Snow fell like shattered jade on the rooftop, wind whipping snowflakes against his face, sharp and biting cold.
Shi Jin crouched on the ridge with the Enma Blade slung over his back, his black robe pressed tight against his spine by the north wind, outlining his stiff, tense shoulders.
He lifted a hand and pulled a necklace from his collar; the cold metal dug into his palm, his fingertips rubbing the pattern over and over.
The moment he closed his eyes, the necklace burned hot. A faint wisp of energy climbed up his arm, locking firmly onto the depths of the city-state.
He opened his eyes. The mixed-blood city through the snow curtain lay like a silent, dormant beast. The familiarity in that energy made his throat move slightly.
The wind on the rooftop suddenly grew heavy, as if a huge black jade hammer pressed down over the city. Even the snowflakes froze, hanging stiff in midair.
Shi Jin stood, blade on his back. His black robe did not move in the stilled wind.
He clenched the burning necklace in his hand. That familiar aura was suddenly seized, violently contracted — and in the distance, a short, sharp sound of metal snapping rang out.
Snow blurred the city's outline. Black jade-like clouds hung low, ready to collapse. The stench in the air was thick enough to drown in; every breath hurt like ice shards in the throat.
The burn of the necklace turned sharp. Shi Jin tapped the tiles with his toe, shooting forth like a bolt of black lightning. In the next instant, he landed before the demon café on the corner.
Beneath the black clouds, the café's warm light blotted out a small halo in the snow fog. The wind jangled the doorbell wildly, yet could not drown out the faint murmurs inside.
He pushed the door open, shutting out the storm. Warm yellow light filled the space, yet could not chase away the heaviness in the air.
Shi Jin's gaze passed the steaming coffee pot and landed on the figure by the window.
The man's fingers twirled a long‑handled artifact: its shaft brownish-yellow, wrapped in circular patterns, glowing with faint golden light — Red Sand.
At almost the same moment, the man looked up. His pupils reflected the Enma Blade behind Shi Jin.
The two artifacts hummed low in unison.
A coffee cup on the table clinked. A few drops of brown liquid splashed onto the wood, quickly spreading.
The man by the window shot to his feet, gripping Red Sand tightly. The circular patterns on the shaft burst into blinding gold light, dimming even the warm lamplight.
He took half a step forward, staring down at Shi Jin's scabbard, his knuckles white with force. His voice trembled with disbelief and suppressed rage:
"That blade on your back — it's the demon clan's national treasure, the Enma Blade! The one that fell with the first Demon Lord five thousand years ago!"
The necklace in Shi Jin's hand still burned. He glanced at the coffee stain on the table corner and slowly shook his head, his voice very low:
"You're mistaken. It's only a replica."
He paused deliberately, then lifted his eyes, calm and empty.
"It's not the one you speak of. Sit. Let's talk."
The man's grip on Red Sand tightened. The golden light at the tip dazzled the eyes, yet he did not attack immediately.
Shi Jin pulled out the opposite chair and sat. His knuckles tapped the table lightly:
"What do you think of the Demon Lord's plan? He intends to take this mixed-blood city-state, correct?"
The man's hand did not relax. Red Sand's gold light flickered. Killing intent boiled inside him — fake or not, the national treasure lost five thousand years ago was right before him. Kill this man, and the blade would be his.
He looked down, hiding his cruelty, his voice cold and hard:
"So what if I am? An outsider with a replica — who are you to meddle?"
His hand holding Red Sand suddenly stilled. The gold light vanished at once.
A dark figure slipped out from the kitchen, tiptoeing to his ear, whispering urgently:
"General, remember the defense layout mission. Don't get sidetracked."
The Red Sand Wielder's eyes flickered. He suppressed his killing intent and slowly loosened his grip. Red Sand thudded against the floor, its golden patterns disappearing completely.
He sat back down, his gaze sweeping coldly over Shi Jin, each word icy:
"This has nothing to do with you. Take your replica and get out."
Shi Jin's fingers stroked the table edge. His gaze fell on Red Sand planted on the floor, and he suddenly chuckled lowly:
"Get out? I'm not leaving."
He straightened slowly. The Enma Blade behind him seemed to respond; a wisp of pale black energy seeped from the scabbard's edge.
