“Exactly! Why not hire craftsmen to build a proper flying platform? This would get things done a lot faster!”

  The complaining night watchman yanked off his helmet, revealing a face that screamed trouble—mustache bristling, eyes glaring as he ranted loudly.

  His comrades nodded in agreement. To them, the creaking lift felt like a cage for prisoners—claustrophobic and unnerving.

  “Think about it,” the night watch captain cut in sternly. “Iron Law getting this busy—is that good or bad for the regiment?”

  He looked about Deacon Gan’s age, but moved with coiled power, strolling casually at the rear of the squad.

  The grumbling soldiers fell silent instantly.

  Iron Law stirring meant serious trouble in the regiment.

  The hot-tempered one realized his mistake and clamped his mouth shut, hiding his embarrassment.

  Unlike the others panting in the thin air, the captain breathed slow and steady—one deep inhale every few moments.

  He stopped before a stone pillar, adjusting his black helmet. A holographic display flickered across his visor.

  From this vantage, he overlooked the entire Watch Regiment camp.

  The screen swarmed with dense white and green dots.

  Green for soldiers. White for apprentices, families, merchants.

  As data loaded, an overlay map of Iron Law’s terrain appeared—green dots marking positions.

  A new white dot caught his eye. He turned toward the interrogation wing—Timo Yang staring back curiously.

  “That high platform out there—it’s the judgment platform, right?”

  A young night watchman pointed at the extended ledge.

  The bizarre formation looked like an earth essence wielder’s masterpiece—cliff arms thrusting outward, cradling the platform high.

  The trailing Iron Law enforcer stood impassive, uninterested in chit-chat.

  Seeing his subordinate’s curiosity, the captain answered.

  “Yes. Criminals are bound in essence-sealing chains. Wind, sun, rain—exposed until their spirit root scatters and their body withers.”

  “Who ends up there?”

  “Invaders. Traitors.”

  The iron-clad response drew every eye forward.

  An Iron Law adjudicator descended the upper stone steps, sizing up the group.

  The man was built like forged steel—shaved head, dark skin, robes edged in deeper crimson threads.

  His black boots thudded heavily, as if layered with metal soles.

  Thunder rumbled in the distant clouds. A bolt cracked down, striking the massive pillar on the judgment platform.

  Blue arcs danced along the black iron chains wrapped around it.

  The young soldier retreated a step, edging closer to his captain nervously.

  “Captain… we’re not heading up there, right?”

  The captain’s visor flagged “fear” on the readout. His expression hardened.

  “Soldiers—what is our creed?”

  At the sharp command, the seven-man squad snapped to attention, saluting in unison.

  “Endless night, we watch for dawn! Where we stand, blood and bone become beacons！”

  Their roared oath echoed, drawing stares from all around.

  “Are you traitors?”

  “No!”

  “Cooperating with the Elder is our duty! Report everything you saw and heard last night—truthfully. Assemble back here in half an hour!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  With crisp acknowledgment, the soldiers followed the enforcers into the stone hall.

  Timo Yang, fresh from his cell, stood awestruck by the scene.

  His eyes gleamed at the night watch squad in their magitech armor.

  If not for the young enforcer tugging his arm, he might have forgotten why he was there.

  “We picked up magitech sound waves—not the intense kind, but something felt off right away.”

  Timo hadn’t taken two steps when familiar voices reached him.

  The patrol guards from last night sat at a stone table, questioned by Iron Law enforcers.

  He recognized the squad leader—the first to enter the detention block. Behind him, the men who’d leaped into the ravine with Deacon Lan searching for Aunt Guo.

  One spoke while a baldy scribbled notes. Another recorded via communicator.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Yeah… when we arrived, that Zhao guy—”

  “Zhi Zhao! Sleeping on duty—I’ve always said those surrendered types can’t be trusted. Can’t even handle a simple watch.”

  “Don’t put it like that. Earth Mother was triple-essence peak! No way one or two Evil Cultivators took her down.”

  “Exactly. Triple peak—what does that even mean? I refuse to believe it without inside help. No signs of battle at the scene!”

