Realm · Moon Court, a barrier where High Elves temporarily rewrite the laws of nature.
By the time Xue Yin and the others reached the battlefield, nearly a hundred Black Scale Guard corpses lay scattered across the ground, their blood staining the empty snowfield a dark crimson.
“It’s a barrier!” the Black Scale Guard leader roared.
“Kill all the witnesses who came here! Destroy the carriage!”
“Loose arrows! Mages, prepare!”
Whoosh!
Fifty strong bows fired in unison, arrows swarming like locusts!
Xue Yin lightly waved her Moon Radiance Staff, and all the arrows lost their momentum mid-flight, falling harmlessly to the ground.
Jin’s wings burst open wide, black flame forming a shield as his figure blurred into a charging afterimage.
His twin daggers flipped, three archers’ throats split open with lines of blood.
His right wing swept out, black flame rising like a wall, intercepting the enemy mages’ ice spears and poison mist.
The corrosive green fog collided with the black flame, hissing and sizzling.
Ailia raced toward the carriage while chanting in a clear voice.
Several beams of holy light shot into the enemy’s rear lines, blasting seven or eight soldiers off their feet.
Captain of the guard, Philen, lay collapsed beside Vera’s carriage.
Even in his unconscious state, a sense of duty as the guard captain kept his right hand wedged in the carriage door gap, never leaving Vera’s side for even a step.
Ailia knelt down, pressing her right hand to his chest, and chanted a rapid healing prayer.
Holy light slowly seeped into his limbs and bones.
“He’s alive! But his injuries are too severe… he might not last much longer!”
Xue Yin’s movements faltered for a moment, the chill in her eyes growing deeper.
Jin’s gaze turned icy cold, and his black flame surged.
The two exchanged a glance, said nothing, but their attacks grew even more ferocious.
Xue Yin tapped her staff repeatedly, unleashing wind blades, thunderbolts, and vines in rapid succession, giving the enemy no time to catch their breath.
She reached into her bag with her left hand, pulling out a crimson crystal ball engraved with stabilizing runes, and tossed it into the enemy ranks.
“What’s that?”
Jin’s left wrist, the Heart-Binding Chain, flared bright as black flame coiled around him like flowing water, leaving charred corpses wherever it passed.
“An alchemy bomb I made. Too bad the materials are too expensive—I usually hate to use them,” Xue Yin replied.
Boom!!!
A massive wave of crimson fire exploded across the area.
Over a dozen Black Scale Guards screamed as they fell, flames crawling into the gaps in their armor, their entire bodies igniting.
Xue Yin raised her staff high, magic power surging like a tide, silver light pouring from the staff tip.
Jin’s wings blazed like they could burn the sky, black flame forming a net, sealing off every escape route.
The remaining Black Scale Guards’ arrows, magic, and charges?
Before the absolute, synchronized teamwork of master and student, they were nothing more than grass to be mowed.
Fifteen minutes later, not a single Black Scale Guard was left alive.
Xue Yin withdrew her staff, and the Moon Court realm slowly dissipated.
Within a hundred paces, there were no traces of leaking magic power, nor any living enemies.
Ailia knelt beside Philen, cold sweat beading on her forehead.
The rose mark on the side of her neck grew slightly warm as she pressed both hands to his chest, holy light flowing in like a steady stream.
She knew Philen couldn’t be saved—seven penetrating wounds, three organs ruptured.
The holy light’s healing was futile, but Ailia still refused to give up.
“Hold on, just hold on a little longer…” she murmured, but her voice was trembling.
She didn’t know if she was saying it to him or to herself.
Philen’s eyelashes fluttered.
He slowly opened his eyes, vision blurry, bloodstains everywhere.
He moved his lips, voice as faint as a thread of silk: “…Vera…”
Vera immediately threw herself to his side, her small hands clutching tightly at his clothes.
Her tears fell onto his bloodstained armor, spreading into small patches of warmth.
“Philen! Don’t leave… please don’t leave… I’ll be good from now on… just don’t abandon me…”
She pressed her cheek against his cold hand, her voice choked with sobs:
“You said you’d teach me to ride horses… You said you’d take me to see the Crimson Festival lanterns… You can’t break your promises…”
Philen wanted to raise his hand to pat her head, but his arm felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.
All he could do was apologize in his heart:
‘I’m sorry, little mistress. I can’t watch you grow up.’
He turned to Jin, voice trembling:
“You… have fallen angel blood, don’t you? I can smell it… the scent of black flame. They say fallen angels are bloodthirsty and cruel, but when you protected her… your eyes were clean… I beg you… watch over her for me, just once.”
Jin knelt on one knee, his right fist pressed to his chest:
“Rest assured. We will protect her safety.”
Philen then looked to Ailia: “Compassionate Sister…”
Before he could finish, Ailia grabbed his hand tightly, tears streaming down her face.
Her holy light was still flowing in, knowing it was futile, yet she refused to stop.
“I will take good care of her,” she said, her voice choked but firm.
“Stop talking.”
Philen moved his eyes to Xue Yin.
“Lady…” he panted, every word carrying bloody froth, “I beg you… take her away.”
Xue Yin crouched down to meet his gaze.
She said nothing, only nodded gently.
But Philen panicked.
He thought her cold nod was just a dismissive gesture.
