After Meira staggered off, Daoist Hakuzi gently stroked his beard, a sigh of melancholy slipping from his lips.

  “This poor Daoist has a bitter truth to speak... though I fear it may not be welcome.”

  Xander, still seething, huffed twice through gritted teeth. Then, turning his head stiffly, he rasped:

  “Daoist... speak.”

  The old priest gave a solemn nod. His voice, dry and low, carried a weight of finality:

  “Master, forgive my bluntness. But from what I’ve gathered, ever since the Heavenreach Sect was annihilated, the entire Emberlight martial world has fallen silent, like cicadas in winter. No one dares even mention that person with the slightest disrespect.

  From this, we can see... that person’s current prestige is absolute.”

  He paused, letting the words sink in.

  “Therefore, Master, this poor Daoist advises you to make haste and offer an apology. A sincere one. Just like the ancients who bared their backs and carried thorns in penitence. It would be even better if you're visibly injured, a little blood, a little suffering. It helps paint a picture of humility. Helps your sincerity reach Her Highness, the heir apparent.”

  The Daoist gave a meaningful glance.

  “And... if I may suggest, offering a token of goodwill might help. Perhaps... a portion of the original shares in Zenbach Armament Engineering.”

  “This...”

  Xander’s expression twisted with discomfort.

  It wasn’t about the thorns or the pain.

  What’s a few wounds?

  The real pain... was Zenbach.

  It was the cornerstone of the Chur family’s legacy, the pillar that held up their future.

  To just hand over even a fraction of those shares...

  Sigh.

  It cut deep.

  He remained silent for a long while, but eventually, a sharp light flashed in his eyes. He clenched his jaw and growled:

  “No. Not the shares, not yet. If Alec brought this disaster upon us, then take him to apologize. Whether they beat him or kill him, that’s their call.”

  “Ah?!!” Daoist Hakuzi stiffened in shock.

  That’s your own son!

  To protect the family name and fortune, he was willing to cast aside his own blood?

  Unbelievable... ruthless to the core.

  The old Daoist’s eyes narrowed. A flicker of icy light shimmered deep within.

  If he could turn on his own son this easily... one day, when this poor Daoist becomes expendable...

  He said nothing, but inwardly began mapping out his escape.

  After a moment, he asked again, his tone gentler:

  “Then... when does the Master intend to visit Her Highness?”

  “This...”

  Xander didn’t answer right away. He seemed distracted, lost in his own thoughts.

  His thick brows knotted together. He muttered, “Still... need to wait a little.”

  At those words, Hakuzi understood instantly.

  Still afraid of losing face.

  But face... meant nothing if you were already dead.

  Alas... what a hopeless fool.

  The old Daoist gave a slow, imperceptible shake of the head.

  And in his heart, disappointment settled like stone. He said nothing more.

  ...

  In a desolate corner of the Chur family estate, Meira stood with her head bowed, her expression devoid of emotion as her fingers moved across her phone.

  Flashing on the screen was the unmistakable emblem of the Black Skull organization.

  Her eyes burned with a wild, frenzied gleam. Coldly, she muttered through clenched teeth:

  "Seraphine. Yes, you're powerful. But even if I have to burn everything I have to the ground, even if it costs me everything... I’ll kill you. I’ll die without regret."

  At this point, it was clear: Meira had slipped completely into obsession. Reason no longer had a place in her mind. No one could reach her now.

  On her phone screen:

  Black Skull Customer Service:

  "Greetings. If you'd like to submit a mission request..."

  Meira:

  "I want to speak directly to your leader."

  Black Skull Customer Service:

  "We’re sorry. That service is not available."

  Meira:

  "I’m holding the blueprints for three types of military-grade exoskeletons developed by Zenbach Armament Engineering, along with the full schematic for the intelligent combat suit: 【Heavenly Soldier】.

  You know very well those alone are worth upwards of 3 billion on the black market."

  A pause.

  Then:

  Black Skull Customer Service:

  "...Please hold."

  The screen flickered. The interface changed.

  A new figure appeared: a blurry, shadowy silhouette, faceless, undefined.

  Text began to scroll across the screen.

