Human realm
The High Court Mage stood in front of the portal, looking profoundly unqualified for this moment.
Just minutes ago, the girl had flung her magic into the sacred summoning crystal—the holy artifact, centerpiece of the arena, a relic protected for centuries by law.
And then she had hurled herself straight into the portal like a toddler with a death wish.
Now, the portal hovered calmly as if none of it had happened.
The king had turned to him just thirty seconds earlier and said, "Investigate the portal."
Investigate.
As if this were a normal day. A normal request. As if he had any idea what he was supposed to do.
What is there to investigate?! he screamed internally. What... like do I knock? Ask if she's coming back?
He gave the portal a once-over, then squinted into the swirling darkness of the portal. His hand hovered uncertainly at his side. The way some men hesitated before reaching into a fire.
Because that's what this felt like.
A fire of chaos.
The High Court Mage edged a step closer.
Then another.
Then leaned forward very cautiously, peering into the portal like he expected to see a sign explaining everything.
What he saw instead was a pair of enormous, pink, rapidly approaching eyes.
He didn't even have time to react.
Yao Yao's hand shot up on instinct, smacking straight into his face just before impact and shoving him backwards with an unexpected force. But she didn't land on top of him. Her legs buckled midair and sent her tumbling sideways. She rolled once before coming to a stop on her shoulder with a soft grunt.
The landing was worse than before. Her knees and elbows scraped hard against the floor.
For a moment, everything was still.
Then, from somewhere behind her, came a strained voice.
"I checked the portal, Your Majesty," the mage groaned from the floor, voice slightly muffled. "She's back…"
Yao Yao didn't move.
Her arms trembled slightly beneath her, sleeves wrinkled and covered in dust. Her breath was short and shallow, and her vision blurred at the edges. Tears burned behind her lashes, but she blinked fiercely, determined to suppress them and unwilling to let anyone witness her tears.
Slowly, she pushed herself upright.
Her scraped palms stung. Loose strands of hair clung to her face, and her shin ached from where she had hit the ground.
But none of that mattered.
Not compared to the fury rising in her chest.
Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the crystal hovering in front of her, looking completely innocent.
Then, with a quiet breath, she slammed her right fist into her left palm.
"I am going to strangle him," she muttered, voice low and dangerously calm. "With his own stupid, overly expensive cloak."
That glorified, pretty man had no idea who he was messing with.
Magic gathered at her fingertips, forming slowly into a small sphere of pale light.
From the center, a thread of water unfurled, rippling outward in widening spirals. The glow faded as the liquid thickened, layering over itself. The light vanished entirely into water, and what remained was no longer light at all.
A dense, shimmering orb now floated above her palm. Smooth as glass on the outside, the orb swirled with faint currents. A soft white glow pulsed steadily at the core, timed to her heartbeat.
She didn't hesitate.
"Yao Yao—stop!" Shang Zhao's voice cut sharply behind her.
But she had already moved.
Her palm snapped forward, slamming the orb into the summoning crystal.
Golden light exploded outward, threads of energy bursting like lightning. The arena trembled beneath her feet as the portal tore open once more, fiercer and wilder this time.
She crouched to leap—
And was yanked back.
Shang Zhao's arms closed around her waist. "Absolutely not," he growled, dragging her tight against him. "You're being reckless."
"Let me go!" she shouted, thrashing like a wild animal. "He's still in there!"
"You've done enough—"
But she fought like a cornered animal. She kicked and squirmed, shoving elbows and heels into anything she could reach. With a sharp twist—
She broke free.
Two steps forward, feet pounding—
Then the ground vanished beneath her.
"Brother—!" she cried, just as Shang Jun appeared in front of her, catching her effortlessly.
His hold was steady, one arm supporting her knees while the other embraced her shoulders. It wasn't rough, yet it kept her securely in place.
She struggled. "Let me go! I can—"
"No," he replied softly. "That's enough."
His arms remained still, like a wall that wouldn't budge.
Her voice trembled. "But I'm not spiritless anymore! I have a spirit now! And he came! You, of all people—you should understand!"
But he remained silent.
There was no warmth in his eyes, only the same quiet, unreadable expression.
It didn't seem like him.
It felt as though a stranger was wearing her brother's face.
Why? Why had he stopped her?
She wasn't spiritless anymore.
Shouldn't this be the moment he should feel proud? If anything… shouldn't he be the one to let her go?
But Shang Jun only held her tighter.
"I wouldn't stop her just yet."
The words slipped in like a breeze.
Rong Xi stepped forward, his usual graceful calm unshaken. He stopped beside Shang Zhao, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Lord Shang," he said lightly, "what greater honor could your house hope for than this?"
Shang Zhao said nothing. But his jaw tightened, and the faint crease between his brows deepened.
Rong Xi's gaze drifted to Yao Yao, still in her brother's arms, her dress scuffed, her eyes burning.
"A child not yet six. Opened the portal three times. Rewrote the array. Crossed into the realm and came back."
