Youqing lowered her gaze, fingertips gently stroking the obsidian bead bracelet as she spoke in an even, unhurried tone.
"About Ye Yi… Lord Ye once told me—when Ye Yi first fell into demonhood, he carved out a domain for himself and called it the Demon Capital, proclaiming himself the Demon Lord."
"He used the Art of Yao-Seizing to seduce hearts, gathering those with crooked minds and greedy desires. He tried to break the Five-Yao Order through demonic ways. The former Realm Emperor issued a realm-wide manhunt."
Luo Ye's expression shifted; his fist tightened slightly.
Youqing continued, "At the beginning, Ye Yi's power truly struck fear into everyone. The Rift-Yao cultists and the traitorous Yao-Armor troops served him—fighting to the death without retreat."
"But that was Ye Yi's first generation of forces—back before he was sealed."
She lifted the obsidian bracelet. Firelight shimmered across the beads.
"After Ye Yi was sealed, time passed. His original followers are long gone."
"The Rift-Yao army today doesn't believe in him, and it doesn't follow him—
it's been soul-stolen, heart-bewitched, and controlled."
Ding Yuxuan's eyes widened. "So… those Rift-Yao soldiers… they don't even have a self?"
Garo answered coldly, "They don't. Ye Yi's 'army' isn't human. It's a shell."
Youqing nodded. "Exactly. Ye Yi isn't returning with loyal men. He's returning with prey—dragged between life and death, forced to march."
Her voice sank, growing heavier. "This is different from the Nether Domain. The Nether Domain is made of people cast aside by the Yao Realm—people who survived on their own and were unified by the Nether Emperor. It is a nation built by the living."
"But Ye Yi's Demon Capital… from beginning to end, it was nothing but a tomb he hollowed out with his own hands."
The council hall fell into silence.
Si Moheng slowly raised his eyes, his voice low and cold. "The Nether Domain is a way of founding a nation. Ye Yi… is a calamity of stolen souls."
Lianyu's hand settled on the hilt of his blade, his tone like a cut. "Then the Nether Domain is not his refuge."
Garo clenched his armored fist, his voice deep and weighted. "And what's worse—he commits chaos under the banner of Rift-Yao, and the world thinks it was the Nether Domain that did it. He pins betrayal and slaughter on our name—so people believe the Nether Emperor walks the same path."
He looked up. Murderous intent hardened in his eyes like steel. "This isn't provocation. It's humiliation."
Garo's fury had not yet cooled, but Youqing had already turned, drawing the obsidian bracelet back into her sleeve. Her tone returned to its steady calm.
"Yes. He treats human lives as tools. This time—
we will not let him live."
She lifted her gaze and swept it over them all.
"It's late. Everyone—go rest."
"Starting tomorrow, we fight a hard battle."
No one hesitated.
Garo, Tutan, Lianyu, and Li Yan were the first to clasp their fists and leave.
Firelight washed over every face—
exhausted, suppressed, yet unshakably resolute.
Lin Lie rolled up the schematics, then immediately took Ding Yuxuan by the arm. His voice was flat, but protective.
"Come. You haven't rested all night."
Ding Yuxuan blinked as she was pulled up from her seat. "Huh? I—I haven't put away my tools…"
"Tomorrow," Lin Lie said, leaving no room for argument.
Ding Yuxuan jogged after him.
On the other side, Cang Yuan stood, tapping his scabbard lightly against his shoulder as usual—half-smiling, half-mocking. He extended a hand toward Xie Wenyun.
"The moonlight's too dim. Watch your step. And once we're back—explain what you meant by 'soul-stealing.'"
Xie Wenyun snorted, taking his hand. "I was just about to ask you the same thing."
Their figures gradually melted into the corridor's lamplight.
Luo Ye was hauled up by Sang Qi with one firm pull. "You need to go back and sleep—come on."
Luo Ye said nothing, fists clenched, dragging his exhausted body out step by step.
Sang Qi lifted his medicine case and turned to wait by the door.
Li Furong's brows were gentle, but worry lingered in her eyes. "Miss Youqing… will Ling Dang come back safely?"
Youqing nodded softly. "I'll do everything I can to bring her back. Don't worry."
Sang Qi rubbed his brow, his tone lazy as ever. "Look at you, worrying yourself sick. I'll have to brew you something to calm your spirit."
Li Furong's cheeks flushed, but she still followed obediently behind him.
One by one—pair by pair—shadows lengthened in the candlelight.
The crowd dispersed quickly.
Outside the hall, only scattered flames remained. Wind swept through the long corridor, pulling the candlefire into thin, trembling lines.
Youqing was about to turn—
when footsteps halted behind her.
Si Moheng didn't speak. He simply reached out and adjusted the collar of her cloak, smoothing it back into place.
His touch was light—like he was handling something precious.