  Their heated debate filled the hall.

  A white-robed physician hurried in, coughing sharply to interrupt.

  “Soldiers, if I may—Earth Mother was already depleted from rescuing those children yesterday. The medical division reported this clearly. Please… don’t spread rumors.”

  It was Physician Li. She’d been examining Earth Mother’s remains with Deacon Bai.

  Called by the adjudicator, she’d rushed over—cooperating upstairs until now.

  She’d seen the dungeon herself, witnessed Earth Mother’s absolute defense reforming amid fierce battle.

  “Fair point. We shouldn’t listen to gossip.” The squad leader nodded. “After arriving, we followed Deacon Lan into the ravine. We recovered Earth Mother’s petrified body ourselves.”

  “Wasn’t easy! Ran into bandits on the way back—fought hard. Two of my brothers got hurt, just finished treatment…”

  As the soldiers argued, Physician Li glanced up—and spotted Timo Yang emerging from the interrogation wing.

  Shock flashed across her face. She rushed over, concern etched deep.

  “Timo! You’ve been here this whole time?”

  He nodded, sorrow flickering in his eyes.

  “How could Iron Law treat a child like this?” she demanded of the young enforcer. “Bringing him in—don’t you need family consent?”

  The enforcer lowered his head, unsure how to respond.

  “Ghost Shadow answers only to the Elder,” the adjudicator said coolly, approaching. “Even I, as adjudicator, have no authority over the Elder’s affairs. Besides… Yue Yang underwent an essence explosion and entered the Trial Realm. We couldn’t notify anyone—we couldn’t find her.”

  Physician Li stared at the golden markings on his forehead, his stern face unwavering. She grabbed Timo’s hand protectively.

  “If he’s seeing the Elder, I’m coming too.”

  “Physician Li, you’ve served the regiment for years. You know the Elder’s ways. Even if Yang’s parents were alive today, no one could interfere.” His voice sharpened. “Unless… you fear the Elder uncovering a traitor’s identity?”

  Silence crashed over the hall.

  No one spoke the word “traitor” lightly.

  But everyone knew—they lurked among the ranks.

  And no one dared name them.

  At the adjudicator’s words, Physician Li released Timo Yang’s hand.

  Elder Bai had warned her: speak sparingly. Suspicion already pointed toward the medical division. She could only relent.

  “Aunt Li, please tell my sister I’m okay!”

  With that, Timo Yang trudged toward the conflicted young enforcer, looking utterly wronged.

  Under watchful eyes, he followed the youth out of the stone hall.

  They passed through carved corridors, climbing to the second level.

  Before ascending, the enforcer bowed slightly to the adjudicator, then continued.

  Beyond the second-tier chambers, the path led higher into the rear mountain.

  Stone steps rose endlessly. Air thinned; snowflakes began to drift down.

  They melted instantly in Timo Yang’s palm—a rare sight in Watch Territory.

  At a stone pavilion, the enforcer stopped, gesturing ahead.

  “The Elder is inside. Go on.”

  Timo shivered violently. What forsaken place was this—so freezing? He tiptoed forward, teeth chattering.

  The enforcer showed no discomfort.

  Ahead stretched a stone bridge. At its end, beneath the peak, stood a massive stone house—iced over, snow swirling around it.

  Fresh footprints marked the snow. Timo reached for his pouch to warm his hands—then remembered Aunt Guo’s warning. No snake skin. He crossed the bridge trembling.

  “Little one, quite the collection of treasures. Stop dawdling—my time grows short.”

  Halfway across, an elder’s voice cut through the wind—like a whispered secret meant only for him.

  Timo pressed on. Beyond the bridge lay vast patches of plants encased in ice.

  They looked armored in frost, yet thrived beneath—branching, fruiting, blooming vigorously.

  Closer now: a woman knelt before the stone house in red robes, barefoot, head bowed in devout prayer.

  A heavy “clang” echoed. The stone door cracked open. Ice shards tumbled from the gap, vaporizing into steam at the eaves.

  At the sound, the woman’s eyes snapped open—red-rimmed, murderous.

