The night wind howled, sweeping across the cold stone slabs of the abandoned square, carrying with it the scent of decay and dust. Selya's ice-blue eyes, like glacial depths from the far north, locked onto Lian. Every word she spoke was a blade dipped in frost: "Give it to me. That stone does not belong to you."
Before the words had even fully left her lips—before Lian could react—she moved.
Hers was not the motion of a human, requiring muscular tension to begin. Instead, it was as if the shadows themselves extended. The darkness at her feet seemed to come alive, bubbling upward like boiling ink, enveloping her in an instant. The next moment, she was no longer standing there but had transformed into a blurred streak of black light, nearly imperceptible to the naked eye, lunging straight for Lian!
The speed was unimaginable, the gust of wind it carried sharp enough to sting Lian's fear-stiffened cheeks. He had no time to think; his instincts screamed warnings through every fiber of his being.
"No!" A hoarse, terrified cry tore from Lian's throat.
Almost simultaneously, Selya was upon him. She did not aim for his vitals—instead, her pale fingers stretched out like talons, wreathed in twisting shadow energy, targeting the hand Lian had pressed to his chest and the faintly warm Starfall Fragment hidden beneath!
The shadow energy carried a bone-chilling cold, as though it could freeze a person's very soul. Lian could even smell the musty, tomb-like decay emanating from it. Never had the shadow of death felt so real.
Just as those icy fingertips were about to brush his knuckles, something deep within Lian—something long dormant, nearly forgotten—was ignited by the extreme threat to his life and the resonance of the Starfall Fragment against his chest.
Not thought, not skill—pure instinct, rising from the deepest reaches of his bloodline.
"Hmm—!"
A faint but clear hum rang out. Centered on Lian's body, a halo of pale gold—like diluted starlight—erupted outward in a sudden burst!
The light was not dazzling, even somewhat dim, like a candle guttering in the wind. Yet it carried a purity and warmth utterly alien to the surrounding darkness. Like a fragile bubble, it expanded briefly outward.
Sss—
The shadow energy coiling around Selya's fingertips made a sound like water splashed on red-hot metal the moment it touched the golden halo. The twisting, almost-living shadows shrieked silently as if meeting their bane, recoiling violently.
Selya's movement faltered abruptly.
For the first time, her ice-blue eyes flickered with something beyond cold calculation—genuine surprise.
Not just at the unexpected resistance, but at the faint yet unmistakably pure stellar energy within that light!
Starlight magic?
The thought flashed through her mind. But how? The Morningstar bloodline had thinned to near undetectability. For an untrained descendant to instinctively manifest starlight as the defense was unheard of—even during the golden age of the Starborn, only those with exceptional talent could achieve such a feat!
And this power... it seemed to resonate strangely, however faintly, with the Star Core Fragment within her?
Lian himself was stunned by the sudden change. He could feel a weak current of warmth flowing from the Starfall Fragment at his chest, traveling along some previously unnoticed path through his body before forming that brief halo. He didn't even understand what he'd done—only that, for a moment, the threat of death had been pushed back.
Yet this fleeting surprise didn't last.
Selya was, after all, an experienced shadow witch who had danced on the edge of death countless times. Her combat instincts far surpassed ordinary humans. After the initial shock, the coldness in her eyes deepened—now tinged with something like... curiosity?
"Interesting," she murmured, her voice still hoarse and icy, but her attack pattern shifted subtly.
Though the sudden starlight burst had been unexpected, Selya instantly judged its limits—it was weak, more like a dying instinct than sustainable power.
She abandoned direct assault, instead beginning to circle Lian like a specter. Her speed remained terrifying, her form flickering between sparse moonlight and thick shadows across the square, making her nearly impossible to track.
As she moved, more shadow energy seeped from her body—no longer simple bursts, but taking on more agile, more lethal forms.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Solidified shadow arrows materialized midair, whistling as they shot toward Lian from multiple angles!