Then his gaze slid to the king.
"You remember the prophecy, don't you, Father? The one whispered by the seers at Selene's Holy Temple. The child who would command spirits unlike any seen before."
He let the silence stretch, deliberately.
"The summoning season is underway across the five kingdoms. So far, Aria had Shang Ying Ying. Lyselle—" he paused thoughtfully, "recorded a boy of ten summoning a spirit from the Senren Grove Lineage."
He smiled faintly. "A tree spirit line, known for healing... and ancient warding magic."
His voice lingered on the word healing before moving on. "But neither of them opened the portal. Neither crossed into another realm. Nothing else this season comes close to this."
Then, with a tilt of his head, he added softly, "If this girl is the child from prophecy... then she doesn't belong just to the Shang family anymore."
His smile faded. The softness left his tone.
"She belongs to the kingdom."
The words hung in the air, quiet but impossible to ignore.
The king's gaze remained fixed on the girl in her brother's arms. He had been present in this arena for decades, overseeing every summoning and reviewing each anomaly documented in records. And never—not once—had a child summoned like this.
She had opened the portal.
Three times.
Without conduit crystals. Without even any magical knowledge.
There was something about it that felt… incomplete. It was as if the rules governing their world had been changed in that instant, forever.
His expression was still unreadable, yet the weight in his eyes had changed. There was less disbelief and more calculation.
When he finally turned to Shang Zhao, his voice was firm.
"Let her go."
Shang Zhao drew a breath, then exhaled slowly.
"No, Your Majesty. I cannot comply."
The refusal cut through the air.
The king's gaze narrowed.
"There were no silver threads," Shang Zhao said. "No spirit name. We still don't know what answered her."
The king's frown deepened. "It came through the summoning portal. It responded to her magic. That makes it her spirit."
Shang Zhao stepped forward. "That may not be true. There was no silver thread of contract." His tone was even, but the tension in his stance betrayed his unease. "It's irregular and unprecedented. It could be something else entirely... possibly even something dangerous."
Before the king could answer, Rong Xi interrupted swiftly.
"Lord Shang, are we truly letting fear dictate the fate of our kingdom's greatest miracle in decades?"
Shang Zhao looked at him, his eyes narrowing with quiet restraint. There was a cold certainty in the prince's tone—like ownership, masked in diplomacy.
Rong Xi continued, "Or perhaps… the Shang house plans to keep her until another kingdom makes their claim?"
The weight in the air shifted.
Shang Zhao stepped into the center of the arena, placing himself entirely between the royal line and his children.
"She is not a miracle," he said, the words sharp despite his calm. "She is a child. And if she's touched something beyond us, then forcing it forward is how kingdoms fall."
Rong Xi's gaze sharpened, his voice still smooth, but with an edge that no longer hid the challenge beneath it.
"Are you defying royal command, Lord Shang?" His golden eyes gleamed faintly beneath the arena light.
Shang Zhao replied. "I am simply upholding my duty. To this realm. To its people."
"By standing in refusal?" Rong Xi asked, voice still light, but curious. "Or is this a declaration that your house obeys only when it suits?"
Silence fell.
Shang Zhao said calmly, "If this continues without clarity, without understanding…"
His eyes locked on the king.
"Then it will not be the Shang family that bears the consequence."
A long pause.
"It will be the crown."
That was the line that could not be crossed.
The king's gaze sharpened, his voice dropping cold.
"You stand before me and speak of consequences… to the throne?"
Shang Zhao's gaze did not waver. "I speak of responsibility. To the realm, not just the crown."
The king's jaw tightened.
"Then you leave me no choice."
He raised his hand.
The summons was silent.
But it was heard.
Steel boots hit the marble in perfect rhythm.
The guards poured in from all sides, armor gleaming, formation tight and seamless. Within seconds, the sound of marching swallowed the entire arena.
Yao Yao flinched in Shang Jun's arms.
Um—wait...
She twisted, trying to sit up. Her gaze darted between the guards fanning out around them.
"Hello? No—wait—" she blurted, waving one hand. "Hold on!"
No one heard her.
Swords unsheathed with a chilling hiss. Shields slammed into place. The sound rang sharp and heavy, like war drums in a silent room.
Her stomach dropped.
She only wanted to find her spirit and yell at his face. Not start a battle between grown-ups.
Is there really a need for weapons right now?
She tried again. "Excuse me?" she called, slightly louder. "I think—"
Metal drowned out her voice, the clatter of boots and plates and tension overwhelming everything.
The circle tightened. The Shang family stood encircled, the King, Rong Xi and the High Court Mage facing them from across the floor like opposing ends of a line drawn in the air.
In the final silence, Yao Yao slowly lifted one hand weakly.
"Sorry, um—can I just…"
Dozens of heads turned toward her.
She froze.
A beat passed.
Clearing her throat, she gave a sheepish smile.
"I was just wondering if maybe I could… say something?"