The air cracked as divine energy surged downward. The Veiled Empress descended—not like wind or shadow, but like the will of the stars themselves. Her arrival bent the sky, scattering the lanterns like frightened birds.
Her first strike didn't aim for Qianyu, but for Fenghua.
He met it with his blade—the Sword of Mercy flashing white against gold. But the force behind her blow was not mortal.
Fenghua staggered, blood spraying from his shoulder as he crashed into the water's edge. The ground split beneath him, but he forced himself upright, teeth clenched against the pain.
"Get her out of here," he growled.
Qianyu didn't move.
She took a step forward instead, her eyes glowing faintly with the echo of starlight. "I'm not running."
The Empress's eyes narrowed. "Then you've already chosen ruin."
She raised her hand—and the shard in Qianyu's palm pulsed violently. With a sound like breaking glass, the fragment split in two—half of it wrenched away, flying into the Empress's grasp.
Qianyu gasped, clutching the remaining piece as her breath caught in her throat. The warmth, the visions, the sense of self she had just begun to reclaim—ripped away.
"You may have remembered, child," the Empress said coldly. "But now you'll remember what it feels like to lose."
As divine energy gathered for a second strike—
A spear of obsidian fire tore from the mist, crashing into the Empress's shield with a thunderous boom. It staggered her—if only for a heartbeat.
From the shadows, Mo Lianxue emerged.
Soaked with lakewater, fury burning in her eyes, she strode forward with the confidence of someone who had nothing left to prove.
"It's a cursed lake," she said, voice sharp. "But it's ours."
Qianyu stared. "You came…?"
Lianxue smirked. "You entered our realm with blades. I don't care what crown you wear—you bleed like the rest."
Without waiting for thanks, she hurled another storm of shadowfire. It cracked through the air, forcing the Empress to brace again. For a breath, her divine glow flickered.
But the Empress's power surged back.
With a single wave of her hand, she hurled Lianxue through a crumbling stone arch. The demon princess vanished into the rubble.
"You delay the inevitable," the Empress said, voice like tolling bells.
Then—
A crescent-shaped blade flashed into the moonlight.
Rong Xianzhi landed silently beside Qianyu, his presence calm—but charged. His eyes swept over the chaos: Fenghua bleeding, Qianyu shaking, and the shard incomplete.
He spoke without hesitation.
"Get behind me."
Qianyu blinked. "Xianzhi—?"
"I should've come sooner," he said quietly. His voice held guilt... and something fiercer.
The Empress's eyes locked on him.
"Another prince playing knight?" she mocked.
Xianzhi didn't answer. But the wind shifted. His aura stirred—deeper than demon, more ancient than most would recognize.
Power rolled off him like thunder muffled beneath ice.
The Empress stilled.
Not out of fear—but recognition.
"…You carry his mark," she said at last, softer. "So the prophecy was true after all."
She stepped back—not defeated, but calculating. Her gaze flicked to Qianyu one last time.
"You've made your choice. Then so have we."
In a flash of golden light, she vanished—taking half the shard with her.
Silence rushed in like a tide.
The lanterns slowly drifted back, hovering uncertainly. The shrine crumbled behind them, half-sunken in the lake.
Qianyu dropped to her knees beside Fenghua, hands glowing faintly as she pressed against his wound. Blood coated her fingers.
"You should have let me handle it," he whispered, breath shallow.
"You're not allowed to die," she whispered back. Her voice shook more than her hands.
Xianzhi stood behind them, his blade still drawn, his stance wary. But his voice held something different now—resolve, not sorrow.
"Then we don't run anymore," he said. "Not from Heaven. Not from the truth."
From the cracked remains of the shrine, a single lantern drifted upward.
It glowed softly, pulsing in rhythm with Qianyu's heartbeat.
It hovered before her—not speaking, not pressing—just waiting.
Waiting for her next choice.
Waiting to see if the light she'd reclaimed... would be enough to challenge what came next.