"How goes your investigation of this city's defenses?"
The Red Sand Wielder's head snapped up. Red Sand hummed and glowed again:
"How do you know we're investigating the defenses?!"
Shi Jin did not answer. Instead, he leaned forward, his voice even deeper:
"When will the Demon Lord's army arrive? Have you found the weakness in the mixed-blood city's barrier?"
The man's face darkened completely. His hand pressed on Red Sand's head, gold light threatening to break through the warm glow:
"Who exactly are you?!"
Black energy curled from Shi Jin's fingers along the table edge, his voice ice-cold:
"Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is — do you really think this little force can break the barrier?"
The Red Sand Wielder's knuckles whitened again. Red Sand blazed with golden light:
"Cut the nonsense! What do you want?!"
Shi Jin suddenly leaned back in his chair, the corner of his mouth tugging into a cold smile:
"I want to see if the Demon Lord's great general only knows how to cower and tremble in a café."
The Red Sand Wielder slammed the table. The coffee cup clattered over, brown liquid spilling across the floor:
"Tremble? When my army arrives, this city won't even leave ash!"
Shi Jin's eyes turned frigid. The black energy around the Enma Blade exploded, almost solidifying:
"Oh? Then why not test it now — is your Red Sand faster… or my 'replica' blade?"
The man's hand began to shake. The figure in the kitchen tried to emerge, but was waved back with a single glare.
He took a deep breath, loosened his hand from the table, and stroked Red Sand's patterns. The gold light gradually receded into the shaft.
"You're trying to buy time?" He looked up at Shi Jin, his fire compressed into gloom. "The Demon Lord's plan won't change because of an outsider."
Shi Jin looked at the dimmed Red Sand and suddenly laughed lightly, his tone laced with faint mockery:
"All these years, I thought Artifact Wielders lived for themselves. To think you enlisted in the demon army."
The Red Sand Wielder's body stiffened almost imperceptibly. His grip tightened again, knuckles white, yet his eyes locked onto Shi Jin even more coldly, as if piercing him to the bone.
His throat moved. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, his secret laid bare:
"How do you know I'm not living for myself?"
Shi Jin suddenly called toward the bar:
"Waiter, two coffees."
He gestured to the opposite seat. "Sit and talk."
The Red Sand Wielder stared at him for several seconds. Red Sand tapped lightly on the floor. At last, he pulled out the chair and sat, his back still rigidly straight.
Coffee was soon served, steam fogging the space between them.
Shi Jin stirred his cup gently with a spoon and spoke abruptly:
"Your way of living for yourself… is helping the Demon Lord destroy this city?"
The café door opened. The bell jingled softly.
A girl of twelve or thirteen stepped in.
Her ashen-white side ponytail faded into pale green at the ends. A fresh green leaf clipped her hair. Pointed ears peeked through her locks.
Her eyes were green, bright as morning dew, her pupils shaped like four‑leaf clovers.
She wore a white-and-green short bubble dress embroidered with golden patterns, a light-green cape, white socks, and carried a bamboo tea basket.
Inside the basket rested a celadon teapot carved with fine thousand‑leaf patterns — the Green Branch Floating Dream.
She walked to the table, set down the basket lightly. The teapot chimed inside. Her voice was soft, neutral:
"I didn't expect you to meet the Red Sand Wielder so soon."
At the sight of her, the Red Sand Wielder's tight jaw relaxed slightly. He whispered:
"Osidana."
Osidana turned to Shi Jin, blinking her green eyes, her voice still soft:
"This is Hileva. The Wielder of Red Sand."
Hileva looked at Osidana, his voice even lower, laced with faint pleading:
"He wants to know why I'm doing this. Use your illusion. Show him my childhood."
Osidana lowered her head and stroked the thousand‑leaf patterns on the basket. A wisp of pale white steam curled from the celadon spout.
She looked up at the two men, her voice soft yet unshakably certain:
"I accept your request. After all, those who see the Green Branch Floating Dream's illusion… either go mad… or understand."
Osidana's fingertips bloomed with pale green magic. She tapped the Green Branch Floating Dream in the basket. The thousand‑leaf patterns lit up at once.