He suddenly struggled, his wounds splitting open, blood gushing out, yet he still cried out hoarsely:
“I know… we are strangers… you have no obligation… but please! Take her out of the Sixth Ring of the Demon Realm! The regent, Count Claudius… won’t let her go… he’s ambitious… I beg you!”
He even mustered his last strength, trying to prop himself up to perform a knight’s kneeling salute, but Ailia held him firmly down.
“Stop moving!” Ailia sobbed, tears pouring like rain.
“You’ll die faster!”
“I was already supposed to die…”
Philen forced a bitter smile, but a final flicker of fire still burned in his eyes.
“Sixteen guards… all gone… If even the little lord… the Brino family will truly be… cut off.”
Xue Yin placed her hand over where Vera’s and Philen’s hands intertwined.
Her fingertips carefully avoided the small scratch on Vera’s sleeve from a tear, wrapping Philen’s hand fully into her palm.
The power of creation flowed in, blood vessels trying to mend, shattered bones trembling slightly.
But Philen’s injuries were fatal, beyond recovery.
“Listen carefully,” Xue Yin said solemnly, her voice not loud, but cutting through the wind and snow.
“From now on, she is our responsibility. Rest assured, this is not a transaction, nor is it charity. It is our own choice.”
Philen could no longer hold back his tears.
He looked at Vera, smiled weakly:
“…Did you hear that? Someone else… is willing… to fight for you now.”
Philen’s breathing grew weaker and weaker.
His pupils began to dilate.
He took one last look at Vera, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly, using the final shred of his strength to express his gratitude to everyone:
“Thank you… kind… sirs…”
As his voice fell, the rise and fall of Philen’s chest stopped completely.
The hand that had blocked thousands of arrows and blades for the Brino family slowly dropped into the snow.
Ailia remained kneeling where she was, her hands still pressed to his chest, holy light lingering, as if she refused to acknowledge that he was gone.
Jin silently removed his own coat and draped it over Philen, then stepped back and bowed his head.
Vera stared at him blankly, then suddenly lunged forward, frantically shaking his shoulders:
“Philen! Wake up! You said you wouldn’t leave me! You promised! Liar! Grandfather never cared about me, and now all of you are leaving me too…”
Xue Yin stood among the corpses, her staff slightly lowered.
The String of Stillness had already sensed a large group of people approaching.
“Go.”
She spoke only a single word, but it cut through all possible hesitation.
She bent down and took Vera’s small hand, trying to pull her up.
But Vera suddenly wrenched free of Xue Yin’s hand and threw herself back to Philen’s side, her small hands clinging desperately to his cold arm, as if as long as she didn’t let go, death couldn’t take him away.
“No! We can’t leave them behind!”
Vera’s voice carried a child’s stubborn obstinacy.
“If we don’t give them a proper burial, their souls will get lost!”
She looked up, her amber eyes filled with tears, accusing them:
“You promised him! You promised to take me away, but you won’t even give him a funeral!”
Xue Yin didn’t argue.
She scooped Vera up in her arms, deliberately adjusting her hold so that Vera’s injured arm faced outward, away from the metal clasps on her own robes that might dig into her.
Then she turned and gently handed Vera to Ailia, motioning with her eyes for Ailia to leave quickly.
Ailia immediately took her, one hand steadily supporting Vera’s trembling back, the other gently stroking her wet brown hair, her fingertips stained with dried tears and blood.
“Vera, Philen traded his life for yours. You can’t let his death be in vain. Let’s go now, and we’ll come back later.”
Xue Yin didn’t look back at them.
She gripped her staff tightly and chanted in a low voice:
“Moon Court · Concealment.”
“Three li to the southeast, hoofbeats are getting closer,” Jin whispered to Xue Yin, then retreated to the rear of the group, glancing sideways at the battlefield swallowed by wind and snow behind him to confirm the distance of the pursuers.
Vera sobbed in Ailia’s arms, her body stiff but no longer struggling.
She buried her face in Ailia’s shoulder, her voice trembling:
“…Philen will be cold…”
Xue Yin didn’t stop walking, but her voice softened:
“When spring comes, when the snow melts, when the grass grows and the flowers bloom, he’ll be in all of that.”
Vera said nothing, only clutched Ailia’s clothes tighter.
Xue Yin knew how cruel this was.
Her heart wrestled over whether to say what came next.
For an eleven-year-old child, watching seventeen protectors die in battle and then being forced to abandon their bodies was like having her heart gouged out and bones scraped clean.
But Claudius wouldn’t give them time to grieve.
“Listen,” Xue Yin suddenly stopped, turning to look Vera straight in the eyes, speaking each word clearly.
“You can cry, you can be afraid. But remember this from now on— Let your tears flow in your heart, but your feet must not stop. Otherwise, Philen and the others… really will have died for nothing.”
The wind howled.
The four figures quickly disappeared into the depths of the Frost Snow Wasteland.
Behind them, the battlefield returned to silence.
Only the snow fell silently, layer after layer, covering the bloodstains, scorch marks, and broken blades, covering seventeen pairs of eyes that would never open again.
As if no one had ever died bravely and loyally here tonight.
As if no one had ever left mercilessly here.
But Xue Yin knew that one day, she would bring Vera back.
Then, the snow of the Frost Snow Wasteland would be cleaner, the wind gentler, and Philen’s name would be carved on the highest ice crystal monument, facing the morning sun, never to be tarnished by dust.
And until then, she had to live—strong, resilient, clear-headed.
Because someone had entrusted their future to her.