"Moheng… if I don't come back," Youqing said, "take the Heart of the Yao-Spirit to the Crown Prince for me. Let him ascend the throne smoothly. I believe—with you all here—the Yao Realm and the Nether Domain will both be safe."
Moheng had only managed the first words—
"There won't be an 'if,' Qing'er—"
But Youqing pressed her hand to his wrist, cutting him off.
Her voice wasn't loud, yet it weighed on the chest like stone. "Listen to me—finish what I'm saying."
Si Moheng's fingers stiffened, slowly, as if the air itself had frozen.
Youqing looked at him. In her palm, the obsidian bracelet trembled with a faint light.
"This battle… I'm not confident."
"How long have I studied Soul-Enticement? I'm still feeling my way through it. But Ye Yi is different. He's researched these arts for years. His methods—his nightmare-souls—he knows them better than I ever could."
There was no sob in her voice, yet it tightened the throat more than tears.
"So the Heart of the Yao-Spirit stays with you—
only then can I be at ease."
She placed the Heart of the Yao-Spirit into Si Moheng's palm.
In that instant, the corridor seemed to lose all sound.
Only their breathing remained.
Si Moheng's fingers slowly curled.
It wasn't acceptance—
it was restraint, as if he were suppressing an urge to smash everything in reach.
He lowered his eyes to the Heart of the Yao-Spirit.
Light danced between the lines of his palm like a taunt.
After a long moment, his voice came out hoarse.
"You're asking me… to clean up after you."
Youqing pressed her lips together and did not deny it.
"If the soul-drawing fails, I won't come back. At least…"
Her voice turned lighter than moonlight. "At least you all will still be here."
Those words landed like a blade, slicing slowly from skin to bone.
Si Moheng finally lifted his gaze. There was no coldness in it—
only something so deep it stole the air from the lungs.
He stepped closer, forcing each word out, one by one.
"Youqing. Do you even understand what you're saying?"
Youqing stayed silent. She didn't retreat.
Si Moheng suddenly grabbed her wrist, his palm covering her knuckles.
He wasn't stopping her—
he was forcing her to feel how his hand was shaking.
"You want me to take it—meaning you've already decided you'll die in his hands."
Youqing was still, terrifyingly calm. "I'm only… preparing for the worst."
Si Moheng ground his teeth, his voice so low it nearly fractured. "I forbid you to prepare for that."
He wasn't shouting.
He was holding back a voice that was about to break.
Youqing looked at him. There was no yielding in her eyes—only greater resolve.
"Moheng… if I die there, you at least have to live."
Si Moheng closed his eyes, as if someone had struck him square in the chest.
In the next second, he yanked her into his arms.
It wasn't gentle.
It was forceful—desperate—like he wanted to press her into his heart until she could never be taken away.
His voice, barely audible, brushed her ear.
"I can't live in a world without you."
Youqing lifted her hand, resting it lightly on his back, as if soothing a string inside him that was close to snapping.
Her fingertips trembled, but her voice stayed steady. "Moheng… the Yao Realm needs you…"
Before she could finish, Si Moheng gripped her arm.
Not hard—
but like a drowning man seizing the only thing within reach.
He lowered his head, forehead pressed into the hollow of her shoulder, his voice breaking into pieces.
"But I need you."
It wasn't rage.
It was emotion held back too long—finally tearing through the dam.
His arms tightened, as if she might vanish from his embrace in the next breath.
"I don't care about the fate of the world. I only want you…"
"Stop saying these things to me!"
Held within his arms, Youqing felt the chaos of his breathing pounding in his chest. She wasn't blind to what he feared—
not war, not death—
but losing her.
She raised her hand and pressed the back of his neck, like calming a storm.
"Moheng…"
She knew her chest hurt, yet she forced her tone into calm. She sighed softly and rested her forehead against his.
Her voice was light—yet it spoke straight to the core of him.
"Only with a stable world… can we live in peace. Can we be happy. Do you understand?"
Si Moheng didn't answer at once. He kept his eyes shut, breath shuddering with restraint.
After a long time, he murmured, teeth clenched.
"I understand. But I don't want… only the 'world' left behind."
When he opened his eyes, there was a storm pressed into them.
"I don't want to be the only one in this world… who remembers you."
Youqing's heart jolted.
Si Moheng reached up and cupped her face, as if grasping the last thread of sanity.
"So you can't die."
His forehead pressed to hers again, their breaths mingling.
"Qing'er, however you fight—I'll support you."
"But you have to come back."
"Because a world without you… means nothing to me."
Youqing's lashes trembled. She lifted her hand and cradled the side of his face.
"Moheng, I will come back."
"For you, and for me—
for the future we want."
She pressed her lips softly to his brow.
"Wait for me."
And in that moment, neither of them spoke again.
The night was heavy. Candle shadows swayed—
like two people standing in the eye of a storm—
for no one else but each other.