  Timo caught only a glimpse before an invisible force yanked him inside.

  Warmth enveloped the interior. In the central hall, a transparent orb rested atop a low stone pillar.

  The pillar rose from a pool where five-colored fish swam, faint halos glowing around them.

  “I know your curiosity burns,” the low voice murmured. “The Eye of Prophecy lies before you. One touch… and you’ll see the parents you long for.”

  Timo’s hand moved against his will—drawn by unseen threads. He climbed the steps, standing beside the pillar.

  He fought it desperately. Trust the Elder? His strength was nothing. His fingers brushed the orb.

  The world dissolved into swirling mist—an otherworldly space.

  His parents materialized like holographic projections.

  “Dad… Mom…”

  Timo resisted fiercely. But the sight shattered his heart.

  “Don’t trust anyone!”

  Yue Yang’s constant warning echoed in his mind. Yet now, his brain felt peeled open, exposed.

  Memories flooded out: kidnapped by Evil Cultivators, nearly devoured by the spirit lord. Earth Mother battling that same entity. Even last night’s dash into the wind snake nest for eggs—vivid as yesterday.

  “So… the Holy Domain’s envoy intervened. Let me see more…”

  Timo pushed back against the invasion. His resistance took hold. Images fractured—chaotic flashes of medical wards, bunkers, Iron Law halls, detention cells.

  Until Rui Guo hurled through the air.

  Everything stopped.

  Timo gasped, yanked back to reality.

  He whirled. A white-haired elder in a thick beast-fur coat stood by the window.

  “The day has come at last. Reborn from death, hope from despair, light blooming in darkness. It seems… I must accept this outcome.”

  Timo rose, eyes drawn to ancient tomes and scrolls lining the walls.

  He had no words for the Elder—nothing made sense. Tall and gaunt, wrinkled skin, yet radiating undeniable authority.

  The Elder turned, speaking toward the door.

  As he did, the barefoot woman entered—hair disheveled.

  “The answer you seek stands before you.”

  At his words, she swept back her hair, face twisted in grief and fury.

  Timo recognized her despite the state: Kai Yi’s mother.

  Why kneel here like this? He froze. Madam Yi always seemed untouchable—aloof, intimidating.

  Even her own sons feared her. Apprentices steered clear.

  Answer? It can’t mean me…

  Lost in thought, her voice snapped him back. Their eyes met again.

  “You’ve seen the events, haven’t you?”

  It was Madam Yi—Regiment Leader Yi’s wife.

  She’d been heir to the next Prophet Elder, but years ago chose to leave Iron Law and serve her husband.

  “This boy was terrified, but his memories prove it: Fan Yi was controlled by an Evil Cultivator. He struck Earth Mother unintentionally.”

  The Prophet Elder explained calmly, magnifying glass in hand as he studied Timo closely.

  No mistake—a mere kid with mental control essence. Worthy of his bloodline.

  Without that power, Fan Yi’s punch would have left no corpse.

  The Elder moved to a desk, opening a yellowed tome listing regiment leaders.

  His finger paused on Yuan Yang… Yuxiang Yang … Lingfeng Yang… Yue Yang… Timo Yang.

  Complex emotions flickered—memories flooding back. A faint, wistful smile touched his lips.

  “Found it.”

  The withered finger traced faded pages until Canglan Ji’s name.

  “Records state your mother, Canglan Ji, was discovered aboard a pirate ship. In battle, your father Lingfeng Yang was wounded. She healed him with her own blood as medicine. Quite the tale…”

  Timo had heard it before—from Aunt Guo. Young regiment warriors often hunted evil for merits.

  That was why the Watch Regiment’s banner struck fear into the wicked.

  “Father, you’re still the same—pretending ignorance!” Madam Yi spat, entering fully. She glared at the prophecy orb with scorn. “You should see the world outside! Magitech is eclipsing essence wielders. These ancient prophecies are nothing but your chains!”

  To her, the orb was laughable. The stubborn old man hadn’t changed in years.

  Hatred consumed her now. She’d knelt this long—not for this answer alone.

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