Marissa Lin knew she did not belong on the wall.
She could feel it every time the fortress shook beneath another impact, every time the air carried the echo of steel and screaming stone. Vivian Li belonged there. Marissa, in the back of her mind, knew how great, how talented, how deadly Vivian Li was, but watching it was like watching painting or poetry. The woman’s calm, her lethality, the way she moved through enemies—she was like a devil dealing death.
It would have been majestic if it wasn’t so terrifying.
Lui Anmei wasn’t any less impressive. She belonged there too, all fire and motion, carving space out of chaos through sheer force of will and mana.
Marissa was neither of those things.
Her cultivation was refined and elegant. It had been honed for endurance, for control, for beauty and manipulation. Not for holding a breach against an army of demon-touched orcs, their demon-grafted elites, and the Sword Demons. She did not have the techniques for sustained combat or the raw force to survive in a press of bodies, cultivation, and iron.
That truth sat in her chest like a bruise. But standing idle while Crescent Hyr burned was not an option.
She couldn’t fight, but she could tell the tides of war. The fortress would not survive without help. The real kind. If they were in the Capital or even close to where people lived, they could call in the army with the bloody MageNet. Here, the Mage Net might as well have been a legend. No signal reached them here. No distress call slipped through the interference. The isolation was complete, and it was only a matter of time until everyone here was dead.
Unless someone moved.
The Princess had mentioned a relay—northwest of the fortress—probably the only chance to connect to the MageNet for leagues in any direction. The North Provinces were important strategically but isolated, and the infrastructure of the MageNet had been slow to improve and slower to adapt.
If they survived this, they really needed to fix that shit.
She searched for a map in the room the Princess had been staying in and looked it over. The map didn’t have a relay marked, but she had mentioned the general area. Marissa touched where she thought it might be. It was close enough to reach, perhaps, if someone was fast, quiet, and very difficult to notice.
Marissa felt the decision settle before she finished thinking it through.
She didn’t plan on announcing it or seeking approval. If this was going to have a chance of working, she simply turned away from the inner corridors and went to her quarters while the fortress still held.
She stripped away anything that would catch light or draw the eye. Jewelry was removed and wrapped. Silk was exchanged for layered cloth that absorbed light rather than reflecting it. Dark shirt and pants that did nothing for her figure were tied high and secured for movement, seams adjusted to avoid noise. Soft-soled shoes replaced ornamental sandals.
Villagers helped without asking questions. One bound her hair tight against her skull. Another wrapped cloth across her cheeks and brow, dulling the familiar lines of her face and breaking the symmetry that usually made her stand out even in a crowd.
She examined her outfit, considering what she was about to do.
“Thank you,” she said to the woman helping her. They bowed and left.
She took a breath and considered the skills she would be using. The Lin techniques were not built for duels or formations. They were meant for proximity, for moving through guarded spaces without disturbing them, for entering rooms that were not meant to be entered and leaving without memory. Speed without sound. Motion without presence.
Stolen story; please report.
Techniques refined for seduction, yes—but seduction was only the surface. Beneath it lay theft, infiltration, and most importantly, escape. Passing within arm’s reach and being forgotten the moment after; blending into the shadows and darkness. Surviving, when survival isn’t a strategy—it’s the goal.
Marissa adjusted her breathing, feeling the familiar patterns settle into place, and she cycled her mana.
As she turned to leave the room and head to one of the western outer walls, a hand closed around her wrist.
“Marissa,” Elisa said sharply, her voice pitched low with alarm. “What are you doing?”
Marissa did not pull away. She turned instead, meeting Elisa’s eyes with a calm that had taken years to cultivate. She projected an air of indifference—the type of calm of someone who had already accepted the cost of losing or living, depending on how you saw it.
“Leaving,” she said simply. “To get help.”
Melissa shook her head immediately, denial sharp and instinctive. “They’ll be watching every egress and ingress. There is no way anyone is going to get away from this fort. Anyone who tries to slip out alone will be noticed. You won’t make it past the outer paths.”
“They’ll be watching for soldiers,” Marissa replied evenly. “Runners. Messengers. Not a cultivator who is trained for stealth. I was scared before. But I am ready now. They won’t be ready for someone who knows how to move through occupied space without being marked.”
She glanced back toward the inner corridors. Steel rang against stone. Shouted commands echoed through the fortress bones. The dull concussion of impact reverberated beneath their feet.
“There aren’t enough people here to hold this,” she continued. “Not against what’s coming. Not for long. The wards will fail eventually. The Serrans can slow them. Vivian and Anmei can break lines. But this isn’t a battle you win by standing your ground.”
Elisa’s grip tightened, then loosened again.
“If word reaches the northern cities,” Marissa said, “if they know the Princess is here—truly here—and that Vivian Li and Anmei are with her, they will mobilize immediately. We aren’t talking a simple reactionary force. They will send an army, by any means possible. They will come in with full force. They won’t debate it. We need that. It’s the only way we are getting out of this alive.”
“And if they catch you?” Melissa asked quietly.
Marissa’s jaw tightened, just slightly. “Then I probably die. But at least someone tried to change the outcome.”
Elise considered this. “Okay. Then I am going with you—me and Emily. We will have a better chance.”
Fear broke through Melissa’s composure. “Absolutely bloody not! Over my dead body. Ethan would never forgive me if something happened to you.”
“You are not going to try to take on this—”
Marissa held her gaze. “No. I shouldn’t have let you come. You’re your parents’ only daughters and the apple of their eyes. Ethan loves you viciously. I couldn’t… I couldn’t look him in the eyes if you followed me and got hurt. Besides, you two don’t have the technique.”
The words were not sharp. They were not meant to wound. They were simply true.
“There’s a relay northwest of here,” Marissa said. “It’s where the main transmission line for the north runs. The Princess mentioned it during planning. If I can reach it—even briefly—I can get a distress signal through and maybe change the fate of everyone here.”
She paused, letting the implications settle between them.
“Once the signal exists,” she added, “they’ll trace it. They’ll come. Not because of me—but because of who’s trapped here.”
Elise swallowed. “Marissa, this is insane. You’re not a runner. You’re not a scout.”
“No,” Marissa agreed. “I’m not.”
She looked down at her bound sleeves, the dull cloth at her face, the soft soles meant for silent floors and narrow beams.
“But I was trained to move where I don’t belong. To pass close without being noticed. To enter guarded spaces and leave without leaving a mark.”
She lifted her gaze again. “This is the result of Lin family training. Not for this reason—but the same skill.”
Silence stretched between them, heavy and fragile.
Another impact shook the fortress. Dust drifted from the ceiling.
Finally, Melissa released her wrist.
“Then go,” she said, her voice unsteady. “And make it matter.”
Marissa inclined her head once. “Promise one thing if I make it back alive.”
Elise nodded her head.
Marissa smiled. “You have to force your brother to take me as a second wife if I save your lives.”
Elise returned the smile. “You know my sister-in-law isn’t going to like that.”
Marissa snorted. “She can blow it out her admittedly perfect backside.”
Elise wrinkled her nose. “That was gross.”
Marissa laughed and then turned and slipped into motion.
Her steps were soundless. Her presence folded inward as her techniques activated—not with force, but with subtlety. Guards passed without noticing her. Torchlight slid off her wrapped form. Where corridors narrowed, she became smaller. Where they widened, she vanished.
She moved the way the Lin family had always moved. While she lacked the warrior instinct, she still had the strength of one and the grace of a dancer. She could do this.
Behind her, Crescent Hyr thundered with war.
Ahead of her lay distance, darkness, and the thin hope that speed and silence would be enough to save everyone she was leaving behind.