All these thoughts left Timo Yang reeling, head throbbing. He sighed deeply. Only now did he grasp how treacherous the trial of power and desire truly was—like staring at an empty chessboard, no move in sight.

  “Princess Lulu,” Yue Yang said with unyielding authority, “guide the new king in fulfilling his first sacred duty.”

  She pushed Lulu forward, placing their hands together without room for refusal.

  Then she turned, a cryptic smile on her lips, and closed the heavy chamber doors.

  Only the two remained. Lulu blushed faintly, settling obediently on the silk-draped edge of the bed.

  Timo’s heart remained still as water. He stared coldly at her. “You impostor—if you lay a hand on me, I’ll kill you.”

  “My husband… how could I be false? My clan holds ancient secrets. Through our union, all will be yours…”

  Lulu’s voice dripped honeyed seduction as she slithered closer like a serpent.

  The instant before contact, mutation erupted. Her lovely face twisted; scales rippled beneath skin.

  Timo, prepared, showed no mercy. A spiritual blade forged of iron resolve burst from his palm, flashing like lightning.

  A wet thud.

  The head flew. No blood sprayed—only black smoke dispersed, revealing the grotesque fish demon beneath.

  A roar shattered the doors.

  Beyond, Yue Yang’s face turned utterly sinister, eyes void of warmth—only glacial killing intent.

  The princesses behind her shed disguises, baring fangs and claws, transforming into horrific humanoids.

  Palace guards were torn apart in moments. Even the disguised elder servant—Yan Tang’s form—collapsed, gravely wounded.

  Clearly, the Realm Breaker refused to interfere in the trial’s karma, reveling in its flawless illusion.

  Seven ferocious sea demons encircled Timo, weaving an energy net that sealed every escape.

  Yue Yang waved a hand. Invisible force pinned him. He could only watch slime-dripping claws rend his flesh…

  Meanwhile, in the forgotten lands, sunlight had fully vanished…

  Yan Tang hunched over his crippled form, turbid eyes fixed on the spot where his disciple had vanished. He knew nothing of the trials within—nothing of Timo’s deepest heart demons.

  Perhaps the boy would be trapped forever in that illusory cycle, lost to delusion… All unknown.

  Night spilled like ink across the earth. Yan Tang sighed long and low. Callused palms summoned earth essence against cold stone.

  The wall sealed, leaving only a thin seam. He retreated into cave shadows, merging with darkness—silent guardian of the return path, awaiting his disciple’s silhouette.

  Feiyu buried itself deep in a damp hollow. Until its brother’s scent returned, it would not stir.

  In the dark, its scales gleamed a deeper blue. A faint, persistent power gathered within—quietly evolving.

  Back in the Trial Realm…

  The world spun once more.

  Timo opened his eyes on the lavish bed, morning glare streaming through carved lattices.

  Everything mirrored his previous “awakening”: opulent chamber, waiting servants, soft voices beyond the door.

  Yet his true consciousness flickered like a candle in wind—fading. Only the obsession “break through” endured. Other memories washed away like tide-pulled sand.

  “Kill and they return. Flee and they pursue… What is real? What is false?”

  His vacant gaze drifted over the beautiful princesses awaiting summons outside.

  Suddenly, details caught his eye—especially the black-gold pendant on cyan-gowned Lulu’s neck, etched with twisted symbols.

  “The Sixth Element!”

  Lightning thought struck. Timo pointed sharply. “You—come here. Remove that thing. I hate that symbol.”

  Lulu obeyed, unclasping it. Timo snatched the pendant, hurling it to the floor without a glance, temper flaring.

  “Anything with that symbol—remove and destroy it all!”

  He commanded fiercely, watching Lulu’s reaction.

  The black orb on the table shattered under his fist. Vases bearing strange runes fell to his blade.

  No one dared speak as he raged. The princesses only grew more enamored, willingly discarding and smashing their accursed ornaments.

  Crisp cracks echoed endlessly. Multicolored flecks drifted in the air, chiming like distant bells for long moments.

