Three days later, Lin Yue stepped into the palace garden for fresh air.
A mistake.
The moment she was alone, a gust of flames erupted behind her. A fiery talisman exploded at her feet.
She spun, coughing.
Figures in crimson masks materialized, their qi burning hot enough to warp the stone tiles.
Sun Flame Sect.
Great.
Their leader stepped forward, smirking under his mask.
"Lin Yue. You have caused too much imbalance. Come quietly."
She blinked. "You want me to what?"
"You resonate with the Night Emperor. You possess forbidden power. You are a threat."
She sighed. "Can you people PLEASE stop narrating my problems back to me?"
"Capture her," he commanded.
The assassins surged.
Lin Yue froze——but instinct moved her hand.
A Lunar Thread ignited.
More than one.
Twenty.
TWENTY.
Silver strands whipped into existence, slicing through the air like celestial blades.
The masked cultivators halted mid-attack.
"…That's not normal," one whisper-squeaked.
"No," the leader hissed. "It is worse."
Lin Yue stared at the threads in horror.
"I DIDN'T MEAN TO SUMMON THAT MANY—"
The threads spiraled outward.
The ground cracked.
Moonlight surged upward like a tidal wave.
The garden exploded in silver brilliance.
The Sun Flame Sect members screamed as they were flung back, pinned to the walls by invisible pressure.
Lin Yue blinked at her accidental destruction.
Then—
Reality warped.
Pressure intensified.
And he arrived.
Xuan Mo stepped into the ruined garden without touching the ground. Moonlight coiled around him like a living storm.
He looked at the attackers.
Once.
Just once.
Every one of them collapsed to their knees, gasping for air that refused to obey them.
"Mine," Xuan Mo said softly.Too softly.
The garden shook.
"You attempted to kidnap what is mine."
Lin Yue whispered, "You don't need to say it like that—"
But he was not listening.
His aura darkened.
"I should erase your sect."
The masked leader choked. "Your Majesty—please—"
Xuan Mo raised a hand.
A gesture that meant annihilation.
Lin Yue grabbed his arm.
He froze.
Instantly.
Shock rippled through the attackers.Even more through him.
She swallowed.
"Don't kill them."
His aura flickered.
"They touched you."
"They tried," she corrected. "But I handled it."
His eyes dropped to her hands still gripping his sleeve.
Slowly, the killing intent faded.
The masked cultivators fled so fast their footprints smoked.
Xuan Mo stared at her.
"You touched me," he said softly.
"I grabbed your sleeve."
"You touched me," he repeated.
"…Is that a problem?"
He stepped closer.
"The last person who touched me without dying," he murmured, "was a god."
She blinked. "…Should I apologize?"
"No," he said, voice low. "Never apologize for reaching for me."
WHAT KIND OF LINE WAS THAT—?!
She flailed mentally.
He simply turned away and said, "Return to the chamber. Your training is unstable."
Her legs wobbled.
That was the hottest threat-to-civilization energy she'd ever seen.