voice cut in, and Ming Xi appeared at the doorway like a ghost slipping through paper.

“Archbishop?!”

“Can’t you just call me big sis?”