The sky was a deep, washed-out blue, white clouds drifting lazily on the wind.
"Clear skies over the region today! Perfect flying weather!"
The fox-eared girl at the Starskiff's controls had jet-black hair that fell to her shoulders. She gazed out at the clouds streaming past like flowing water and slowly pressed down harder on the throttle.
"Sky — here I come!"
The girl's name was Qingni, daughter of Yukong, pilot of the Xianzhou Sky-Faring Commission.
Her mother Yukong was a legendary combat-skiff ace who had carved miracles out of nothing — threading through dense Borisin anti-air fire like an arrow through a rainstorm, shooting down three beast-ships in a single pass.
Yukong also held the Sky-Faring Commission's speed records and kill-count records.
As her daughter, Qingni was enormously proud.
For as long as she could remember, Qingni had dreamed of one day becoming a legend just like her mother.
What she couldn't understand was why her mother refused to let her anywhere near a cockpit, when she clearly had talent every bit as sharp as Yukong's own…
It had been so long since she'd slipped away for a free flight. Qingni was determined to toss all those nagging worries out of her head and simply enjoy the sky.
Whoosh—!
Without warning, a Starskiff behind her came rocketing up at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"That speed — a real pro!"
Qingni, a girl who lived for flying, clocked it instantly, a rush of excitement surging through her chest.
"Lucky day! I sneak out behind Mom's back and I actually run into a kindred spirit…"
She snapped upright in her seat and seized the controls with dazzling speed, voice rising bright and sharp: "Let's race then!"
Qingni had been sneaking Starskiffs out and pushing their limits since she was small. She was deeply confident in her piloting.
The tail of her red-painted Starskiff erupted in a blinding white-hot jet of flame, launching the craft forward at terrifying speed and instantly opening up a huge gap between them.
At the same time she toggled the rear running lights to a flashing pattern — the challenge signal recognized among flying enthusiasts.
"Hm? No response. Not part of the scene… or maybe they didn't see it?"
Watching through the rear camera feed, she saw no answering blink. Qingni arched an eyebrow, easing back on the throttle to slow down and try the signal again —
— and then the projection feed made her eyes go wide, expression like she'd seen a ghost.
The Starskiff behind her was slowly starting to spin.
From a gentle roll it built into a full rotation, whipping up a howling wind — the craft spiraled upward, transforming into a tornado that tore across the sky like a meteor.
The shockwave caught her Starskiff and sent it lurching. Qingni stared after that twisting column of wind, slack-jawed — like watching an old beat-up AE86 take a drainage ditch corner at 180 kph on Akina Mountain.
Now THAT was skill.
"Do I… actually have any talent for flying at all?"
Her Starskiff gradually slowed. Qingni muttered to herself from the pilot's seat.
A thunderous roar rolled across the Starskiff Haven sky. Qingni wasn't the only pilot left stunned — the shockwave of that spiral launch drew a mob of Sky-Faring Commission traffic officers scrambling to give chase.
Not one of them could even catch a glimpse of its tail lights.
A few minutes later, guided by the coordinates Kafka had sent, a Starskiff pulled into a harbor dock — and Stelle and Caelus stumbled off it, leaning on each other.
"That — that was intense!"
The grey-haired girl had spirals for eyes and the blank, broken expression of someone who had been thoroughly dismantled, three tiny winged trash cans visibly spinning cheerfully above her head.
This was Stelle's first time getting Starskiff-sick.
She wasn't alone in that — even Yukong herself would've been sick after a ride like that!
Like laundry tumbling inside a washing machine in a tornado, the Starskiff's auto-correction system had been pushed to the brink of total failure.
"I need to refine that move."
Caelus's head was spinning a little too.
So — how exactly did Tai keep her balance standing on War Greymon's shoulder to pull off a combat tornado? By all logic she should've been flung clean off into the stratosphere.
"Caelus-cub, help me!"
Stelle tucked the Starskiff into her spatial ring before the traffic officers could tow it away, then threw her whole weight against Caelus — brain thoroughly scrambled — letting out a very Klara-esque wail.
"Sure."
Caelus swung a palm at her. Stelle immediately twisted to dodge — then both reached out by mutual instinct and clamped onto each other's cheeks, pulling hard.
"Ow ow ow!"
The doubled pain from their shared sensation snapped them both back to their senses instantly.
"Caelus-cub, which way?"
"Let me check…"
Caelus pulled out his phone and opened the navigation, turning his body to follow the map marker. "This way."
He swung out his yo-yo and leaped onto the wind wheels. Stelle clambered onto his shoulders with practiced ease, long pale legs locking around his neck.
"Giddy-up, horsey! Yah! Yah! Yeehaw!"
"Stop bouncing around, or I swear I'll drop you."
Bickering and jostling, Caelus followed the nav to Kafka's pinned location — a courtyard tucked into the old quarter, brimming with the lived-in warmth of everyday life.
The moment they stepped through the gate, they saw her: tall, radiating an almost unearthly beauty, purple-haired and immaculately composed. Kafka sat in a wicker chair, leafing through a Luofu fashion magazine with effortless elegance.
"Hey~ Kafka~ We're here~!"
That was the kind of dazzling smile that made March 7th's eye twitch.
"Mama~!"
Stelle — who rarely broke out the sweet and adorable routine — pressed down on Caelus's head for leverage and launched herself forward in a flying tackle.
Caelus, feeling the pressure on his skull, immediately ducked. With nothing to push off from, Stelle lurched forward in a panic, nearly face-planting — until Caelus snagged the back of her collar.
"Seeing you two so full of energy is a delight."
