West City, Count Gelindun’s private warehouse.
Security was tight.
Magic runes on the high walls flickered at all times.
In the warehouse courtyard, Count Gelindun lay back on an elven wood lounge chair.
He swirled the wine in his glass and blew out a puff of cigar smoke with contentment.
“Sandstorm? Hah.”
He snorted softly.
He could picture that silver-haired lunatic in the Administrative Hall right now, hopping mad from the lack of building materials.
Let her throw her weight around!
Let her humiliate me at that banquet!
This batch of Abyssal Obsidian?
That’s my first “gift” to her.
Without it, her bathhouse is a joke!
Delays on the project—let’s see how she explains that to His Majesty!
He was still scheming when a commotion erupted outside the courtyard.
“What’s going on?”
Gelindun frowned and sat up straight.
A guard rushed in, barely able to get the words out.
“My lord! It’s bad! The City Guard! Skullcrusher Gromm himself is leading the men—they’ve surrounded us!”
“What?”
The wine glass in Gelindun’s hand shattered with a crack.
Spilled wine soaked his boots.
Gromm? What is he doing here?
Before his thoughts could finish—
Boom!
The ground shook with the impact.
The door, reinforced with three layers of enchanted steel, buckled inward under the immense force.
The hinges screeched in twisted agony!
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Each crash was heavier than the last, pounding Gelindun’s heart into his throat.
With a final shriek of breaking metal, the two iron doors were ripped open and hurled into the courtyard, crushing a row of weapon racks.
Through the dust, a figure stepped in against the light.
A black gothic dress.
Twin silver ponytails.
Gold-and-blue heterochromatic eyes.
“Count Gelindun, your doors aren’t very sturdy, meow.”
Lilia’s voice was sweet and soft, but it sent chills down Gelindun’s spine.
He twitched and nearly stumbled.
“Lilia… you… what right do you have to break into my private property?!”
His voice trembled as he tried to maintain his noble dignity.
Lilia didn’t look at him.
Her little head swiveled side to side with curiosity.
“Nice place. Hiding quite a few good things, meow.”
Lilith followed behind her, face unreadable.
Behind them stood Skullcrusher Gromm with his giant axe and a squad of City Guards.
They blocked every exit from the courtyard.
“Seal this place off! Not even a rat gets out! Meow!”
Lilia waved her small hand.
“Roooar!”
Gromm bellowed, and the soldiers spread out at once.
Their weapons aimed at every guard in the courtyard.
Gelindun’s guards snapped to attention, raising their own weapons to surround Lilia and her group.
“How dare you! According to the Imperial Code, private property is inviolable! You are trampling on a noble’s dignity!” the guard captain shouted.
“The Code? Dignity? Meow?”
Lilia laughed, pulled the dark token from her bosom, and tossed it idly in her hand.
“By His Majesty’s decree, I am investigating Count Gelindun for hoarding strategic Imperial resources and plotting treason!”
“Now, do you want to talk about the Code of Law with me, or discuss how hard your skulls are? Meow?”
The magical script on the token glowed with a dark luster.
The word “treason” made every guard’s heart tighten.
Who could afford to be associated with that charge?
“Don’t listen to her! She’s slandering me!”
Gelindun finally snapped out of it and shrieked.
“This is a personal vendetta! She has no evidence! His Majesty would never allow this!”
“Attack! Stop them! Anyone who retreats, I’ll wipe out your entire clan!”
Between the promise of reward and the threat of death, the guards had no way out.
They exchanged glances, then roared and charged forward.
Lilith stepped forward, cold air gathering around her.
“Lilith, just stand and watch, meow.”
Lilia held her back with a hand, licking her lips excitedly.
It had been a while since she stretched her legs!
Watching the enemies rush in, Lilia closed her eyes.
Her fourth-tier Spatial Perception expanded.
Every movement, every weapon’s trajectory appeared in her mind.
She raised her hand and pointed a finger at the big man charging at the front.
“First Act: Turn on Each Other, meow.”
The man howled, raising his greatsword high over Lilia’s head.
The blade screamed through the air.
Just as the edge was about to touch Lilia’s hair—
The long sword abruptly changed direction without warning.
Shluck!
Steel bit flesh.
The big man’s eyes bulged as he watched his own sword plunge into the chest of the companion beside him.
“I… I didn’t…”
Before he could finish, his companion’s battle axe flew out of his grasp and thunked straight into the back of the big man’s skull.
His vision went black, and he collapsed.
In an instant, chaos erupted.
“Ahhh! My hand! My hand won’t obey me!”
A mage screamed.
His hands formed a seal.
The fireball meant to blast Lilia turned mid-flight and slammed into the densest cluster of his own allies.
BOOM!
Screams cascaded into a chorus of agony.
Panic spread like wildfire.
The guards realized in terror that their own weapons had become enemies.
Swords hacked at the men beside them.
Shields inexplicably blocked their comrades, exposing the owner’s back to another spear.
They weren’t fighting Lilia.
They were fighting their own weapons—their own allies!
Lilia stood at the center of the chaos, not moving an inch, casually waving her little hand.
With every wave, several weapons changed targets, creating fresh pandemonium.
Gromm and his City Guards watched dumbfounded.
Fighting like this?
This little terror’s ability… too twisted!
Count Gelindun stood on the steps, trembling, his face ashen.
His pride, his personal guard—slaughtering each other in front of him, falling in pools of blood.
He had lost.
He had lost from the moment he held back that batch of Obsidian.
Lilia grew bored.
She snapped her fingers.
All the out-of-control weapons clattered to the ground at once.
The surviving guards collapsed on the floor.
Staring at their groaning comrades and at the little girl who hadn’t taken a scratch.
They couldn’t even hold their weapons anymore.
Lilia padded forward.
Her little leather boots stepped through the bloodstains until she stood before Count Gelindun.
She rose on her tiptoes, reached out a small hand, and slapped his face—hard, over and over.
“Count, your dogs don’t bite very well, meow.”
She grinned, showing her little fangs.
Her voice was ice cold.
“Now, are you going to take me to see my ‘Abyssal Obsidian’?”