  Shadow:

  "We know your target: Seraphine of the Emberlight line. We are willing to mobilize the full force of Black Skull to eliminate her."

  "However, this is a high-risk operation. For safety reasons, we must verify the authenticity of the schematics.

  You will need to send them in advance."

  Meira:

  "No. How can I trust you’ll act once I hand them over?"

  Shadow:

  "Please trust in our integrity. Black Skull has operated for over twenty years.

  We’ve handled operations even more sensitive than this."

  "And let’s be honest, no one else will help you now. Only us."

  There was a long silence.

  Meira stared at the screen, her jaw clenched tight.

  Then, with shaking fingers, she typed:

  "Fine. I hope you keep your word."

  Shadow:

  "Rest assured. For an assassin, integrity is paramount. Believe in that."

  The screen flashed: [Data Connection Established]

  For a moment, Meira hesitated.

  But the sheer hatred boiling inside her, intense, mind-searing, consuming, finally overtook her reason.

  She gritted her teeth and pressed send.

  Several blueprints began to upload.

  ...

  Meanwhile, far south, in the depths of the Emberlight continent, within the shadowed borders of the Khmerion nation.

  A vast wilderness stretched across the region, blanketed in dense jungle and veils of poisonous mist. At the heart of this toxic expanse sat a hidden compound of ancient buildings.

  In the courtyard of the largest central structure, a broad-shouldered man lounged lazily in a chair, flipping through a stack of documents with casual interest. His skin was dark and taut, his face narrow and harsh. A deep scar slashed diagonally across his features, from brow to jaw. His mouth was unnaturally wide with bulging cheeks, giving him the grotesque appearance of some mutated toad demon.

  This man was none other than the leader of Black Skull: Ling.

  Likewise, he was a native superpower user, born and trained in the Khmerion nation.

  Moments later, a tall man standing nearly two meters high with deeply tanned skin stepped forward and spoke respectfully:

  “Chairman, the woman from the Chur family has indeed sent over the blueprint for the combat suit, just as you predicted. However, it’s only one-fifth of the full design. She claims she’ll hand over the rest once the target is eliminated.”

  Ling gave a soft chuckle. “Heh... cunning. But it’s of no consequence.”

  He gestured casually, his voice calm but razor-sharp.

  “Later, contact those international financial media networks. Leak the story. A full data breach of Zenbach Armament Engineering’s next-generation flagship designs? That kind of bombshell will be more than enough to vaporize half their market cap.”

  His smile widened into a grin, cruel and gleaming.

  “HAHAHAHA... and when that happens, those top global investors—those market sharks—will descend on the Chur family like a pack of wolves. I’ll be trailing right behind, collecting scraps and licking the broth. Between the asset dump and the data sale, we’re looking at an easy ten... maybe twenty billion.”

  “Ah... then, Chairman...”

  The muscular man hesitated, choosing his words carefully: “Do you actually intend to go through with eliminating that person?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Ling turned to look at him, sneering.

  “Those Emberlight people, so frivolous, so arrogant. All talk, all pride. Always shouting about their ‘glorious’ traditions. Tch—‘Eight thousand years of history’? I suspect half of it’s made up.”

  His eyes darkened, his tone edged with venom.

  “Back when Khmerion first rose to claim its sovereignty, I lost count of how many of their so-called ‘martial elites’ I crushed underfoot. Let me be blunt: this so-called heir they’re parading around may have some ability, but don’t expect miracles.”

  “The martial path? What of it? Even an Evershield Body level fighter, what is that to me now? Just another stepping stone, something I could swallow whole.”

  He continued, voice low but filled with dangerous certainty:

  “Before the great Ether Tide descends, I’ve already identified every apex fighter on Earth—superpowered or martial—every last one of them. I know exactly how each of them evolved, how their abilities shifted in response to the Ether’s resonance.”

  “But this... Seraphine? I’ve never even heard of her. It’s as if she appeared out of nowhere. So young, and yet you’re telling me she’s already swept across the entire Emberlight martial world?”

