The golden barrier of the Valerius Tower did not just quietly fade away; it shattered like a fragile glass dome struck by a heavy iron hammer.
A massive shower of dying, golden sparks rained down on the empty, freezing streets of Oakhaven. The bright moon was entirely swallowed by thick, dark storm clouds that rolled in from the north.
At the main iron gates of the grand courtyard, the freezing wind bit deeply through the thin clothes of the defending citizens, making them shiver uncontrollably.
Lyra Valerius stood at the very front of the ragged defensive line. She gripped a long, slender silver sword with both hands, her knuckles turning completely white from the strain.
Behind her, the blacksmiths, local merchants, and low level cultivators of Oakhaven stood shoulder to shoulder. Their eyes were wide with absolute terror. They held old steel pipes, rusty shields, and kitchen knives, knowing perfectly well that they were completely outmatched by the incoming army. Yet, they refused to step back.
Beside Lyra, Silas Valerius looked like a man standing directly in front of a firing squad. He wore a set of high grade, enchanted combat armor placed awkwardly over his expensive, custom tailored business suit. It was a ridiculous and flashy combination that only a foolish rich man would think of wearing. His knees were visibly knocking together, and the heavy broadsword in his right hand was trembling so violently that the metal rattled loudly against his leg armor.
"They are coming," Silas whimpered, his voice cracking into a high, panicked pitch. "Lyra, this is complete madness. We are going to die for a pile of old bricks. We should have taken the private jet and run to the Northern Sects when we had the chance! Father is already hiding, we should be hiding too!"
"If we run, we die tired, Silas," Lyra said, her voice tight but remarkably steady.
She did not feel brave at all. Her heart was beating a frantic, painful rhythm against her ribs, but she knew the truth. If she showed even a single ounce of fear, the fragile courage of the regular citizens behind her would instantly break into pieces.
She reached into her pocket and squeezed the cold obsidian coin.
"Where are you, Caspian?" she thought desperately. "You promised you were fighting for us. We need you now."
A rhythmic, heavy thud began to echo down the main avenue. Out of the creeping shadows marched the front line of the High Regent's ground forces. There were two hundred of them, moving in terrifying, perfect timing. They wore matching black and silver armor that seemed to swallow the dim street lights. The sound of their boots hitting the ground at the exact same time sounded like the beating heart of a giant monster.
At the head of the dark group walked Commander Vance. He was a mountain of solid muscle, his face covered in jagged, ugly battle scars. He was resting a massive, curved great sword casually on his shoulder as if it weighed nothing at all. He stopped fifty feet away from the Valerius gates and looked over Lyra's messy, desperate group of defenders.
Commander Vance threw his head back and laughed loudly. It was a cruel, booming sound that echoed off the tall skyscrapers of Oakhaven and sent cold shivers down the spines of the citizens.
"This is it? This is the grand defense of the mighty Valerius family?" Vance mocked, pointing his heavy blade toward them with a look of pure disgust. "A little girl playing with swords, a weeping businessman wearing armor over his suit, and a bunch of unwashed street rats holding kitchen tools?"
He took a slow step forward, letting his dark spiritual pressure leak into the cold air. The atmosphere suddenly felt incredibly heavy, making it hard for the normal people to breathe.
"Listen to me closely, fools. I am Commander Vance of the High Regent's elite guard. Drop your little toys, open these gates, and get on your knees immediately. If you do, I promise to only execute half of you. The rest get to live in the deep mines."
Before Lyra could even open her mouth to reject the terrible offer, a loud, metallic clatter echoed through the silent courtyard.
Silas had thrown his expensive broadsword directly onto the hard ground.
Without a single second of hesitation, Silas ran forward, leaving his sister and his people behind. He fell hard onto his knees in the dirt, sliding across the rough stones until he was just a few feet away from Commander Vance's boots. He threw his hands high up in the air, tears streaming down his face in a truly pathetic display of complete cowardice.
"I surrender! We completely surrender!" Silas wailed loudly, shamelessly bowing his head so low that his forehead touched the dirty ground. "Lord Vance, your power is magnificent! I am Silas Valerius! I am the sole heir to the Valerius family! I have money! I have a secret vault full of high grade spirit stones! I will sign the deed to the tower over to you right now. My father is hiding inside, he will do whatever I say! Take the city! Take the tower! You can even take my sister, just please, please don't hit my face! I am highly allergic to pain!"
The citizens behind Lyra let out loud gasps of horror. Seeing the future head of the Valerius family fold like a wet piece of paper instantly destroyed their confidence. A few of the older merchants dropped their weapons, the clanging of metal echoing loudly in the quiet street. They began to back away slowly, the fighting spirit draining completely from their eyes.
Lyra looked at her brother, absolute disgust flashing fiercely in her eyes. Her blood boiled with anger.
"Silas! You worthless, pathetic coward! Stand up right now and fight like a man!"
"Shut up, Lyra, I am saving our lives!" Silas cried out, keeping his face pushed firmly into the dirt. "Lord Vance, I will polish your boots every morning! I will serve you my whole life! Just spare me!"
