"N-No... don't..."
"AAAAAAHHHH—!!!"
Jingliu was overcome—wailing in anguish as a lantern show of her past flashed violently before her eyes.
This was the onset of mara.
And now, she was struggling, fighting desperately against the maddening whispers of her memories, trying not to completely succumb to the curse.
Yuki shook his head helplessly. He blurred and appeared instantly beside her.
Just as he reached out, Jingliu's head snapped up. Her blindfold had fallen away, revealing crimson eyes like rubies. But now, those eyes burned with pure madness and bloodlust.
"HAHAHAHA!!!"
"Are you here to kill me too?!"
"Then try! See if you can!"
"HAHAHA!!!"
She lunged, one hand grabbing for the ice greatsword in Yuki's grip. The other hand produced a short blade from somewhere and stabbed directly toward his eyes.
She was fast—but not fast enough.
Yuki's expression remained perfectly calm, albeit mildly exasperated. With flawless control, he delivered a precise, gentle chop to the back of her neck.
Jingliu let out a soft cry of pain, then collapsed, completely unconscious.
"Seriously. I just mention the word 'mara' and she immediately goes into a full outbreak?"
"It's easier than turning on a faucet. Like flipping a switch," Yuki complained internally.
Looking down at Jingliu on the frozen rooftop, he bent down and lifted her into his arms. Then he vanished into thin air.
Five minutes had passed since Yuki left.
March 7th and Himeko waited in the inn, keeping watch while chatting. Then Yuki reappeared—and they both relaxed.
"Yuki! You're back!" March greeted him happily.
Then she saw the woman in his arms. Her smile immediately froze.
Himeko's expression shifted too, turning unusually frosty.
"W-Who is she?!"
"Why did you bring back some strange woman?!"
"You jerk!"
March's heart clenched. Her voice trembled as she pointed at the unknown beauty in his arms. Finally, she huffed an insult. Eyes wide, she glared at Yuki and the mysterious woman.
Himeko, though less dramatic, stood silently, clearly waiting for an explanation.
Yuki rolled his eyes at the two jealous women. He tossed Jingliu's ice sword aside and gently laid her on the long sofa.
March watched his tender movements, her pout growing so pronounced you could hang a lantern from it.
Only after he had settled Jingliu and sat down to explain did she drop the obvious jealousy. Through his account, March and Himeko learned the swordswoman's identity and what had just transpired on the rooftop.
Meanwhile, across the city, at the platform where the Astral Express was docked.
A massive crowd had gathered. Their uniforms varied in color but shared the exact same style—and the same tree motif on the chest.
High Priest Marki emerged from the throng. He gazed at the legendary train, his eyes gleaming with unbridled greed.
"Who would have thought? The famed Astral Express, sailing the stars once again."
"And by sheer chance, it comes directly to us." His voice trembled with excitement.
"A gift delivered right to our doorstep—how could we possibly refuse?"
"Come, faithful! Board the train with me!"
"This legendary vessel, renowned across the universe, isn't something you see every day. Let's go have a look!"
The High Priest waved his hand grandly and led the crowd toward the Astral Express.
One puzzled follower asked, "High Priest! You're interested in this train?"
"Sure, the Express is famous—it can traverse the cosmos freely. But our warships can do that too. Why go through the trouble of seizing this old relic?"
Their purpose here wasn't a simple tour. They intended to board the Express and seize complete control. That was their real goal.
"Ah, you don't understand," the High Priest shook his head, gazing hungrily at the train.
"Yes, our warships can match the Express in function. But there's one key difference." He smiled mysteriously.
"What's that?" the follower pressed eagerly.
"The alert levels of other civilizations," the High Priest explained slowly. "Imagine: a civilization sees the Astral Express approaching. Then imagine they see one of our warships. What is the difference in their reaction?"
At the hint, understanding dawned on the follower's face.
"I understand!"
"The Astral Express has a reputation, sure—but most see it as a vessel for brave explorers and adventurers. Civilizations won't be on high alert."
"Our warships are different. The infamy of the Denizens of Abundance precedes us—everyone knows our name. To them, we are plunderers. We bring war. So they'll immediately be on high alert."
"Exactly." The High Priest nodded approvingly.
"With the Express, we can send advance scouts to the planets we target. Under the guise of the Nameless, they can get close to the planetary leadership. They can work from within while we strike from without."
"It makes them infinitely easier to conquer. Easier to spread the Gospel of Sanctus Medicus. Repeat this enough, and the entire universe becomes our domain!" He painted his grand, fanatical vision.
Hearing this, the followers knelt in deep admiration.
But then—a discordant laugh, dripping with absolute mockery, cut through the night air.
"Heehee haha!"
"What a bunch of ridiculous, blind idiots!"
"You actually dare lay your hands on this train?"
"Oh, I'm so happy for your pathetic little lives."
"Heehee, but!"
"Fools like you? You provide plenty of entertainment. Maybe not as good as the clowns sweating on a real stage, but you'll do fine as third-rate buffoons!"
"HAHAHA!!!"
The Denizens of Abundance froze, looking around frantically for the source of the voice.
"Who?!"
"Who dares mock the children of Yaoshi?! Calling us clowns?!"
"You'll pay for this!"
"Yeah! You'll pay!"
The crowd erupted, utterly furious, ready to tear the unseen speaker apart.