  He scoffed, eyes narrowed.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “What do they take us for? Children? Even if they were manufacturing a god, they wouldn’t make one this absurd. No restraint, no plausibility. Do they think reality doesn’t follow rules?”

  The young man shifted, then asked, his voice barely above a whisper: “But if… what if she really is that strong...?”

  “Wouldn’t that change... everything?”

  “What if?” Ling narrowed his eyes, a false smile curling across his lips. “Sheng, let me tell you something.”

  “Early on, I bribed a eunuch stationed in the residence of a high-ranking Emberlight official. I had him steal a top-secret combat evaluation report from the Emberlight military, one specifically on Seraphine.”

  “The document clearly stated, in black and white, that her actual combat capabilities are only several times stronger than a standard Evershield Body martial artist. And this is from their own military archives, an internal classified report. There’s no way it’s fabricated.”

  Sheng, standing to the side, nodded solemnly.

  “Indeed. Logically, the Emberlight military wouldn’t need to falsify internal files. There’s no reason for it. Besides, even if Seraphine is a once-in-a-millennium prodigy—cultivating from before birth, awakened with highly-lethal superpowers, and enhanced through Ether tide evolution—even then…”

  He hesitated, frowning slightly. “Even then, such power... still shouldn’t be possible.”

  He added, voice lower now: “Chairman, I’ve seen the leaked footage from over there. That battlefield… it looked like ground zero for a hydrogen bomb. I’m not going to lie, it unsettled me. You said it yourself, maybe... maybe we should be a little cautious.”

  “Tch!” Ling snorted, waving a dismissive hand.

  “The rumors of the old emperor’s failing health have already spread globally. At the eleventh hour, they push forward some no-name heir? Heh. It’s obvious. The Emberlight command is fabricating a myth, crafting this so-called ‘humanoid nuclear bomb’ as a strategic deterrent. A smokescreen to mask fractures in the royal court.”

  “And don’t forget: Aurenthal the First, Third, and Fifth aren’t easy men to deal with. This is political theater, pure and simple. Textbook misdirection.”

  He paused briefly, then muttered: “Odd though… my man embedded in Ashara hasn’t sent any updates on the First Prince in quite some time. No idea what’s going on there…”

  He waved the thought away. “No matter. Forget him. This time, I’ll handle it personally. I’ll kill that Seraphine myself.”

  Ling slowly traced a long scar running down the side of his face, his expression twisting into a sneer.

  “The moment that Xelorian died, this scar lost its meaning. I’ll return the pain—every inch of it—to Seraphine.”

  Then, his eyes lit up with a darker, hungrier gleam, and he let out a low, greedy chuckle.

  “And that 《Celestial Flute》 she somehow acquired... ah, I’m very interested in that little method. My cultivation has already reached its peak. I need something fresh to push further. Something ancient, refined. Not this nonsense about ‘self-created’ methods.”

  “No young upstart can create a technique capable of breaking through martial limits, not unless they stumbled upon some long-buried relic.”

  He turned toward Sheng. “And you, Sheng. You should be just as interested in that divine technique, shouldn’t you? Your superpower walks hand in hand with martial cultivation.”

  “Of course!” Sheng nodded emphatically, his face mirroring Ling’s hunger.

  “Ever since the great Ether tide, my 【Demon Muscles】 strength has surged—dozens, maybe even a hundred times stronger than before. At this point, a standard Evershield Body martial artist is child’s play to me. If I can lay my hands on the 《Celestial Flute》… who knows how far I could go.”

  Ling gave an approving nod, stroking his chin as he grinned.

  “Excellent. Then in two days, I’ll head north myself… and meet this so-called walking warhead face to face.”

  He turned away, voice cold and final. “Sheng, you stay here. Guard the base well.”

  Sheng lowered his head respectfully. “As you command, Chairman.”

  ...

  Following the great battle in Ashara, the sibling duo, Auron and Selene, quickly secured positions within the Heir Apparent’s Affairs Bureau. With the help of Yvienne and a few discreet high-level connections in the Secret Service, they participated in an internal recruitment drive and became part of the first batch of martial arts operatives in the Bureau.

  Their first assignment came swiftly.

