Shu Mingye stepped forward beside her. His fire erupted, spinning upward in fierce dragon shapes. Flames coiled around his limbs and shoulders, hotter and brighter than ever before. The heat rolled off him in suffocating waves.
Shen Zhenyu lowered his stance, his sword drawn, his gaze fixed on the masked man. His sword hummed faintly in his grip.
Even He Yuying, still holding onto Song Meiyu's arm, let out a long sigh. "Seriously," he muttered. "Can't we have one peaceful week?"
Linyue's eyes darted to Song Meiyu and He Yuying still lingering near the edge of the battlefield. They needed to get inside the wall. Her master had never stepped past the wall's threshold. Not once in thirteen years. Not since that burning night in the imperial palace when he had pulled her out of the flames. If they could just get past the gate… maybe they would be safe.
She spun toward Shen Zhenyu, her voice sharp and urgent. "Tell Prince Lu to lead the soldiers back inside. Now."
But Shen Zhenyu didn't answer. The sky did.
CRACK.
Lightning split the heavens open with a deafening roar. A storm's worth of bolts poured down in an instant, hammering the ground in wild, furious streaks.
Soldiers screamed. Some were blasted off their feet, landing hard in the dirt with their weapons spinning away. Others dropped where they stood, bodies twitching from the violent shock. The smell of scorched armor filled the air. There was no aim. No target. Just raw, unrestrained power tearing through everything. It felt like the masked man had grown tired of watching and decided to let the sky burn.
Dust surged into choking waves, curling around them. Through the swirling dust and chaos, Prince Lu came sprinting. His embroidered robe flapped wildly behind him, half torn and very dramatic. He still gripped his sword, though his hands trembled slightly.
He skidded to a stop near Linyue and Shu Mingye, panting hard. "What is happening? Who is that person?" he demanded, eyes wide as they locked onto the masked man standing calmly in the wreckage.
Linyue's gaze never left the figure. "Someone dangerous."
Prince Lu stared a second longer, then squared his shoulders, lifting his sword with far too much bravado and far too little sense. "Then we'll fight him together—"
"No," Linyue cut in, her voice sharp. "We can't fight him. We're not strong enough. We'll only buy time. Long enough for everyone else to get inside the walls."
Prince Lu's face twisted in frustration, but he didn't argue.
The masked man didn't give them the luxury of finishing their emergency strategy session.
CRACK.
Another bolt of lightning came screaming down from the heavens. It slammed into the ground between them with a deafening boom. The earth split. The impact sent dirt and flame blasting skyward in a chaotic shower.
They all leapt back at once, forced apart like startled birds.
Linyue hit the ground hard, knees bending to absorb the impact. Her sword was already up, crackling faintly as she braced for the next attack. Before she could even breathe, Shu Mingye stepped in front of her. He moved fast. His spiritual energy flared outward in a burning arc. Flames danced and roared, creating a shield of heat and light that swallowed stray sparks and shards of energy.
Ahead of them, the masked man did not move. He did not even seem to notice the battlefield screaming around him. Lightning danced lazily across his shoulders, coiling and snapping. It gathered again, thicker and brighter. Another strike was coming. There was no time. No time to plan. No time to hesitate. If they could not run, then they would fight.
Linyue's breath stayed steady even as her heart pounded like a drum. She pushed her spiritual energy downward, forcing it through her legs and into the earth. Sparks of blue lightning crawled over her boots and cracked across the dirt under her feet. The moment her energy locked in place, she launched forward. She became a blur of white and blue. The wind snapped around her as her body shot into the air, light as mist, fast as thunder.
While still airborne, she raised one hand. Lightning answered her call. Thin, sharp threads curled and twisted, forming hundreds of glowing needles that hovered around her. Her eyes locked onto the masked man. With a firm sweep of her arm, she sent the needles flying. They streaked through the battlefield in a dazzling storm of blue light, fast and deadly, cutting through dust and wind.
The masked man only tilted his head. He lifted his hand lazily and swept his arm sideways. A pulse rippled out from him. A shockwave of pure spiritual energy so dense the air seemed to bend. It was invisible but crushing. The moment it touched the lightning needles—
CRACK.
Each needle fizzled out. Sparks sputtered weakly before vanishing into the air. Gone. Just like that.
Linyue hadn't expected it to work. The needles weren't meant to strike him. They were meant to distract him. Because the real strike… was her. She was already in motion. While the masked man's energy rippled from breaking her attack, she had dashed forward. Her body zigzagged through the battlefield with blinding speed. Demons scattered. Dirt sprayed. Streaks of blue lightning trailed behind her every step, snapping and hissing.
She pushed harder. More energy surged into her legs. Her steps hit the ground sharper and faster. The distance between her and the masked man shrank rapidly. She knew she could not win a long-range fight. His spiritual power overwhelmed the entire field. She only needed one chance. One strike.
As she moved, she drew her spiritual sense outward. Threads of awareness stretched invisibly in all directions. She no longer relied on her eyes. She felt. The tension in the air. The crackle of unstable lightning. The faint twitch of his fingers. The shift in his stance. Every ripple of spiritual energy mapped itself into her mind.
Shu Mingye was already behind her. His fire burned brighter, ready to cover her, to shield her from any counter.
Linyue narrowed her eyes. Her own lightning spiraled down her sword in coiling bands of blue. It hummed with her pulse. The masked man's energy surged. More pale blue lightning bloomed in the air around him, crackling louder now, sharper, ready to strike.
She braced herself. Muscles tensed. Breath steady. But then the lightning changed. It did not come straight at her. It curved midair like a whip pulled off course. Instead of meeting her head-on, it arced sideways, twisting unpredictably. The energy grew wild and erratic as if it had chosen a new target.
Her heart skipped. The lightning was not coming for her. Not for Shu Mingye either.
It was heading straight for the others. Her chaos family. They were still near the gate helping push the soldiers back inside. Shen Zhenyu stood at the front, calm and sharp as always, sword flashing as he directed the retreat. Song Meiyu was waving her arms like a windmill, yelling at anyone who dared slow down. He Yuying was dragging an injured soldier with one hand and grumbling loudly about his boots soaking up demon blood. Prince Lu was somewhere in the chaos, clutching his sword with trembling hands, his face pale and his robe covered in dust and random feathers for some reason. They didn't see it coming.
"No—!"
Linyue spun on her heel. Her body surged with lightning as she tried to leap back, to warn them, but it was already too late.
CRACK—CRACK—CRACK.
The air ripped apart. Pale blue light ripped across the field, splitting in too many directions. Soldiers screamed as bolts slammed into them mid-run. Some crumpled where they stood. Others were thrown into the dirt, twitching.
Song Meiyu yelped as the lightning caught her side, sending her flying backward with a startled squeak. He Yuying let out a sharp grunt of pure irritation mid-air before slamming to the ground. Shen Zhenyu staggered, his knees bending under the force, his sword bracing him against the next strike. He didn't fall, but his hands were shaking now. Sweat dripped down his brow. Prince Lu let out an impressive shriek, got zapped straight in the rear, and collapsed backward with his legs sticking stiffly in the air like an overturned beetle.
Linyue skidded to a stop. Her chest tightened painfully. Her fingers curled tight around her sword.