The dome of the Opera Epiclese shimmered like mother-of-pearl in the setting sun. Living water flowed between its columns, reflecting the carved window panes. This should have been the hour when Fontaine's most melodious arias echoed through the hall—but the heavy thud of iron hooves shattered the peace.
Yan Liang reined in his divine steed, his scarlet cloak sweeping over the puddles disturbed by the horses' hooves. Behind him, the elite soldiers of Jizhou, led by Wen Chou, had completely surrounded the opera house. Their phalanx of spears cast cold, grim shadows across the marble floor.
"A place of such vanity," Yan Liang's rough voice boomed against the dome, jangling the copper bells in the eaves. "Search every box. If anyone resists—kill them without mercy!"
Amid the clink of armor, the soldiers were about to break down the doors when a pale blue figure suddenly appeared in the center of the opera house's main hall.
Neuvillette held the Oratrice Mecanique's gavel, his robes rippling gently like flowing water. His turquoise eyes reflected the approaching enemy, his voice as calm as a deep pool:
"Trespassing without permission. In accordance with Article 7, Volume 3 of the Fontaine Legal Code, you shall be sentenced to—"
"Who is this brat daring to block my path!"
Wen Chou could hold back no longer. He spurred his horse forward and thrust his spear. The wind from the tip tore through the air, only to be stopped by an invisible wall of water three feet from Neuvillette.
The water wall instantly froze, then shattered into a skyful of droplets, turning into several water arrows that shot straight for Wen Chou's face.
Wen Chou snorted, blocking the droplets with his spear. They exploded against the shaft, etching tiny pits into the steel.
"Interesting," he muttered in surprise, then grinned viciously. "It seems you shall taste the might of Hebei's fiercest warriors!"
Seeing Wen Chou had failed, Yan Liang urged his horse forward to stand beside him. The two attacked side by side, their spears surging like twin dragons, their assault unrelenting.
Neuvillette moved with graceful agility. With a light tap of his scepter, the water in the opera house boiled at once, shaping into water dragons, ice shards, and water whips to meet the attack.
At first he held his own, but Yan Liang and Wen Chou were veteran warriors, their coordination flawless. Their spear strikes wove an impenetrable storm, thunderous and overwhelming, slowly forcing Neuvillette back again and again.
Clang!
Yan Liang's spear slammed heavily against the scepter. Neuvillette's arm went numb, the scepter nearly slipping from his grasp. He stumbled back several steps, his back slamming into a gilded railing before he steadied himself.
Looking up, he saw Wen Chou's spear tip already before his eyes, its cold light reflecting his shocked expression.
"Die!" Wen Chou roared. The spear tip was barely an inch from Neuvillette's throat.
At that critical moment, the opera house's stained-glass windows suddenly shattered under a scarlet figure!
Amid flying shards, the Green Dragon Crescent Blade sliced through the air with a long, piercing whistle. Its wind forcefully knocked Wen Chou's spear half a foot aside.
"Hebei dogs—harm not my ally!"
Guan Yu reined in the Red Hare. His green robes flapped violently in the wind. His phoenix eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening like a blade as it fell upon Yan Liang and Wen Chou.
Neuvillette seized the chance to retreat, staring at the sudden reinforcements with a flicker of astonishment in his turquoise eyes.
Yan Liang, enraged by the interruption, shouted:
"Who dares interfere with the army of Hebei?!"
"Guan Yunchang of Jieliang!"
Guan Yu's voice was not loud, yet carried the weight of a thousand jun. "I have come specifically to take your heads!"
Before the words faded, the Red Hare charged like an arrow loosed.
Yan Liang did not even see the blade's movement before his neck turned cold—and his world spun. He had been beheaded in a single strike.
Wen Chou paled, thrusting his spear in panic, only to be driven back by Guan Yu's reverse slash.
They clashed three times on horseback. Guan Yu feinted a weakness; as Wen Chou's spear lunged in, he suddenly twisted aside, slamming the hilt against the spear shaft. In the instant Wen Chou's arm went numb, the Crescent Blade sliced downward. Blood immediately stained the white marble floor.
The smoke gradually cleared. Guan Yu sheathed his blade. The Red Hare snorted, its hooves splattering tiny droplets in the puddles.
He turned to Neuvillette and nodded slightly.
"Are you unharmed, sir?"
Neuvillette gripped his still-trembling scepter, glanced at the bodies of Yan Liang and Wen Chou, then at the red-faced, long-bearded general before him. After a long moment, he spoke softly:
"Thank you… for your aid. Yet I wonder—why have you come here?"
Guan Yu gazed at the sinking sun outside the window and spoke calmly:
"I was sent by my elder brother to seek worthy talents. Passing by, I saw injustice. A man must act when he sees wrong."
With that, he turned his horse. The Red Hare stepped over the broken glass, walking slowly out of the opera house.
Neuvillette stood alone in the ruined hall, watching his departing back, his fingers unconsciously brushing the faint water marks still lingering on his scepter.
The copper bells on the dome fell silent once more. Only the blood on the floor, washed by the flowing water, slowly wound like a river, finally draining into the dark channels deep within the opera house—
as if this cross-temporal battle had never happened at all.