She intended to move.

Watching three subordinates chase Letitia and Moyel into the shadowy alley.

On the bar’s second floor, Ye Wangxue drew her sword. Cold moonlight shimmered from the slender, elegant blade, slowly illuminating her eyes hidden beneath the veil. This sword was named—Moonward.

A gift from her father, the Great Xia emperor, on her fifteenth birthday—the day of her coming-of-age ceremony.

She had been genuinely happy then. As the youngest daughter of the Great Xia emperor, she was long seen by courtiers as his most cherished child.

Gifts poured in since childhood; the emperor spent more time with her than any other.

In the Xia Kingdom’s imperial palace, speculation about Princess Ye Wangxue’s future husband never ceased.

Which noble heir? Which top imperial examination candidate would become the royal son-in-law?

No consensus existed—but all agreed: the Seventh Princess’s spouse must be extraordinary.

Yet that same coming-of-age year brought a second gift: a mysterious marriage contract.

At first, Ye Wangxue held no strong objection.

Surely her father chose wisely. And at fifteen, she was considered an adult in the East.

Then came the truth: she was to wed into the Western Continent—a duke’s son.

Still acceptable. In Xia, a Western duke ranked near their highest aristocratic clans.

A princess marrying a distinguished heir? Reasonable.

But why *him*?

Why Hale—a man rumored to court woman after woman daily?

She knew Western customs were open; hand-kissing, embraces were commonplace greetings.

But she could not accept it.

Could not accept a fiancé both incompetent and vulgar.

She hated this second birthday gift. Hated the contract.

Protests, fasting for seven days—nothing moved her father. He never visited.

From that moment, Ye Wangxue understood: words were useless.

She became a disciple of the Thousand Blade Sword Ghost—a legendary Great Xia swordsman, imprisoned thirty years for his violent crimes.

Her father said nothing.

Then she knew.

Her fate now rested on this sword… and this contract.

She was of age. If she would not submit, she would cut her own path.

Today, she would capture Letitia—and eliminate the man blocking her way.

…

Hale saw the three elite swordsmen pursue Letitia and Moyel.

But they were merely level-one game NPCs. Moyel and Letitia could handle them.

His real concern: Ye Wangxue and the two level-six elites.

He dragged a stool to the bar’s ground-floor entrance—the only access point to the underground passage—and sat.

From here, he could count pursuers.

A crash of shattering glass snapped his attention upward.

A black-clad girl leaped down. Her sword glowed with cold lunar radiance—striking as her silhouette.

Ye Wangxue?

Her real form held softer curves than her in-game sprite. Long, straight black hair flowed down her back.

Eyes behind the veil locked onto him.

“Who are you?”

“You need not know.”

Eastern Continent custom demanded names before combat.

But Hale refused. He’d avoid entanglement with the game’s heroine. After this, unless the Xia Kingdom route triggered, they’d never meet again.

Yet she’d later visit the Papal Dominion to see her mysterious fiancé… and after Letitia and Christine’s earlier approach, he couldn’t risk her tracking him post-elopement.

“Then… are you a retainer of House Childe, sworn to protect Letitia?”

Ye Wangxue studied him. Refined features. Impeccable attire. A man to her taste.

Staying alone here meant he’d accepted death for their sake.

Such resolve deserved respect.

“No.”

Hale’s flat denial irked her. *Stalling.*

“Hmph. Then our paths diverge. Today, I take your life!”

She swung Moonward forward—a flash of moonlight.

Hale blocked on instinct.

Steel clashed. Frosty light stung his arms.

Skill-wise, he felt evenly matched. His technique felt innate, carved into muscle and bone.

But his weapon lagged.

Moonward was Ye Wangxue’s signature blade—a legendary ancient-orange weapon from route start.

Absurd attack speed. Numerically overpowered. Passive [Moonbind] slowed foes; at level seventy, an active effect unlocked after trial.

In routes where heroines began weaponless, legendary gear rarely surfaced before late game.

Ye Wangxue couldn’t yet wield Moonward’s full power… but Hale’s beginner-grade blade versus this endgame masterpiece? Hopeless.

“Hmph!”

Pressing her advantage, Ye Wangxue lunged—a wide, cornering slash.

*Clatter.*

Something tumbled from her chest.

An ancient melody swelled, filling the narrow alley.

*Mandala’s Musical Casket.*

That split-second distraction gave Hale breathing room.

Then—a chill.

Hale moved. Unnaturally fast. As if power surged through him.

*Bang!*

One strike.

Pitch-black steel.

In a twisted stance, he drove force squarely onto Moonward’s hilt. The sword vibrated violently—then flew from her grasp.

*What technique?!*

Impossible. A style designed solely to shatter weapons?

Before thought formed—

Cold steel kissed her throat. Only then did she see: Azure Knightblade, famed for durability, now cracked from that single blow.

Silent, the black-clad youth held her gaze. *Don’t move.*

He bent, retrieved the still-playing Musical Casket.

A flicker of recognition.

He’d seen this before.