Lian paled. The golden halo had long since dissipated, the warmth in his body gone, leaving only post-agony weakness and the terror of impending death. Unarmed and untrained, he could only rely on instinct to roll and dodge clumsily.
Thud! Thud!
Several shadow arrows grazed him, embedding deep into the ground behind him. The stone slabs smoked as if corroded by acid.
"Stop!" Lian tried to shout between dodges, but fear and panting shattered his voice. He wanted to beg, to ask who she was—but Selya gave him no opening.
Her assault was relentless. After the arrows came shadow whips, serpentine and silent, slithering from ground shadows to lash at his ankles and wrists, trying to trip or bind him.
Lian desperately evaded, staggering around the dried fountain—his only cover. His coarse cloak tore in several places, revealing equally plain clothing beneath. His breathing grew ragged, his heart pounding as if trying to escape his ribs. The stellar backlash's headache and inner chill worsened, slowing his movements further.
The disparity was overwhelming.
Lian was like a leaf boat in a storm, moments from capsizing. Selya, meanwhile, was the storm's merciless goddess, each strike precise and lethal, as though savoring her prey's futile struggle.
Every shadow in the square became her weapon. At times, the ground softened into clinging shadow mire to trap his feet; other times, invisible psychic spikes shot from abandoned buildings' window shadows, leaving him dizzy and unsteady.
"Give up," Selya's voice echoed across the square like an icy gale. "Hand over the Starfall Fragment, and I'll grant you a quick death."
Her tone was terrifyingly calm—stating facts, not threats. This detachment frightened Lian more than any scream.
Gritting his teeth, vision blurred by sweat and tears, Lian knew he couldn't last. Death's shadow coiled tighter. Yet deep down, his will to survive—and the illusion of his sister—drove him to resist.
He had to live! Had to find her!
Just then, a shadow whip slithered past the fountain like a viper, lashing toward the hand clutching the Starfall Fragment!
Alarm bells rang in Lian's mind. He tried to pull back, but his body was too slow. He could only watch helplessly as the freezing shadow struck.
In desperation, Lian made a near-self-destructive choice—yanking his left hand inward while thrusting his right forearm forward to intercept the whip!
Better to sacrifice an arm than lose his only hope!
Crack!
A dull impact.
The shadow whip struck Lian's forearm squarely. Searing pain exploded—as if the bone might snap. Groaning, Lian lost balance, stumbling back until he collided hard with the fountain's stone base.
His sleeve split, revealing the wound beneath—a livid red welt, flesh split, blood welling rapidly.
Yet Selya didn't relent. To her, this was just futile last resistance. She blurred forward again, her other hand morphing into a shadow-clawed strike aimed at his loosened grip!
Lian's pupils contracted. Bearing the pain, he instinctively raised his injured right arm to block.
A chaotic, desperate move.
In that split second, the blood from Lian's wounded arm—agitated by his movement and proximity to Selya—spattered outward like crimson rain across the cold night.
A few drops landed squarely on Selya's outstretched hand—pale from the earlier starlight burst, not yet fully shadowed.
Another drop or two hit the edge of her attacking shadow claw, its dark energy radiating cold.
Blood and shadow. Starlight and corruption. In this insignificant moment, they met in a way neither could have predicted.
Time seemed to freeze.
Selya's movement halted abruptly. The ever-present coldness and killing intent in her ice-blue eyes gave way to something far more complex—utter shock, and an inexplicable, soul-deep... tremor?
Dazed from pain and impact, Lian only saw that her attack had stopped. Those frozen eyes were fixed on his bleeding arm—and the stark red droplets staining her hand.
The killing aura in the air dissipated, replaced by an eerie, unsettling silence.
Only the wind's mournful wail through ruins and Lian's labored breathing remained.
Those few drops of blood, like sparks on scorched ice, were shifting some hidden balance in the darkness—in ways beyond imagining.