Kafka set her magazine on the low wooden table in front of her and smiled softly, looking over at Stelle, who was currently giving Caelus the full dead-fish side-eye.
Every reunion with this newly-reborn Stelle was a completely novel experience for Kafka.
"Mama, what did you call us here for? Oh — Uncle Blade's here too."
As Stelle and Caelus settled down beside Kafka, a man emerged from the small outbuilding across the way — navy-blue long hair wound in bandages, wearing an old long-tailed coat.
"..."
Blade was clearly not at all comfortable with the way Stelle addressed him. He kept his face blank.
"Uncle Blade, can you do that thing for us again? You know the one — five people, three conditions!"
Stelle propped her chin on one hand, curling up the corner of her mouth in a grin that practically dripped smug condescension.
"I'll record it and send it to Dan Heng as a gift."
Blade said nothing. The corner of his mouth gave the faintest twitch.
You're truly a wonderful friend to Imbibitor Lunae, aren't you.
Running into these two was absolutely the result of having accumulated far too much 'virtue' in a past life.
"Uncle Blade, you could at least say something back! When you just stand there in silence it's really awkward for me, you know."
Stelle scratched her head with a laugh.
"Could you be quiet."
Blade's face remained expressionless — the energy of an introvert disturbed by a pair of feral children — and he let a pressure radiate off him that would make most kids shrink back.
"Heh heh~ Uncle Blade, your undying body is no doubt formidable, but what if Caelus-cub and I wait until your guard is down, knock you out with a single swing, and then bury you inside one of the concrete piling foundations of a building…"
Stelle interlaced her fingers and propped her chin on them, turning to regard Blade with a perfectly composed, unruffled smile.
"Then encase you in ten meters of poured concrete until it fully sets, and sink you to the deepest trench in the Scalegorge Ancient Sea. What would you do about that?"
Caelus rested an elbow on Stelle's shoulder and carried the thought forward.
Kafka: "..."
What on earth had these two been through?
Why was it that Star-baby could say something that made even a 'devil' like her go cold?
Bladie truly wouldn't die — but that method would absolutely make death look preferable to living!
"Then I'll just kill you both right now!"
The muscles in Blade's face contorted into a grid-like '井' shape. He wrenched the Shard Sword from its sheath, his eyes going sharp and deadly, his voice dropping to a glacial, bone-chilling cold — like a predator that could erupt into violence at any second.
"You can't touch us."
Stelle was not only unmoved — she was downright smug about it.
Blade couldn't help frowning.
He and Kafka had watched the battle in the Scalegorge Waterscape from the shadows. These two unknown life-forms the grey raccoons had become were genuinely powerful — far beyond the level of an ordinary Pathstrider.
Perhaps they could actually kill him?
"Want to find out?"
Death-seeking Blade extended the invitation to the two grey raccoons.
Stelle: "Hmph~"
Caelus: "Hmph~"
They hmph'd in nearly perfect unison, with matching expressions, pulling up the corners of their mouths in identical grins.
The next second — just as Blade expected them to accept — both grey raccoons blinked to either side of Kafka without a moment's wind-up, and threw their arms around her legs, one on each side.
"Mom~! Uncle Blade's bullying me~!"
Stelle pitched her voice into a high, pitiful whine, eyes welling up with tears, the picture of an aggrieved child running home to mom to let it all out.
Kafka: "..."
"#&@%"
Blade felt a surge of boiling blood pressure rocket straight up through the top of his skull. He had hit his limit. He was about to go Mara-struck!
Schick—!
The crisp, clean ring of the Shard Sword clearing its sheath.
Kafka felt the terrifying crimson sword-qi building and stilled the hand that had been ruffling Stelle's hair:
"Bladie, [Spirit Whisper] — calm down."
Kafka had long since cracked the code for dealing with the current Stelle and Caelus: just treat them like toddlers under three years old, and everything fell into place.
The Spirit Whisper washed over him like a clear spring, dissolving the Mara-struck edge. Blade breathed in and out, slow and deep, settling the storm in his chest — and then he registered Caelus stepping toward him, black-red tachi leveled in his direction.
"Kafka."
Blade's voice ground out through clenched teeth.
"Don't get angry yet — I'm trying to help you. Do you know how Jingliu's Mara-struck state got suppressed?"
Caelus walked up to Blade with an easy grin.
"You did that?"
Blade went still, a slight furrow forming between his brows.
"Mm-hmm~"
Caelus didn't explain further. He simply called up the Jizo Mitama and Fenghuang Down from his Inner World with Divine Awakening active and ran a full Mara-cleansing treatment on Blade.
"..."
Blade sensed his emotions settling into a clarity he had never felt before, his mind — rarely — rinsed clean and sharp. He was silent for a long moment.
"…Nosy brat… thanks, kid."
The last few words came out fast, and he looked away.
"Uncle Blade, the brooding tsundere act doesn't really land from someone your age. I can only do so much — you should do what Jingliu did and take Sushang as your master. Learn the way of the Taixu Sword God and once you reach the Taixu realm, you can cut away most of the Mara for good."
Caelus put away the two Inner World Divine Keys.
Blade's expression shifted through several changes.
Take a master?
Sushang — Jingliu's master?
Taixu Sword God?
Cut away the Mara?
He'd been wondering why Jingliu's condition had improved so dramatically. So that was why. There was actually a sword that could cut away Mara?
"Where are they?"
If it could cut away the Mara — perhaps it could kill him too!
"Sushang is at our place. As for Jingliu — no idea."
Caelus shrugged. She — meaning Moonscar — actually did know, but wasn't saying.
"Mama, what did you call us here for anyway?"
Stelle let go of Kafka's leg and switched to hugging her arm instead.
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