“So why would such a dangerous figure head for the Royal Capital… Spring Tide, you said it ties to the recent protest there, right?” Silver Luan asked, brows drawing like a storm front.

After learning Ming Duo’s peculiar abilities, they all marked her as dangerous, like a red seal on a dossier. The intel that she’d appear in the Royal Capital came from the Law Enforcement Hall tracking her traces like ash blown on the wind.

Its accuracy was debatable, truth flickering like a lantern in mist. Yet Spring Tide’s confidence burned steady, unlike her usual Holy Maiden calm, and their doubts buzzed like bees in a jar.

“I’ve heard of that protest,” Aileaf said, voice slow, like a thread pulled taut. “But why link the two? And why would Ming Duo betray the Sanctuary?”

“And another thing. If the Sanctuary’s Law Enforcement Hall hasn’t caught her for years, what makes us think we can?” Her words fell like pebbles into deep water.

Once the East District Sanctuary’s brightest prodigy and the Holy Maiden’s senior, Ming Duo had risen like a cliffside pine into the ranks of high-tier practitioners.

She was one of the few true powerhouses in this world, few as stars before dawn.

The gap from Sixth to Seventh Rank was cloud to clay. Even with four Sixth Ranks and a string of Fifth Ranks in the Holy Maiden’s procession, they couldn’t subdue a Seventh.

Holding for even the time a stick of incense burns would be hard.

“If it were another high-tier, yes. But with Ming Duo, once I get close enough, I have a way to bring her down,” Spring Tide said, her voice like hammered iron.

“Before she defected, my master planted a curse on her. With a Sanctuary badge at Divine Officer level or higher, the curse triggers.” Her eyes glinted. “It makes openings bloom like cracks in ice. After Eastwind City, my master gave me a tool meant to counter and restrain a Seventh Rank. I’m confident I can take her when we meet.”

Cerqin savored the confidence rolling off Spring Tide like warm sunlight on lacquer, and Spring Tide went on.

“As for why she betrayed the Sanctuary, I don’t really know. My master said she simply fell—sudden, like a cliff giving way—without any special reason…”

The topic dragged Spring Tide’s mood down like rain over embers. It was rare; for a heartbeat, Cerqin found this usually tyrannical, chaotic Holy Maiden almost endearing.

“If it were that simple, the Law Enforcement Hall wouldn’t have failed for years,” Silver Luan said, brows knotting like rope. Spring Tide shot her a side-eye, sharp as a flicked blade.

“What the Hall’s knights and Divine Officers can’t do doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“Fine…” Silver Luan knew Spring Tide’s strength. In a straight clash she couldn’t match a high-tier, but she could circle and stall like a fox dodging a hound.

If the curse worked and that Seventh-subduing item didn’t fail, capturing Ming Duo felt within reach, like netting a tiger with a chain.

Her confidence wasn’t unfounded; it settled in their bellies like a stone.

Silence held for a few beats, thick as fog. Cerqin finally spoke, slicing the awkward air.

“So what’s that protest in the Royal Capital, really… and why is Ming Duo tied to it?”

“Well…” Spring Tide’s voice dipped. “A protest march to stop discrimination against the plain-looking.”

No matter how you said it, it sounded strange, odd as snow in summer. Cerqin had never heard of the plain-faced being discriminated against.

Because everyone was a practitioner, this world held few truly ugly faces; at most, races disagreed on what beauty meant, like different flowers favored in different gardens.

In a world where steel ruled over silk, the beautiful rarely targeted the average. Open bias seemed unlikely.

The last time Cerqin heard that word was when nobles bullied commoners, whip and coin flashing in alley shadows.

Nobles scorning peasants—fine, that fit the old script. But a protest against looks-based bias, in the Royal Capital? It felt unreal, like a fish taking flight.

“‘Stop discriminating against the plain-faced.’ It began as a quarrel between two great noble houses, then swelled into a mass protest like a spring flood. When I got the reports, I was shocked, but it’s fact.”

“Could a cult be stirring this?” Silver Luan asked, voice low, like rustle in tall grass.

“It does sound like their kind of agitation. But to pull it in Holy Dragon City, under the royal gaze, is fire under the palace eaves—bold to the point of madness.”

“In any case, the rumors have been spreading everywhere.” Silver Luan nodded like a reed in wind; she’d heard similar whispers.

It grew so big that word flew and rumors bred for over a month, seeds on the breeze. This protest is already the second wave.

“I heard the first march drew crowds, but no major chaos. The Emperor sent the imperial guard, a ring of steel, to keep order.”

“They didn’t crush it with force?” Aileaf asked, wonder flitting across her small face like a startled bird. A protest this odd—who would believe no cult at work? To let it run under their noses, royals and nobles holding their temper, was strange as a quiet thunderhead.

Spring Tide shook her head. In her clear eyes, thought flashed like blade-light.

“It is strange. I expect Ming Duo to appear in the Royal Capital and be tied to this protest because she has an unusual hunger for beauty—moth to flame.”

In Spring Tide’s memory, Ming Duo’s looks were merely average. Her craving for beauty was an obsession, laced with jealousy and nameless hate, thorns hidden under silk.

As a child, Spring Tide only sensed it like fog at dawn. Only recently had she named those emotions clearly.

“Feels troublesome. I hope we don’t get another mess…” Cerqin muttered. She had little to say on such matters. Curious about that abstract protest, sure; but a Fifth Rank mid-tier like her couldn’t steer something this tangled, roots crossing under the earth.

“Pretty sure I said the same on the way to Northfort…” she grumbled. The other three stared. Panic fluttered in her chest like a trapped bird, and she hurried to backpedal.

“It’s the Royal Capital, after all—the city of royals and great houses. Big disasters shouldn’t happen there… right?”

The trio’s silence was deafening, a lid clamped over the room. Cerqin felt jinxed and quickly changed the subject.

“I’ve never been to the Royal Capital. What’s fun in Holy Dragon City?”

“Fun places…” Of the four, only the Holy Maiden Spring Tide had been to Holy Dragon City, so she had the right to speak. But before meeting Cerqin, she was cool as winter on the surface.

She traveled city to city for business, rarely for play, footsteps like ink strokes. Since becoming Holy Maiden, only a few outings with Archbishop Mingxi came to mind.

So when she tried to think of fun in Holy Dragon City, she was groping in the dark, hands searching in a moonless night.