Seeing Duke Vennar persist in going his own way, Earl Harris stood up and walked toward the tent entrance, leaving behind a cold warning:
“Hmph, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Snake Eye is no good thing; cooperating with them will only bring us disaster.”
“I hope you won’t regret it when the time comes.”
With that, he disappeared from everyone’s line of sight, and Tia quickly followed him out of the tent, leaving the nobles exchanging uneasy glances.
Although there were other nobles who disapproved of Snake Eye joining, Duke Vennar overruled all objections, and in the end, Snake Eye became part of the Allied Forces, a contributor to overthrowing the Empire.
And precisely because of Snake Eye’s addition, the Rebel Army’s power expanded further, with many noble territories even surrendering without a fight.
Until they stood before the walls of Black Blood Fortress.
Black Blood Fortress was already very close to the Imperial Capital, yet they were halted here.
The reason wasn’t the fortress’s impregnability, but the commander of the defending forces.
The Empire’s Eldest Princess, Mephia.
She personally led fifty thousand Imperial troops to garrison the fortress, patrolling the walls day and night.
Her silver-white armor gleamed under the sunlight, and her sharp spear flashed with piercing cold light.
Every time she appeared atop the walls, the defenders erupted in thunderous cheers.
The Rebel Army attacked three times and was repelled three times.
On the last attempt, Mephia personally led the troops out of the city to engage.
She moved through the battlefield like a shooting star, her silver sword light tearing across the sky, slaying three Rebel Army generals and forcing Duke Vennar to order a retreat.
In the camp, morale was low.
Duke Vennar stood before the map, his brows tightly furrowed.
“The defenders of Black Blood Fortress are stronger than we imagined.”
Callum stood nearby, his voice low.
“More troublesome is that Great Princess. This isn’t even her true strength. If she goes all out, I’m afraid no one in our army can match her.”
Earl Harris said nothing.
He sat to the side with his eyes closed, as if resting, showing not a trace of anxiety.
Commander Pake was much the same, the complete opposite of the anxious Duke Vennar.
To break through Black Blood Fortress, their meeting dragged on until late into the night.
The Rebel Army camp gradually grew quiet, with only patrolling soldiers still moving back and forth.
Tia sat in her own tent, staring at the unsigned letter on the table.
The letter had been discovered at dusk, tucked under her pillow.
Only one line:
“Late night, the abandoned church east of the fortress. I’ll be waiting.”
No signature.
But she recognized the handwriting.
Mephia.
Tia’s fingers gently traced the characters, her heartbeat quickening.
Should she go?
What if it was a trap?
But if she didn’t…
After only a moment’s thought, she stood up, draped her cloak over herself, and stepped out of the tent.
The night was thick as ink.
She slipped silently through the camp, avoiding the patrolling soldiers, and vanished into the darkness.
The abandoned church wasn’t too far from the fortress.
It sat on a hill, its broken dome casting mottled, fragmented shadows under the moonlight.
Tia pushed open the half-closed door and stepped inside.
Mephia stood with her back to her in the church hall.
She wasn’t wearing that silver-white battle armor, only a white dress, her long hair falling loose over her shoulders, showing no sign of combat readiness.
Hearing Tia’s footsteps, she turned around.
“You came.”
“Why did you ask me here?”
Mephia smiled softly.
The smile was faint, so faint it was almost imperceptible, but in Tia’s eyes, it seemed gentler than any smile in the world.
Moonlight poured through the broken dome of the church.
The night wind rushed in through the shattered windows, stirring both their skirts and hair, producing a faint rustling in the silent space.
“Because I missed you.”
Tia’s breath caught at those words.
She turned her head slightly, avoiding Mephia’s too-direct gaze, yet couldn’t help stealing a glance at her from the corner of her eye.
Mephia under the moonlight seemed even more beautiful than usual.
But she would never say that out loud.
Letting out a soft huff, she deliberately injected a hint of cold detachment into her reply: “What’s there to miss about me?”
She crossed her arms, one hand unconsciously brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, looking somewhat uneasy.
Mephia watched her, the corner of her lips curling up slightly.
She took a small step forward, closing the distance.
“You’re my fiancée. Why can’t I miss you?”
“Fiancée?”
Those words made Tia’s heart skip a beat.
She instinctively stepped back half a pace, her back pressing against the cold stone pillar, and her voice involuntarily rose.
Realizing her loss of composure, she bit her lip and said, “That doesn’t count! We’re enemies now!”
