"Lightning, heed my command! Become my weapon—cleave fiends and demons asunder!"

As the incantation ended, particles of light coalesced in Nangong Shiyu’s palm. First forming a hilt, then stretching slowly toward a blade tip, they sketched the weapon’s silhouette. When the shape solidified, the glowing particles dissipated, revealing the sword’s true form.

A broad-bladed greatsword, roughly one and a half meters long, gleamed like a mirror under the harsh sun. Its two-centimeter-wide blade reflected blinding light. A deep purple orb—crystalline and fathomless—was embedded in the guard. The spiraling patterns along the hilt looked like artisanal carvings, radiating innate nobility.

Nangong Shiyu had named this blade—Thor.

Visible lightning erupted from the purple orb, surging across the greatsword. It coiled around the metal, radiating overwhelming power and arrogance.

The moment Thor materialized, murderous intent slammed into Nangong Shiyu’s face. Spotting the enemy’s movement, he barely raised his sword in defense.

A bull-like impact crashed against Thor, hurling Nangong Shiyu backward over twenty meters. The collision nearly shattered his aerial balance. He flapped his wings desperately to stabilize—only for a second strike, then a third, to hammer him without mercy. Defense was all he could manage. Each parry sent him skidding farther back, breath ragged.

Between clashes, Nangong Shiyu glimpsed the Silverhaired Maiden’s expression. Her eyes promised to tear him apart. Her face twisted in fury, hatred laid bare.

*That child… he’s… gone…*

Her whisper cut through the chaos.

He understood.

He knew what he’d done.

He never meant to harm innocents—but in this storm of battle, what choice did he have?

"I didn’t mean to hurt him," Nangong Shiyu gasped. "It was an accident!"

"You should’ve… noticed… from the start…" Her attacks intensified—faster, fiercer. Strikes came from every angle, crushing his defenses. One misstep, and her scythe would end him.

Sparks flew with every clash between demon and human. Though outmatched, their wills clashed equally—neither yielding an inch.

One fought for justice for the fallen.

The other fought to escape Death’s scythe.

"Shiyu." Xia Zixin’s voice cut through the din. "I’ve got a way to beat this Fiend."

"What is it?" Nangong Shiyu panted.

"When I give the signal, unleash a full-power, straight-line strike. Nothing held back."

"All-or-nothing…"

"Exactly." Xia Zixin’s tone sharpened. "One chance. Only one."

She planned to replicate the move that defeated the Fiend the first time.

Hit true—victory.

Miss—annihilation.

"Understood. Signal me when ready." Nangong Shiyu nodded.

He trusted Xia Zixin.

No distractions. Just listen for her command while defending.

Leave the rest to her.

Every parry was a heartbeat from death. Every dodge, a brush with oblivion. He stilled his mind, channeling every ounce of magic into Thor’s core orb—waiting.

Time crawled. Each second stretched into hours.

He waited.

Waited.

Waited…

"*Now!*"

Xia Zixin’s shout triggered him. Nangong Shiyu hefted Thor—

"*RAAAAH!*"

—and hurled the greatsword like a javelin.

Unleashed, the Demonic Orb’s stored lightning exploded. Thor blazed toward the Silverhaired Maiden—a single touch would shatter her defenses.

But…

He expected her to dodge.

Instead, she stood firm. Took the hit head-on.

Lightning-split darkness as Thor tore through her black aura. The blade carved deep into her scythe’s shaft, then plunged into her abdomen. The guard jammed against her ribs, dragging her backward dozens of meters before stopping.

As the magic faded, Thor dissolved into sparks. Only a charred wound remained on the Maiden’s stomach—seared black by lightning, bleeding not a drop. Blood trickled from her lips. Her face darkened as she landed, wings retracting. She leaned heavily on her scythe, gasping, whispering:

"*The Demonic Orb’s assimilation… too fast…*"

Nangong Shiyu’s magic drained instantly. His lightning wings vanished. He plummeted—

—only to be caught mid-fall. Xia Zixin cradled him princess-style, descending gently.

"Xia Zixin…" Nangong Shiyu’s voice came out soft, melodic. He’d grown used to this new pitch.

"What’s up, little sister Shiyu?"

"You timed my attack… because that bus was passing behind her, right?"

He hadn’t noticed mid-strike—but after the hit, he’d glimpsed the bus that’d blocked her escape. Xia Zixin must’ve gambled on the Fiend’s twisted honor: *She’d never dodge if innocents were at risk.*

A demon mourning a stranger. As baffling as her white wings.

"Yep." Xia Zixin nodded. "A gamble. Glad she took the hit."

"Doesn’t that make us the villains?" Nangong Shiyu chuckled weakly.

"Had to win, didn’t we?"

"...Guess so."

They landed and rushed to the Fiend’s crash site—ready to finish her.

But she’d already vanished without a trace.