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  This time—no mutation came. Lulu merely regarded him in puzzlement, eyes still gentle.

  Until Yue Yang appeared… the rite proceeded smoothly.

  The grand coronation unfolded on the majestic “Liancang Sacred Platform.” Timo, draped in heavy royal robes, moved like a puppet through every step.

  The crown of power settled on his brow. Myriad subjects cheered to the heavens. Yet he felt no joy—only bone-deep emptiness and cold.

  At the sight of masses kneeling, he paused inwardly: Why am I king of Liancang? These long-limbed people share no blood with me.

  He recalled Master’s words: he had once reveled in overlord status—yet mercy invited betrayal. Ruthlessness brought murder from those closest.

  “I won’t waste three years reliving it. If I glimpsed the Realm Breaker once, I can again. There must be a realm eye within the illusion.”

  Timo surveyed the crowd. Diverse yet lifelike. His bloodline must tie to them—ascension traced ancestral essence.

  Upon death, power returned to heaven and earth. What force was the Realm Breaker?

  Destroying the Sixth Element let the rite proceed. Was the Purifying Spirit Eye the next key?

  He looked to Yue Yang—proud as true parents.

  “My mother resembled these tall folk. Could she descend from Liancang? No matter—find the Purifying Spirit Eye first.”

  Leaning close to “Yue Yang’s” ear, he whispered, “Sis—take me to see the Purifying Spirit Eye.”

  “My king—the ceremony ends soon. Accept the gods’ blessing. All will be yours in time—no rush.”

  Her evasiveness only sharpened his urgency. Until celestial lights swirled overhead, a pillar linking heaven and earth bathed his jade throne.

  In that moment, his body lightened. Essence surged boundless.

  He glimpsed a suspended space in another dimension—invisible hands pressing his forehead, vanishing in an instant.

  - - - Defiant Flight - - -

  In the Watch Legion encampment…

  The apothecary of the physicians’ department was thick with the bitter fragrance of herbs. Yue Yang stood motionless, gaze hollow, as though her spirit had been hollowed out.

  Ge Bai turned her back to the girl, rummaging through shelves lined with vials, movements betraying suppressed agitation.

  At last she drew forth two bottles of radiant premium spiritual medicine and pressed them firmly into Yue Yang’s cold hands.

  “Go, child.” Ge Bai’s voice was low and gravel-rough, laced with unyielding resolve.

  “Leave this place—the farther, the better. Live for yourself, just once. These medicines will carry you through breakthrough. This camp… no longer has room for you.”

  Yue Yang clutched the bottles until her knuckles whitened, voice trembling. “I can’t. If I flee, the honor my parents earned with their lives will be stained forever. I won’t betray—”

  “Honor? Titles?” Ge Bai whirled, aged eyes blazing. “Those are vanities for the living! Dead is dead! Child, leaving to survive isn’t betrayal. The true betrayers are those who spout virtue while scheming in shadows. They have no right to speak of loyalty to you.”

  She slammed a cabinet shut; vials rattled in protest.

  A piercing eagle cry shattered the camp’s quiet—drawing nearer, followed by the thud of heavy landing and hurried footfalls. Batian’s massive form settled outside the department.

  “Yue! Where are you? I’m back!”

  Fei Yuan’s voice—bright with joy, urgent with longing—cut through the door.

  “The boy returns at the perfect moment,” Ge Bai muttered, expression conflicted. She leaned close to Yue Yang. “Your future is yours to seize. Remember—wherever you go, never forget you are a physician. Healing is your calling.”

  The door burst open.

  Fei Yuan strode in, dust of the road clinging to him. His eyes found Yue Yang instantly; a radiant smile lit his face.

  In strides he reached her, sweeping her off her feet in a fierce, spinning embrace.

  “Yue! Finally—the Elder relents! I’ve spoken to Regiment Commander Yi. Tomorrow we can—”

  “Naive.” Ge Bai’s icy voice doused his elation like cold water.

  She fixed him with a steely gaze. “Did Commander Yi not tell you? Your Yue has been decreed by the Prophet’s Eye as alliance princess. In three days she weds the Fire Essence prince. We three deacons witnessed the oracle ourselves.”