  Mission Objective: Investigate possible activity linked to the PsyBro Syndicate.

  Seraphine had always harbored a mild curiosity about this elusive organization.

  Unfortunately, PsyBro’s capacity for disappearing into the shadows was almost supernatural.

  They hadn’t made a single appearance within the borders of Emberlight. Instead, whispers of them emerged only from distant, obscure third-world nations, remote backwaters rarely scrutinized by the major powers.

  Seraphine, occupied with far more pressing matters and not particularly driven by this curiosity, had casually issued the directive. A simple, open-ended order: send out a few Bureau agents to gather information abroad.

  No deadline. No strict expectations.

  Just a routine probe.

  And so, under official orders from the Bureau, the siblings went undercover, taking command of a dozen agents and assuming the guise of foreign merchants.

  In a crumbling port city within a humid tropical microstate, they began their quiet investigation into PsyBro’s trail.

  To seasoned agents like Auron and Selene, this sort of low-risk, low-intensity mission was hardly work.

  More like an expenses-paid overseas vacation.

  But the holiday atmosphere didn’t last long.

  Barely two days into their stay, a local informant handed them a lead:

  “A gambling ship, secretly funded by PsyBro investors, is scheduled to dock at the harbor tonight. Passengers are welcome aboard for overnight entertainment.”

  The moment night fell, the siblings were already in position, waiting by the pier with their team.

  Despite the late hour, the port remained a hub of noise and motion.

  Boatmen in short vests bustled about unloading crates, yelling over the roar of crashing surf and chattering crowds.

  “Ahh~”

  Selene let out a lazy yawn, her small nose wrinkling in mild annoyance.

  “Brother, how long until this ship finally shows up?”

  Auron stood beside her, arms crossed, silent, until his eyes suddenly narrowed.

  “It’s here,” he said quietly.

  “Eh?” Selene blinked, turning her gaze in the direction he was watching.

  She knew better than to question it: Auron’s senses were almost unnervingly sharp.

  And sure enough…

  Moments later, a ten-thousand-ton luxury cruise ship came into view, gilded in gaudy streaks of gold and crimson. It glided slowly toward the harbor, glowing like a floating palace of excess.

  The entire vessel shimmered with a thick coat of golden paint. On each side, flamboyant murals of heavenly blessings in red, green, and blue curled across the hull.

  The artistry was intricate, even masterfully executed.

  But the bizarre clash of colors with the garish gold base gave the whole thing an air of extreme wealth paired with absolutely no taste.

  Soon, the ship docked.

  CLANG!

  The gangway descended with a mechanical thud.

  The crowd that had been waiting at the port, restless and murmuring, instantly surged forward in a single tidal wave.

  Auron and Selene led their agents, melting into the flow of excited passengers.

  Once everyone was aboard, the ship slowly pulled away from the dock, its massive hull sliding into the black sea beyond.

  Overhead, thunder rumbled.

  What had been a clear, windless night suddenly twisted. The horizon darkened, and the waves began to rise in towering swells.

  Rain speckled the air, at first gentle, then quickly mixed with sharp gusts of wind screaming in from the distance.

  But the siblings, focused on the mission ahead, alert but not alarmed, paid the weather no mind.

  They also didn't notice what was left behind.

  The dock they had just departed, the boatmen, the stacked crates, the shouting...

  All of it was gone.

  Not just emptied. Erased.

  Faint wisps of smoke curled where they had stood, drifting upward and vanishing.

  Within seconds, the once-crowded pier had turned ghostly silent.

  As if the chaos had never happened at all.

  Some time later:

  Onboard the cruise ship.

  THUMP THUMP!

  A knock came from outside the cabin, followed by a gentle male voice:

  "Excuse me, attendant here. May I come in?"

  Selene skipped toward the door and opened it without hesitation.

  "Coming, coming~"

  CLICK. The door swung open.

  Standing there was a ship attendant, politely pushing in a silver food cart.

  Selene blinked at the lavish spread atop it, her voice rising in surprise: “Huh? What’s all this?”

  Auron walked over as well, leaning casually against the doorframe, eyes narrowing slightly at the man’s bowed posture.