In the next instant, the café's warm light was devoured by sky‑high fire. Wooden tables and chairs turned to charred ruins. Smoke and burnt vegetation choked the air.
The scene shifted abruptly to a burning demon village.
Little Hileva huddled beside a charred well, hands clamped over his mouth. Tears fell onto his ash‑stained hands, yet he did not dare make a sound.
Not far away, human soldiers in armor held bloodied long swords. Droplets fell from the blades. Cries and collapsing houses blended together, stabbing the eardrums.
Hileva's voice trembled in the firelight. He pointed at the soldiers and said to Shi Jin:
"Look. Back then, my home was invaded by humans. I was helpless.
I am a demon. Just because of our race, they raised blades against my family and neighbors, calling us unforgivable monsters.
I became a general in the demon army because this mixed-blood city showed me a vision of all races living together happily.
I will conquer it. Place it under demon rule. So that demons, too, can have a place like this to call home."
Shi Jin's voice cut through the fire and smoke, calm and clear in the phantom village:
"If it is occupied by demons… do you really think this city will remain as it is?"
Hileva spun to face him, obsession and fire in his eyes, his voice firm:
"I will keep it this way! I swear it on the life of an Artifact Wielder!"
Osidana suddenly giggled softly, covering her mouth. Her green eyes curved into crescents. The Green Branch Floating Dream in the basket trembled gently, its patterns glowing along with her laughter.
The sound was soft, yet cut through the heavy illusion with playful lightness.
The fire in the illusion flickered. Osidana's laughter stopped. She withdrew her pale green magic. The Green Branch Floating Dream dimmed. The burning village twisted like water waves.
Hileva still stared at Shi Jin, his obsession unbroken, waiting for an answer.
Shi Jin watched the fading fire in silence. After a long while, he spoke:
"A life oath means nothing. The foundation of this mixed-blood city was built by humans, demons, and elves defending it together. It cannot be kept by conquest."
Osidana touched the basket again and said slowly:
"That's why I said: either mad, or understood. It seems someone still hasn't fully understood."
Hileva clenched his fists, his voice cold:
"It seems you are the one who doesn't understand."
Osidana giggled again, turning her green eyes to him, her tone soft yet piercing:
"I was talking about you."
Hileva snapped his face away, avoiding her eyes, his voice stiff:
"I don't care what others think. I know what I must do."
He fell silent. Pale golden magic flowed from his palm into Red Sand. With a flash of light, he and the demon soldiers behind him turned transparent, then vanished completely from the café — leaving only a wisp of residual magic in the air.
Osidana looked toward his vanishing spot, tapping the basket lightly. The Green Branch Floating Dream hummed softly.
She turned to Shi Jin, her soft voice gaining seriousness:
"He's left with the demon soldiers. Next step: they'll attack the mixed-blood city directly."
Shi Jin stared at the empty space, his tone as calm as if speaking of something trivial:
"I don't care about this city. Only whether he succeeds."
Osidana laughed again. Pale green magic flowed into the Green Branch Floating Dream. Her body dissolved into tender green leaves, scattering with the teapot's glow.
Her voice mixed with the rustle:
"Very well. Wait and see. Time will give you the answer."
As the last leaf landed, she and the basket vanished. Only Shi Jin remained in the café.
He sat alone. The setting sun slanted through the window onto the empty tables.
He lifted the long-cold coffee before him and took a sip. Bitterness spread across his tongue.
The Enma Blade at his waist trembled gently, as if answering the undercurrent beneath his calm.
He drank the last drop, set down the cup, stood, and pushed open the door.
Wind swept in, carrying the mixed-blood city's unique scent — flowers and metal.
His figure soon vanished at the end of the street.
The demon vanguard had reached the walls. Riders on black horses shouted, their voices cutting through the wind into the city:
"The demon army approaches! General Hileva, Wielder of Red Sand, claims this city! Surrender now, or perish when the walls fall!"
The news exploded like fire, igniting the entire mixed-blood city.
Residents fled with their families, streets packed with carriages and people. Cries and hooves merged into chaos.
Only the city's defenders stood fast on the walls, gripping their weapons, staring at the distant horizon, waiting for the demon army to descend.