“Are we?”
Mephia countered.
Tia took a deep breath, as if trying to convince herself, her words growing faster:
“I’m part of the Rebel Army, and you’re the commander of this Imperial army! Logically, we shouldn’t even be meeting in secret like this. So how can we not be enemies?”
At that, as if recalling something, her tone grew heavier.
The moonlight cast fine shadows across her face, making her already delicate features even more striking.
“Besides, our Rebel Army is here to kill the current King. As an Imperial Princess, aren’t you angry? He’s your father…”
To this, Mephia shook her head.
“If I were a commoner’s child, and he were just my father, I suppose I would be angry. But now…”
Her gaze fixed on a certain point, as if looking through it into a past long, long ago.
“Ever since I was born, I’ve never had a father’s love. Among siblings, there was only conflict. My feelings for them faded long ago.”
Tia fell silent.
She had always known there was no real family affection within the royal palace, but hearing it from Mephia’s own mouth still struck her deeply.
And after that shock, a wave of intense sympathy rose from the bottom of Tia’s heart.
She herself had fought tooth and nail to survive as a witch.
Hadn’t Mephia done the same?
The dangers within the palace were no less than those outside—in fact, far more insidious.
If she hadn’t learned to be cold-blooded, she might never have had a chance to grow up.
“Besides, the one sitting on the throne now is not my father.”
Mephia paused, her tone turning dangerously low.
“It’s just a demon wearing human skin.”
“What do you mean? Are those rumors true?”
“Yes.”
Mephia met her gaze and sighed.
“The reason I led the army to attack you was actually to stabilize it, to keep it from going on a killing spree.”
Tia froze, and almost unconsciously asked, “What do you mean?”
“A few years ago, my father sought so-called immortality, constantly searching for the ruins of deities. Eventually, he made contact with a deity. But it was after that that his mind began to grow chaotic, and he became more and more withdrawn.”
As she spoke, Mephia unconsciously clenched her fists.
“Now, aside from knowing he is the King, he remembers nothing else. He’s almost become a madman bent on destruction.”
“If we don’t kill him now, in a few more years, he might even forget he’s the King, forget he’s human. By then, it will be too late.”
Hearing Mephia’s words, a chill ran through Tia.
Deities—beings that ordinary people cannot understand or touch.
That the first witch obtained incredible power from a deity was pure happenstance.
Being tainted by a deity’s power and degenerating into a terrifying monster was the fate of most.
“So the Imperial army is destined to lose. You will inevitably march on the Imperial Capital. And when that time comes…”
Mephia paused, took a step forward, closing the distance even more, so close that Tia could smell the familiar, crisp fragrance that clung to her.
As she drew nearer, her voice grew soft, like a murmur.
“When that time comes, I will join you in killing that thing.”
Despite Mephia’s closeness carrying a hint of provocation, Tia stared into her eyes, pursed her lips, and asked hesitantly:
“Mephia… are you all right?”
Long years of enduring and scheming, all to kill her own father—such a burden would be hard for anyone to bear.
Mephia was still for a few seconds.
Then she covered her mouth with a laugh, lightly hooked Tia’s chin, and said in a tender voice:
“Don’t worry about me. To me, that’s all in the past. What I care about is the present, and most importantly… the future.”
The warmth of her fingertips was real and vivid, making Tia’s cheeks flush.
Mephia smiled softly, locking eyes with her. In that moment, the air around them rapidly heated up.
The evening breeze brushed past their ears.
Mephia cautiously leaned forward.
Tia’s breath caught in that instant, her mind going blank.
What… what was she about to do?
Was she going to kiss her?
Mephia’s face came closer and closer, until Tia could see her slightly trembling eyelashes, could feel the warm breath of her exhales.
Her heart began to pound uncontrollably.
Should she refuse?
She should refuse.
They were enemies.
They stood on opposing sides.
Besides, she was a witch—though Mephia didn’t know that yet, but…
Mephia’s lips gently pressed against hers.
In that instant, all the tangled thoughts scattered like clouds blown away by the wind, vanishing without a trace.
Tia’s body froze.
But only for a second.
The next second, she closed her eyes, reached out, and wrapped her arms around Mephia’s waist.
Moonlight quietly bathed them, draping a thin veil over their tightly embraced figures.
The night wind blew in through the broken windows, gently stirring their skirts and hair.
After what seemed like a long time.
They finally parted, foreheads touching, both breathing unevenly.
But tonight, this was only the beginning…