  “We didn’t order anything,” he said bluntly. “Why bring us food?”

  The attendant looked up with a smile that showed strangely pale teeth, almost ghostly.

  "Good day! This is part of our Ruby Ray cruise service. Every guest aboard receives a complimentary seafood feast."

  With that, he let out a hearty, a bit too hearty, chuckle and wheeled the cart inside.

  "Grilled seafood!"

  "Scallop and oyster platter!"

  "Seared lamb chops!"

  "Herbed white fish!"

  "Steamed stonefish!"

  "Seafood noodles with crab roe and smoked ham!"

  Selene watched as dish after steaming, fragrant dish was set neatly on the table, her eyes growing rounder by the second.

  "Wow! That’s a lot of food!" she gasped. "Ooh! And cold Coca-Cola too!"

  She instantly reached out and grabbed a chilled bottle, ready to pop it open.

  “Wait!”

  Auron smacked her hand lightly, tone sharp but low: "Are you on vacation or something?"

  "Eh? Oh—"

  Selene froze, then immediately caught the hint in his voice.

  Of course. Her brother was reminding her this wasn’t normal.

  Something was off.

  She hurriedly set the bottle back on the table and stepped aside, lips pouting but silent.

  The attendant seemed unaware, or perhaps indifferent. Once the table was fully set, he gave a courteous bow, still smiling:

  “Please enjoy, honored guests.”

  And with that, he turned and exited quickly, pushing the cart out.

  BANG!

  The door shut behind him with a solid thud.

  Auron folded his arms, staring at his sister like she’d grown a second head.

  "This isn't your first day as an agent,” he snapped. “Why do you act like a civilian every damn time? Huh?!"

  “Aw—”

  Selene hung her head, mumbling, “I was just... kinda hungry…”

  Auron rubbed his temples and let out a tired breath.

  “Hungry or not, you always check food that comes from outside. What if you got poisoned, huh? Who’s gonna collect your body?”

  “…I got it…” she muttered, lips tightly pursed.

  Shaking his head, Auron approached the table with a stern face. From a pocket in his chest, he pulled out a silver device, something like a sleek, mechanical stapler.

  It wasn’t for office work.

  This was a food-testing tool, issued exclusively by the Affairs Bureau to combat-ready personnel. Capable of scanning for most known toxins, rare chemical agents, even compounds that induced hallucinations or forced sleep.

  It was sleek. Fast. High-tech.

  ...

  A few minutes later.

  With the device’s light staying green throughout the scan, Auron finally gave a nod.

  “Alright. It’s clean. Safe to eat.”

  “Yessss!!”

  Selene, who had been standing frozen like a guilty cat, instantly sprang into motion. She dove for the table, snatched up the same bottle of Coca-Cola her brother had quietly uncapped earlier, and gulped it down in loud swigs.

  Then frowned.

  “Hmph! All the fizz is gone! Tastes flat!”

  Auron shrugged, too done to respond, and quietly took a bottle for himself.

  SPLASH— SPLASH—

  Beyond the porthole, waves began to roll higher. The once-playful breeze had turned restless.

  A storm was brewing.

  The rain was growing heavier by the minute.

  Raindrops pelted down in thick, relentless sheets, mingling with seawater flung up by the raging storm. Thunder rolled endlessly above, vibrating through the hull of the cruise ship like a warning drumbeat from the heavens.

  And yet, within the cozy interior, sheltered from the elements, there was warmth and calm: an almost luxurious contrast that made one’s limbs heavier and appetite sharper.

  After ensuring the food was safe, the two siblings sat down without hesitation and began to eat in peace.

  Maybe it was because they hadn't tasted fresh seafood in a long time, but every bite today felt extraordinarily flavorful.

  Scallops and oysters, soft and juicy, seasoned with finely chopped garlic...

  Tsk, perfection.

  Food always carries warmth.

  That familiar sense of happiness when flavors burst across the tongue, when you chew greedily and swallow, letting it slide down the throat and settle into the hollow of your stomach: it's a comfort no one wants to let go.

  “Mmm~ So good!”