  Fei Yuan’s smile froze, as though struck by an unseen blow.

  He stared at Yue Yang in disbelief—confirmed by the sorrow and resignation in her eyes. Rage ignited, roaring through his veins.

  “The legion… casts her out? Fine. Splendid.”

  His voice rasped with fury. He seized her wrist—grip tight enough to make her wince—and pulled her toward the door.

  “My Yuan and Guo families have bled generations for this legion—loyal to the marrow. This is our reward—selling my woman? Come. We stay no longer in this cursed place.”

  Yue Yang felt the burning warmth of his hand. Long-buried grievances dissolved into silent tears. She did not resist, letting him lead her swiftly from the department and onto Batian’s broad back.

  The thunder eagle bore them aloft like gray lightning, piercing the heavy night and leaving the Watch Legion far behind.

  Below, Zhi Zhao and the supply team caught only Batian’s vanishing afterimage.

  Soon Fei Yuan’s cold message crackled over comms: “Do not search. The Elder trades Yue for alliance. We leave forever. Farewell.”

  Signal cut dead. Zhi Zhao gazed skyward and raised a silent thumb.

  High in the judgment hall, the Tianjiao Elder watched impassively. Fei Yuan’s defection had been anticipated.

  Cold light flashed in her eyes. She nodded faintly to Lei Tang beside her. He understood, leading two expressionless, shaven-headed Iron Code enforcers aboard a magical flyer marked with the Prophet’s Eye. They ghosted into pursuit.

  In the night sky, stars hung close enough to touch. Yue Yang clung tightly to Fei Yuan’s solid back, wind whipping her hair. Despair yielded, for a moment, to fragile peace.

  “Yue… these years have wronged you.” His voice softened amid the rush of air. “Tell me—where do you want to go? Ends of the earth, I’ll follow.”

  “I want… to see the sea.” Her voice drifted, distant. “Mother said her homeland lay deep beneath the waves. She told me… the Purifying Spirit Eye would guide me home.”

  Her arms tightened around his waist, clinging like driftwood in storm.

  “Good. Then we find the Water Essence Nation. Batian—course for the Cloud Sea frontier!”

  A triumphant cry answered. Wings beat fierce winds; the eagle dove, landing steadily beside a quiet coastal fishing village.

  Yet Batian stared at the shimmering sea, unwilling to leave, throat rumbling with longing.

  “The beast’s starving,” Fei Yuan chuckled, patting its neck. “I’ll buy fish from the villagers. Batian—guard Yue well.”

  “No need.” Yue Yang smiled faintly, eyes flashing deep blue.

  She extended a slender hand, summoning water essence. With a gentle pull toward the calm surface—

  Waves stirred as if by invisible command. A small crest rose precisely, flinging several leaping fish onto the sand with wet slaps.

  Batian pounced joyfully, devouring them, even chasing retreating waves in play.

  One after another until sated, it settled beside them like an oversized, contented hound—burping softly.

  Fei Yuan and Yue Yang sat side by side on the soft sand, gazing at starlight mirrored on the glassy sea.

  “Yue,” Fei Yuan said gravely, “from now on—wherever you are is my home. See what I brought you.”

  From his breast he drew a velvet pouch, tipping out a dove-egg-sized pearl—crystal clear, radiating soft blue light.

  Yue Yang accepted it reverently. Its warm touch and swirling inner mist drew a gasp.

  “Tears of the Water God… the treasure said to raise the dead. Keep it—you need it more. As long as I draw breath, this physician can pull herself back.”

  “Who says it must save lives?” Fei Yuan enclosed her hand—and the pearl—in his broad palm, gazing deeply.

  “To me, you are this pearl—my reason for surviving, for growing stronger all these years. I dreamed of a grand wedding—drums and banners, the whole legion celebrating. But now…”

  His voice cracked with regret and bitterness. Countless wounds, brushes with death—all to earn rank enough for a blessed union witnessed by thousands.

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