"When Heaven is silent, only blades decide fate."
The capital of Asterion breathed with unease.
Only two days remained before the greatest banquet in decades the banquet that would shake the very pillars of the kingdom.
Whispers filled the city like restless ghosts. Every noble, every sect disciple, every faction heir spoke of the event with a mix of anticipation and dread. Alliances would be formed. Enemies would clash in whispers. And power… power would shift hands.
But while the kingdom waited for a storm they could not name, one person already knew that storm by heart.
Crystal.
The woman who had died once.
The woman who had walked the blood moon world.
The woman reborn in a 15-year-old body.
She had already lived the banquet once.
She had already died because of it.
And this time, she would not be a victim.
This time, she was the blade.
Later that day Inside the Aserra Mansion.
Crystal's Training Room
Sweat dripped to the polished black floor in slow, rhythmic taps.
Tap… tap… tap…
The air trembled with heat.
The scent of steel, sweat, and burning focus filled the enclosed chamber.
A sharp whoosh cut through the air as Crystal's blade moved not with elegance, but with cold precision. Her foot touched the ground only once, then lifted again as she balanced on the ball of her left foot, body swaying like a serpent ready to strike.
Her green eyes were unfocused yet deadly, lost yet aware of everything.
Every breath she exhaled made the room itself feel tighter.
Despite having no chaos energy flowing through her body, chaos still clung around her faint, shimmering, unnatural. It was impossible. It should not exist.
But then again, nothing about Crystal followed the rules.
She moved suddenly a thrust so fast it cracked the air, followed immediately by a downward slash that cut through the practice dummy like slicing through hot butter.
The straw dummy split cleanly in half, the top portion sliding off the bottom with a soft thump.
Crystal breathed out slowly.
Her hands didn't tremble.
Her stance remained firm.
But her eyes… her eyes were cold.
Exactly like they were the day she died.
"…My lady."
Mari stepped forward timidly, offering a towel. She had long grown used to the strange aura around her young mistress, but today… today Crystal felt different.
Darker.
Sharper.
Less human.
Crystal wiped her face, hair sticking to her forehead slightly.
"Get my bath ready," she said quietly.
Her voice held no emotion, but Mari still shuddered. "Y-Yes, my lady."
Crystal walked out of the training room without looking back without acknowledging the destroyed dummy or the scorching air she left behind.
She had plans to finish tonight.
And she had very little time left. After that crystal went to take her bath.
Warm water soaked her skin, the faint scent of spirit herbs drifting around her.
Candles flickered along the wooden edges of the bath, casting soft golden light across her face.
Crystal leaned back, letting the water rise over her shoulders.
For the first time in days… she allowed herself to close her eyes.
And then—
A memory.
A voice.
A glimpse of a woman smiling gently as he stirred a pot of herbal tea.
Her master.
She had been ten years old when she took her in.
Thirteen when she died.
And now, at fifteen again… she was still gone.
"Master…" she whispered under her breath.
The pain wasn't sharp.
It was heavy.
Like a stone pressed slowly into her heart.
Then another memory came her master's voice explaining a technique, one she'd nearly forgotten.
Chaos Steer.
A technique that didn't build a Chaos World.
A technique that didn't rely on meridians, dantian, or chaos cultivation at all.
Instead it drew chaos from the environment and infused it directly into the body.
Primitive.
Brutal.
Damaging.
But effective.
And for a girl with sealed meridians, poisoned pathways, and almost no time left… it was the only hope.
Crystal's eyes opened again, their green glow sharper.
She whispered to herself:
"I'll use the Chaos Steer… just enough.
Not to cultivate, but to recruit."
Because there was one person in the kingdom who would do anything for the chance to cultivate.
One woman with no chaos energy.
One woman Crystal desperately needed for her plan.
Lyra Valen.
Crystal smiled in the bath a crooked, devilish smile.
Mari, preparing clothes nearby, felt her heart stop.
This wasn't the smile of a noble daughter.
This was the smile of the woman who earned the title:
The General of Death. In her last life.
***
Meanwhile Silver Sky Sect – Nightfall
Deep in the northern mountains, snow fell silently around the Silver Sky Sect Noah's domain.
Inside a dimly lit chamber, Noah sat on a raised platform, eyes cold and calculating. Before him, Miralyn knelt respectfully, her silver hair cascading behind her.
In her hand a small jade bottle filled with purple liquid.
Aphrodisiac Poison.
The final component of Noah's manipulative plan.
She presented it with a smile. "My prince… the poison is ready."
Noah took the bottle, examining it with a grin. "Good. With this, I will have Crystal under my control. Once I get her into bed, the general will have no choice."
Miralyn bowed deeper. "Everything is in place. I will—"
Suddenly—
SLAM!
Noah grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into the ground with enough force to crack stone.
Her body shuddered even if it was merely a mind projection, the pain was real enough.
"You dare hide things from me?" Noah hissed, face inches from hers, eyes glowing cold. "My spies in the Aserra mansion were killed. Killed without a trace. And you didn't tell me?"
Miralyn coughed, gasping for air. "My prince… forgive me… I didn't know—"
"I don't tolerate incompetence."
He released her, letting her fall limp against the stone floor.
Her form flickered.
Then turned into mist.
And vanished.
Back at the Valen Mansion at nightfall
Far from the snow-covered sect, in the blooming estate of the Valen family…
Miralyn's true body sat up in bed pale, trembling, and exhausted. Her eyes were sunken, dark circles forming beneath them.
Projecting her soul into the mountains, spying, obeying, planning… she hadn't slept in days. And then Noah just had to slam her body it hurts really bad.
She opened her door slowly, pressing a hand against the wall to steady herself.
Only to nearly collide face-first with
Crystal.
Standing right in the hallway.
Cold green eyes watching her.
A calm smile on her lips.
Miralyn froze.
Her heart stopped.
"C—Crystal…?"
Crystal simply smiled wider.
A smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Then, without a word, she brushed past Miralyn her steps silent as snow heading toward Lyra Valen's room.
Miralyn turned, staring after her with wide violet eyes.
"What is she doing here…?"
She whispered the words softly.
But deep in her heart terror bloomed.
"The dead do not fear destiny. Only the living tremble before what they cannot change."