Cold Night Feather watched thoughtfully. Bai Xin’s energy had drained like a deflated balloon after just one skill. Soon, her Golden Pupils and shimmering golden hair returned to normal. The magnificent gown dissolved into energy, revealing her torn hoodie. The now-normal Bai Xin collapsed onto the ground. Cold Night Feather couldn’t help but smile wryly—Bai Xin was fast asleep. The Mystic Necklace hung around her neck, looking wilted, its glow dimmed.

Though Bai Xin had inexplicably regained her past power briefly with the necklace’s help—matching the golden-haired girl Cold Night Feather once knew—her strength hadn’t truly increased. She’d exhausted herself, borrowing ambient energy to barely pull off that attack. After it, she had no fight left.

To Cold Night Feather, Bai Xin’s post-transformation power wasn’t impressive. But that ancient aura, older than time itself, and the energy quality surpassing even her own glimpses of godhood—that’s what caught her eye.

None of it mattered now. Bai Xin’s past was irrelevant. Cold Night Feather only knew they were close. She glanced up at An in mid-air, his swirling darkness aimed at Bai Xin.

“I’ve watched long enough,” Cold Night Feather said, stepping from behind the billboard. Her tone was detached, dismissive of the chaos. Of course—she was Cold Night Feather, Freya Continent’s strongest genius.

“Tch! So many complications!” An roared, staff raised to suppress White Feather. He glared at the shattered Seal Barrier drifting in the air. But spotting Bai Xin on the ground, he cackled sinisterly. “Hehehehe! Perfect. The credit’s all mine now!” Imagining his promotion, he slashed out a massive gray energy blade.

Bai Xin lay on cracked earth, spiderweb fractures and deep gashes everywhere. Yet she slept soundly, even scratching her belly instinctively. Above, the death-charged blade flew toward her. White Feather knew she’d be sliced and blown apart. It strained to save her but couldn’t move under the staff’s hold.

(Is it over?) White Feather’s golden eyes dimmed as the blade neared Bai Xin. (After all this struggle… is a bad end unavoidable? Is this… the Heavenly Mandate?)

The howling wind and An’s laughter wove a twisted ballad. Moonlight bathed the pure, beautiful girl—about to be devoured. Trees and grass swayed like cheering demons, awaiting her death.

Space before Bai Xin twisted. A stunning white-haired girl appeared. Moonlight made her jade-like skin glow faintly. She stood like a cold moon goddess. Her rosy lips parted, voice icy: “Who gave you permission to touch my person?”

Time froze as her aura surged. The gale died. Elements halted mid-air. An’s laughter choked off. The gray blade froze like a paused film. Elements trembled; trees bowed. All creation worshipped the sovereign emperor—and she was that dreamlike girl.

The human and wolf’s emotions flipped. An panicked: “This! Impossible! Who are you? When did you arrive?” Her terrifying aura wasn’t the only shock. Humans commanded elements through equivalent energy bargains—not like her. Elements bowed to her mere presence, ready to unleash fury at her word.

White Feather, once despairing, now thrilled. Its giant tail spun like a propeller. The gray wolf shouted joyfully: “Ah! Your Excellency—you’re finally here?!”

Cold Night Feather lowered her eyelids. The energy blade vanished. An tried to flee but froze, gripped by her tangible aura. He watched helplessly as she raised a slender finger. Destructive energy gathered there. He knew it’d reduce him to ash.

But she sighed softly. The energy dissipated. Expressionless, she told An: “Scram. Tell your master: stop targeting White Feather. Or I’ll bury your entire organization.”

An regained control instantly. He bowed and nodded frantically—but inwardly schemed. Report to headquarters. Send real high-ups to punish this beauty. Maybe his master would covet her looks… and reward him.

Cold Night Feather waved dismissively, like shooing a fly. An bolted—but she called him back.

“M-m-master?” An stammered, no longer arrogant, now meek as a bullied child. (Is she reneging?)

She said nothing. Took his staff. Crushed it to dust. With disgust, she pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her hands meticulously, as if touching filth.

Silent, An bowed again and fled like a monster chased him.

Cold Night Feather tucked away the handkerchief. Her gaze flickered, tracking An until he shrank to a distant black dot.