  Selene had a crab in one hand, an oyster in the other, her cheeks puffed and shiny with oil. Her eyes scrunched into gleeful little crescents as she ate.

  Across the table, Auron watched her, visibly unimpressed by her table manners, but said nothing.

  It wasn’t really her fault. The food was, simply put, too good.

  So good that it was... suspicious.

  In fact, Auron was sure of one thing: he'd never eaten seafood this delicious in his entire life.

  “Something’s not right,” he muttered.

  Even as he said it, waves of warmth continued to rise in his chest, deep, nostalgic, unsettling.

  It reminded him of something.

  That same warmth from long ago, when their mother used to cook dinner on rainy nights.

  And precisely because of that feeling, his unease only grew.

  Then, without warning.

  BEEEEEEP!!!

  A deep, echoing horn blared from the deck. A moment later, a smooth male voice rang out over the speakers:

  “Good evening, esteemed passengers. I’m Lucian Storm, assistant captain of the Ruby Ray luxury cruise ship.

  Due to the worsening storm and rising waves, the sea is becoming increasingly unstable. Please remain inside and avoid venturing onto the deck.

  We ask for your cooperation. Stay in your cabins and rest assured…”

  "Lucian Storm?!!!"

  The two siblings froze mid-bite.

  Their eyes locked instantly, wide, stunned, breath caught in their throats.

  In each other's gaze, they saw the same thing:

  Shock. Recognition. Fear.

  “Nightmare Demon Lucian Storm! That’s... that’s one of the three deputy chairmen of the PsyBro Syndicate! He’s high up!”

  Selene, who had studied all the intel on PsyBro Syndicate by heart, dropped her half-eaten crab, her face pale with disbelief.

  “Did we just... catch the big one? So fast? What kind of luck is this?”

  Her reaction was still a bit optimistic.

  But across the table, Auron’s expression darkened. He furrowed his brows deeply.

  “Good luck or bad luck… that’s the real question.”

  His voice dropped a note.

  “And I don’t know why, but I have a really, really bad feeling.”

  Suddenly.

  “Your premonition is correct, Mr. Auron.”

  The voice on the speaker changed, colder now. Harsher.

  “You, another New Human... still loyal to that heir apparent? Tell me, how does it feel to be her lapdog? Does the leash itch yet?”

  BOOM!!!

  A peal of thunder exploded outside, rattling the very walls.

  The two siblings shuddered violently, whether from the storm or from Lucian’s voice, they couldn’t tell.

  But a chill, sharp and unnatural, rushed down their spines.

  Like a shadow surging in from beyond the door.

  No.

  It wasn’t about to surge in.

  It already had.

  BZZZZZZ—

  Their vision wavered. Everything blurred, faded, shimmered.

  Their minds fogged over in an instant, scattered, confused.

  “Ugh! What’s happening?! My head!” Selene cried out.

  She swayed, her eyes rolling back, then collapsed onto the floor.

  On the ground, she looked around in a daze, but everything had dissolved into a gray, ghostly fog.

  “I—I can’t see anything!”

  She rubbed her eyes frantically, but the haze remained.

  And worse, her limbs were growing soft, numb, useless.

  Across the table.

  “Damn it!”

  Auron clenched the table edge, fighting the dizziness tearing through his mind.

  “What the hell... is going on?!”

  He gritted his teeth and glared upward.

  “Lucian! When did you poison us?!”

  “Poison?”

  A soft, almost amused laugh came from the speaker.

  “I never needed poison. From the moment you let me in, this outcome was sealed.”

  “You… the attendant from earlier?!”

  Auron roared, his eyes widening.

  He forced himself upright, looking at his unconscious sister.

  “Selene! Selene, wake up!”

  But he couldn’t hold on.

  Seconds later, darkness claimed him too.

  Misty... blurred... broken...

  Then.

  Silence.

  And then, as if yanked from the depths of a dream, they both awoke.

  Their eyes flew open.

  They were standing, disoriented, on a rotting deck, the air thick with mildew and salt.

  All around them, decay and darkness.

  No lights.

  No life.

  No sound.

  A ghost ship.

  As if no one had set foot here for decades.