Vance looked down at Silas like he was a disgusting, crawling insect. He spat on the ground right near Silas's shaking hands.
"Pathetic. The Valerius bloodline has truly turned to pure mud. I don't need you to give me the tower, you little worm. I am already taking it."
Lyra turned to the panicked crowd behind her, raising her voice to the limit.
"Do not listen to him, and do not look at my coward of a brother!" she shouted, her voice cutting sharply through the freezing wind. "If you surrender today, they will strip your spirit veins and send your children to the deep earth mines to die in the dark! They do not want peace. They want slaves! Oakhaven is not their property to take!"
She turned back to Vance, raising her silver sword high. Her eyes flashed with fierce defiance. She tapped deep into her core, and a brilliant, beautiful silver light erupted from her entire body. She was a Silver Tier cultivator, and she was more than ready to die right here to protect her home and her people.
"If you want this tower, Vance, you will have to step over my dead body to get inside!" Lyra yelled bravely.
Vance's cruel, ugly smile returned. "Have it your way, little girl. I will mount your head on your own front gates myself."
Lyra lunged forward with explosive speed. The solid concrete beneath her boots cracked from the force of her jump. She closed the distance in a single heartbeat, her sword glowing with freezing, sharp energy.
"Valerius Falling Leaf Strike!" she called out clearly, executing her family's most famous and difficult technique. Her blade moved in a beautiful, unpredictable circle, aiming straight for the tiny gap in Vance's thick neck armor.
But Vance did not even try to dodge or step back. He simply let out a dark, mocking chuckle.
"A Silver Tier? You honestly think a shiny little toy trick can scratch a true Gold Tier master? Know your place, little girl."
He didn't even bother to use his massive sword. Vance simply raised his free left hand, his palm glowing with a sickening, heavy bronze light that smelled like burning metal.
"Iron Breaker Palm!"
Vance slapped Lyra's incoming silver blade with his bare, glowing hand. The impact sounded like a heavy cannon firing in the quiet street. The sheer difference in their cultivation levels was absolute and unfair. The silver energy shattered instantly into nothing. The terrible force of the blow snapped Lyra's sword clean in half and sent her flying backward through the air like a broken doll. She crashed hard onto the cold cobblestones of the courtyard, coughing up a small mouthful of blood as her delicate meridians violently shook from the painful shockwave.
"Lyra!" a few citizens screamed loudly, stepping back in pure terror.
Vance stepped right over Silas, who was still curled in a tight ball on the ground, and walked slowly toward Lyra. He raised his heavy great sword high above his head, aiming directly for her heart to finish the job.
But the blade never fell.
Suddenly, the temperature in the courtyard dropped so incredibly fast that thick white frost instantly formed on the iron gates. The freezing wind stopped dead, replaced by a crushing, terrifying pressure that made Vance's strong Gold Tier core feel like a tiny, dying candle in the middle of a massive hurricane.
The empty air ten feet away from Vance visibly shattered like a broken mirror. A glowing portal of boiling, white hot seawater tore open right in the middle of the street. The smell of the deep ocean and ancient ozone flooded the courtyard, thick and heavy enough to choke on.
Two tall figures stepped out of the boiling mist.
The first was a towering, massive man in scorched white armor. His hands were resting casually on the hilts of twin obsidian blades. His face was completely hidden behind a heavy, white steel battle helmet with a solid blacked out visor. No one could see his eyes or his skin.
But it was the man standing slightly in front of him that made Commander Vance take a terrified step backward.
This second man wore a long, perfectly tailored black trench coat that seemed to naturally absorb all the shadows around him. His face was entirely hidden behind a smooth, expressionless Frost Jade mask. Only his eyes were visible—piercing, electric white stars that held the crushing weight of the deep sea. Faint, molten golden lines of the Nine Dragon Lock pulsed dimly beneath the collar of his dark shirt, giving off intense heat.
The entire street fell into a deathly, paralyzed silence. The elite High Regent soldiers dropped their heavy weapons in sheer, instinctual panic. They could feel deeply in their souls that this masked man was not just a powerful cultivator; he was a walking force of nature.
The masked man slowly turned his head toward Commander Vance. When he spoke, his voice was magically altered by the mask—deep, rough, and vibrating with an ancient, terrifying authority that literally rattled the bones of everyone present.
"You dare touch what is mine?" the Shadow Commander asked.
To the terrified soldiers and the shocked citizens of Oakhaven, it sounded as though the Commander was declaring the entire city as his personal property.
But on the cold ground, Lyra felt a strange, impossible flutter in her chest. She stared up at the man in the Frost Jade mask. A mask can hide a face, but it cannot hide a soul from someone who truly pays attention. She looked at the broadness of his shoulders, the exact way he tilted his head, and the familiar, protective stance she had lived with for three long years. The magical voice was different, and the electric white eyes were terrifying, but her heart knew the truth.
Lyra's breath hitched. A single tear mixed with the dust on her cheek.
She did not shout it, but her lips moved silently in the freezing air, forming a single, quiet word meant only for him.
"Hubby."
