Vivian
Vivian wasn’t entirely sure how they made it to Crescent Hyr.
The weather grew colder by the hour. The orcs grew bolder with every mile. They lost a few more retainers—some making straight-up suicide charges, overloading their cores and literally exploding on the spot. Chiron and Leiden laid several mana-plate traps behind them to slow pursuit, but even those bought only minutes.
What did save them… was unexpected.
A group of Green Orcs appeared from the west-north slope—not directly north where everyone had expected enemies to be. Vivian had no idea where they came from or why they were there, but they saved the entire group. The Greens were heavily outnumbered, but they fought like demons against the actual demons—the Red Orcs and Sword Demons pursuing them. That clash bought precious minutes and actually caused thier pursuers to pause in thie pursue.
Vivian’s biggest concern now was simply reaching Crescent Hyr and the fact that Emily had gone limp. She wasn't sure when it happened but somehwere in this flight she had gone limp. One of the younger retainers carried her in a half-cradle, staggering but refusing to drop her.
“Come on, sister,” Elise whispered, voice trembling. “Listen to your breath. Not much farther. Just focus. Just breathe. Stay with me a little longer.”
Emily gave her sister a smile that could barely be seen in the moonlight. "I kind of wish I was back a school."
Elise laughed a forced chuckle.
They continued to move.
“Princess!” Vivian called out, her voice cracking in the cold. “Anything on help coming and saving the day? Anything on the MageNet?”
Sophie was pale—unpleasantly pale—with sweat beading along her hairline. Not surprising. They had been running for more than six hours straight, all of them cycling mana through their bodies just to maintain speed. Continuous long-distance mana cycling was notoriously difficult, even for well-trained cultivators.
Sophie—just to Vivian’s left—shook her head.
“I can see remnants of a line,” she panted. “The magic’s reaching… trying to connect… but it hasn’t found a stable endpoint yet.”
She swallowed. “It feels close, though. The reach is strengthening. That means the crystal has found something to lock onto.”
Vivian swore under her breath.
Despite Sophie’s brilliance—her terrifying Insight—she was physically at her limit. Sophie was a genius tactician, but barely Tiered as a cultivator. Even with her clever trick of localizing mana to different parts of the body to conserve stamina, she wasn’t built for a sustained sprint through the Highlands.
Vivian herself was fine—she was a high-level Five cultivator, near the peak most humans ever reached. Anmei was fine too—stronger even than Vivian—running with frightening ease, her footwork light, breath steady.
More than once on the run, Anmei had tried to double back. To fight the orcs alone. To “hold the line” in a blaze of glory.
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Vivian doubted Anmei fully understood what that meant.
“I hate to be critical,” Vivian said, breath fogging in the cold, “but is there any chance we’re actually going to be able to hold these orcs off once we reach Crescent Hyr?”
Sophie nodded, though the motion was tight. “We should be able to. Crescent Hyr is one of those places time mostly forgot.”
Vivian kept pace beside her. “My understanding was that it was abandoned.”
Sophie pushed a damp curl off her face as she kept running. “It was a major trade outpost a century ago. Southern caravans and the dwarves of the Karakorak Mountains used it constantly. They built fortifications, anchoring glyphs for mana shields—it was actually one of the prototype sites for the Capital’s modern barrier spells.”
Vivian blinked. “I didn’t know any of that.”
“The dwarves closed their doors,” Sophie said grimly. “When the Karakorak clans sealed their gates, the entire trade network collapsed. Crescent Hyr lost its purpose overnight. No caravans. Few shipments. It faded into obscurity—only the stubborn stayed behind.”
She inhaled sharply. “But it’s still in wild territory. The defensive foundations should still exist—old wards, old arrays. And hopefully a garrison or militia loyal to the Empire.”
“And if there’s nothing there?” Vivian pressed. “If everything’s broken?”
“Then we improvise,” Sophie said. “And pray to the Moon Goddess—whose purpose we’ve apparently inherited.”
Sophie wiped sweat from her brow, breath still short. “There should be tunnels. Underground ones. They run beneath Crescent Hyr—used for smuggling during the Dwarven era. I studied this kind of architecture in my youth. Crescent Hyr was one of the case studies for strongholds that could support a potential rebellion.”
Vivian shot her a sharp look. “A rebellion? That seems like an odd thing for a princess to study.”
“It’s practical,” Sophie said, panting. “If you understand how rebellions take root, you know how to avoid them. Or infiltrate them. Maps shift—structures change—but the theory holds.”
Vivian hummed softly. Sophie was breathing too hard, too pale. Vivian had never seen her so disheveled. Sophie was always composed—in court, in strategy, in confrontations with senators and princelings. But six hours of hard running through unstable terrain?
This was new.
“If I’m going to keep helping Ethan save the world,” Sophie muttered, “I’m going to have to work on my stamina.”
Despite herself, Vivian smiled. “Probably.”
“And,” Sophie added, lifting her chin, “I need to get him to recognize me as his first wife. So there’s that too.”
Vivian nearly tripped.
She turned a murderous look on the princess. “What are you playing at? Are you trying to piss me off in the middle of a crisis?”
Sophie gave a lopsided shrug. “No. I’m telling you where I stand.”
Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “You will be Ethan’s first wife over my dead body.”
“Oh, Vivian,” Sophie said sweetly. “We both know that could be arranged.”
Vivian rolled her eyes. “Empty threats, Princess. You’d never risk the political fallout.”
Sophie actually looked thoughtful, which made Vivian want to throttle her.
“Hmm,” Sophie murmured. “I wonder.”
Before Vivian could respond, Anmei slid up beside them, expression bored and amused.
“I don’t know why sexy scholar-man would choose either of you,” she announced. “You’re both unbelievably boring. He’d have more fun watching grass grow, alone, in the woods with in his head in a vice.”
Vivian and Sophie both whipped their heads toward her. “What is THAT supposed to mean?!”
Anmei spread her hands. “It means that I—unlike either of you—actually have experience chasing and pleasing men. You two are toddlers when it comes to romance. Or seduction. Or anything remotely interesting.”
Vivian sputtered. Sophie choked.
Anmei waved them off. “You’re both attractive. Moderately. But attractiveness isn’t everything. Charisma matters. Competence matters. Experience matters. And honestly? You two walk around like chastity spirits with good hair.”
Sophie’s mouth fell open. “Chastity—excuse me?!”
“Anmei,” Vivian hissed, “I swear on the ancestors—”
Anmei smirked. “Don’t get jealous. I’m not trying to steal your man.”
She paused.
“Yet.”
Vivian and Sophie groaned in perfect unison—
—just as Crescent Hyr rose into view ahead of them, carved into the highland cliffs like a forgotten fortress stirring from sleep.