Back inside his estate, William unrolled the Fire Dragon Scroll again.
He read every line slowly.
Twice.
Three times.
Silver had explained the surface knowledge.
The dragon had mocked the deeper flaws.
He memorized both.
Then he closed his eyes.
Calm.
Breathing slowed.
The incantation formed silently in his mind.
Qi stirred.
At first—
Gentle.
Then—
Violent.
The air inside the room thickened as spiritual energy surged toward him.
It entered through breath.
Through pores.
Through skin.
For one brief moment—
It worked.
Then—
Pain.
Not burning.
Not stabbing.
Tearing.
Like invisible hooks ripping through his veins.
The qi inside his meridians twisted violently.
His chest convulsed.
He spat blood onto the floor.
Silver froze.
"Brother!"
William wiped his mouth.
"Again."
He resumed.
The second attempt was worse.
Qi gathered faster.
His seal reacted.
Ancient script flared faintly along his meridian pathways.
Pressure built.
His vision darkened.
Blood streamed from his nose.
Silver grabbed his sleeve.
"Stop! Please!"
He shook her off.
"I don't have time."
Her breakthrough replayed in his mind—
Her body floating.
Wounds healing.
Advancing.
And him—
Still trapped.
A tremor ran through his fingers.
For the first time in both lifetimes—
Something ugly surfaced.
Not rage.
Not fear.
Jealousy.
It coiled silently in his chest.
A whisper followed it.
You're falling behind.
A gunshot echoed in memory.
Agnes' voice.
Darren's cold stare.
"You lost once. You'll lose again."
His breathing turned uneven.
Silver's voice sounded distant.
"We can ask Father—"
"I said again."
The dragon remained silent.
Watching.
William forced qi to circulate once more.
The meridians resisted.
Twisted.
Collapsed inward.
Something inside snapped.
He coughed violently.
Blood flooded from his mouth.
Then—
Darkness.
His body fell forward.
The seal along his meridians pulsed faintly.
Stronger.
More defined.
"Brother!"
Silver dropped beside him.
Breathing steady.
Pulse stable.
But blood stained his lips.
Her fingers trembled as she wiped it away.
For a month—
She had gone to the King's residence again and again.
Each time—
"His Majesty is away."
"In council."
"In cultivation."
Excuses.
Always excuses.
But today—
She watched her brother vomit blood.
Watched him collapse.
Watched his pride crack.
Her jaw hardened.
"I will see him today."
The King's Palace
Silver knelt outside the grand hall for hours.
Cold marble against her knees.
Servants passed.
No one spoke.
Finally—
The doors opened.
King Midas stepped out.
She rushed forward and knelt deeply.
"Father! Please—I need the Spirit Beast Contracting Talisman."
The King looked down at her.
Calm.
Unmoved.
"I will not favor any prince before the Crown Prince Selection."
Her heart sank.
"But—"
He handed her a folded letter.
"For your brother."
His gaze hardened slightly.
"Leave. Do not trouble me again."
His voice was colder than Mount Eve.
Silver remained kneeling long after he departed.
Seventh Prince Estate – Night
Lamps dimmed.
One by one.
Shadows deepened.
Maid Grecia paused mid-corridor.
The fire channels—
Had been cut.
Her pupils shrank.
Too quiet.
A shadow detached from the darkness.
Steel flashed.
She twisted—
But the blade tore across her back.
Hot blood spilled instantly.
She staggered.
She knew.
Alexander.
She had been discarded.
She ran.
Not toward escape—
Toward the Seventh Prince's chamber.
The door burst open.
William lay unconscious on the bed.
Pale.
Still.
The assassin stepped inside calmly.
Professional.
Measured.
"Grecia," he said softly.
"It ends here."
The blade rose.
Silver was not back.
William was unconscious.
The lamps were extinguished.
And the night—
Had only just begun.
"Then let it end properly."
Grecia moved first.
A dagger flashed into her hand.
She pressed it against William's throat.
Not deep enough to cut.
Just enough to draw a thin line of blood.
Her voice was steady despite the wound on her back.
"If I die, secrets die with me."
The assassin paused.
Orders were clear.
Kill her.
Clean.
Silent.
But killing the Seventh Prince?
That was no longer an assassination.
That was war.
For one second—
He hesitated.
That second cost him everything.
The corridor doors exploded inward.
Silver stood at the entrance.
Her eyes were red.
Not from crying.
From fury.
She saw it instantly—
The blade.
The blood.
Against William's throat.
Something inside her broke.
No hesitation.
No scream.
She moved.
Not like a princess.
Not like a child.
Like a shadow trained on Mount Eve.
Three steps.
No wasted motion.
Her dagger drove forward—
Straight through Grecia's back.
Clean.
Precise.
The blade exited from the front of her chest.
Grecia's eyes widened.
Shock.
Regret.
Understanding.
Her lips moved slightly—
But no sound came.
She collapsed.
The assassin reacted.
Too slow.
Silver pivoted.
Her blade flashed again.
A horizontal cut—
Across his hand.
Three fingers dropped to the carpet.
Blood sprayed across the darkened room.
The assassin retreated instantly.
No anger.
No curse.
Only calculation.
Mission compromised.
He leapt backward through the shattered window and vanished into the night.
Silence returned.
Broken only by Silver's breathing.
She did not chase.
She rushed to William instead.
Blood still marked his throat.
Her hands trembled as she wiped it away.
If I had not gone to see Father—
If I had stayed—
Would this have happened?
Her breath began to shake.
Then—
William's voice echoed in memory.
Control pulse.
Control emotion.
Control blade.
She closed her eyes.
Inhaled.
Exhaled.
Steady.
William's pulse was strong.
His breathing stable.
The wound on his throat was shallow.
She relaxed slightly.
Then she realized—
Her hand was still gripping something.
The letter.
The King's letter.
For William.
Silver stared at it.
Blood stained the corner.
The royal seal remained unbroken.
Outside—
The night wind howled through the broken window.
Inside—
The dead lay silent.
And the Crown Prince Selection had just turned from politics—
Into blood.