The Shadow Commander paused for a fraction of a second. The electric white light in his eyes softened just a tiny bit as he looked back at her. Then, he turned his cold attention back to Vance.
"Take out the trash," the Shadow Commander commanded softly.
The faceless man in the white armor moved. It was not just fast speed; it was as if he completely deleted the space between them. One moment he was standing by the glowing portal, and the very next second, he was standing directly behind Commander Vance.
"Obsidian Art: First Strike." The armored man whispered the technique coldly from behind his dark visor.
Two streaks of pure black light flashed in a deadly "X" pattern through the air. Commander Vance stood completely frozen for a single, long second. Then, his heavy great sword shattered into a dozen useless pieces, and his tough Gold Tier armor fell apart like wet paper. Vance collapsed heavily to the ground, completely unconscious, his meridians permanently destroyed by the strike.
The two hundred elite High Regent soldiers stared at their invincible commander, who had been swatted down like a harmless fly. Without a single word, they turned around and ran, screaming and fleeing into the darkness as fast as their legs could carry them.
The Shadow Commander and the armored warrior stepped back into the boiling mist. The portal snapped shut with a loud crack, leaving the courtyard in absolute, stunned silence.
For a long, heavy minute, nobody dared to move. The citizens just stared in awe at the empty space.
Then, the heavy wooden door at the side of the Valerius courtyard creaked open loudly.
Caspian jogged out into the cold night. He was not wearing a cool black trench coat or a terrifying mask. He was wearing his usual, slightly faded grey sweater, covered in thick, dirty cobwebs and white dust. He was panting slightly, holding a broken wooden broom handle like a club.
"Hey! Is everyone okay out here?" Caspian asked, looking around with wide, totally innocent eyes. He rushed over to Lyra, offering his hand to help her stand up. "I heard a lot of shouting! The basement door got completely jammed from the inside. You would not believe the size of the rat I was fighting down there. It was huge! Did I miss the big fight?"
Silas, who had been curled in a tight ball with his face shoved in the dirt, slowly opened his eyes. He saw that the terrifying enemy army was completely gone, and Vance was bleeding on the ground.
Instantly, Silas leaped to his feet. He quickly dusted off his expensive suit and adjusted his silk tie. He turned to the crowd of citizens, puffing out his chest and throwing his hands wide to act like a hero.
"Did you all see that!" Silas shouted loudly to the crowd, completely ignoring his embarrassing cowardice from two minutes ago. "The ancestors of Oakhaven heard my prayers! I executed a brilliant, high level tactical surrender to stall the enemy, and my brave stalling gave the heavens enough time to send us a miracle! We are saved because of my quick thinking!"
The citizens just stared at him in disbelief, too tired and shocked to argue.
Caspian walked up behind Silas, tapping the broken broom handle against his own shoulder.
"Wow, Silas. Tactical kneeling? Offering to polish boots? That is some amazing advanced martial arts right there. Do you teach classes?"
Silas spun around, his face turning bright red with anger, ready to scream at the "useless" son in law. But as Silas looked into Caspian's normal, dark eyes, a sudden, cold memory hit him. He remembered the terrifying things Caspian had done in secret over the past few weeks. Silas knew, deep down, that this "weak" man could crush him like a bug if he wanted to.
Silas's mouth opened, but no sound came out. He gulped loudly, a fresh drop of sweat rolling down his forehead. He took a nervous step backward, completely terrified to cross Caspian.
"I... I have to go check on Father," Silas stammered weakly, looking down at his shiny shoes. He quickly turned around and scurried away toward the tower, not daring to say another word to Caspian.
Caspian smiled a lazy, knowing smile. He turned his attention back to Lyra, gently dusting some cold dirt off her shoulder.
"Are you hurt, wife?" Caspian asked, his voice returning to its normal, gentle tone. He looked at her broken silver sword lying sad on the ground. "You need to be careful down there. The ground is freezing tonight. You might catch a bad cold if you decide to take naps in the middle of a serious battle."
Lyra did not slap his hand away this time. She let him dust off her shoulder. She looked deeply into Caspian's eyes. She knew the truth now. The silly broom, the cobwebs, the lazy smile—it was all an act. But she also understood that if he was hiding it, he must have a very good reason.
She decided to play his game, but on her own terms.
"I was not taking a nap," Lyra said softly, her lips curving into a very small, secret smile. "I was just waiting for my husband to come rescue me from the basement rat."
Caspian raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He leaned in a little closer.
"Well, it is a very good thing that mysterious man in the cool mask showed up to help instead," Caspian teased gently. "Though, letting another man save you like that? I might get a little bit jealous."
Lyra reached out and gently straightened the collar of Caspian's dusty grey sweater, her fingers brushing lightly against the spot where she knew the Nine Dragon Lock rested underneath.
"You have nothing to be jealous of," Lyra whispered softly, her eyes shining with a new, quiet strength. "I think the Shadow Commander and my husband have a lot in common."
Caspian watched her walk away to help the injured citizens. His lazy smile slowly turned into a look of deep respect. The city was safe for tonight, and the High Regents had run away in fear. But more importantly, his wife finally knew the truth, even if the rest of the world was still blind.