The Conclave Chamber was chaos.
Elders lay scattered, bruised but alive.Defensive arrays flickered, barely holding.
And at the center stood a man wreathed in storm qi — a half-immortal from the Northern Sky Tribes.
Tall. Smirking. Radiating arrogance like secondhand smoke.
He pointed at Lin Yue.
"That one," he growled. "The prophecy-bearer. Hand her over."
Lin Yue raised her hand. "No thank you."
The immortal laughed. "You are tiny. And mortal. And tiny."
Lin Yue rolled her eyes. "You already said tiny."
"I CANNOT EMPHASIZE IT ENOUGH."
Xuan Mo stepped forward, aura unfurling.
"You will regret speaking."
The immortal scoffed. "You may be the Night Emperor, but you are not without weakness. If she dies, your fate collapses."
Xuan Mo froze.
Lin Yue didn't.
Her temper snapped.
"Oh for—STOP TRYING TO KILL ME AS A STRATEGY!"
The immortal smirked. "Make me."
Lin Yue inhaled.
Her soul flared.
Moonlight erupted from her body in a vortex of silver and violet — uncontrolled, wild, furious, stunning.
The immortal's smirk vanished.
"What—what ARE you—?!"
"Annoyed," Lin Yue said.
The vortex shot forward.
Not as a beam.
Not as a blade.
As sound.
A reverberation of pure soul-force that slammed into the immortal like a mountain learning judo.
He crashed into the far wall so hard it dented into the shape of his body.
Xuan Mo stared.
The entire hall stared.
Lin Yue blinked. "…Did I do that?"
Xuan Mo walked up beside her, voice soft and awestruck.
"Yes," he murmured."You did."
Then, without looking away from her, he raised his hand and snapped.
The immortal vanished — sealed into a moonbound prison.
Lin Yue whispered, "I didn't mean to go that hard."
Xuan Mo replied, "Do it again."
"WHAT?! No—!"
But he was smiling.
Actually smiling.
And heavens help her, she liked that smile.