Before they could regroup, Chen vaulted backward, leaving behind a trail of frost. With a flick of his wrist, he sent ice tendrils shooting toward the shadows, probing for the dark godling’s form. The shadow pulsed in response, darting unpredictably, trying to flank him from above.

Chen countered creatively: he condensed moisture in the smoke into tiny, spinning ice needles, firing them like a hailstorm in the air around him. The needles pierced through the shadow as it moved, forcing the dark godling into the open. Exposed, their movements became easier to predict.

Seeing the opening, Chen summoned a blade of pure ice, shaping it midair like a jagged spear, and launched it with deadly precision. The dark godling twisted mid-flight, the blade grazing their shoulder and sending a line of frost across their body. Pain flashed in their crimson eyes, but their other hand plunged into the ground, drawing black energy from the earth to create a shadow barrier that absorbed the attack.

The blood godling, meanwhile, had recovered, circling Chen from below. Their red aura coalesced into a whip-like tendril of coagulated blood, snapping at Chen’s legs. Chen pivoted on the icy ground, letting the whip slice past harmlessly, then shattered the frozen spikes beneath the godling to destabilize them. They stumbled but immediately retaliated, spinning the whip into a vortex of blood blades, spinning like a deadly carousel, each strike aimed to cut, puncture, and restrain.

Chen reacted with ingenuity. He froze the moisture in the vortex midair, turning the spinning blades into shards of ice that ricocheted back, slashing the godling’s exposed sides. The blood godling hissed, stunned.

Both godlings paused, reassessing. They struck simultaneously:

The dark godling plunged forward, forming shadow claws elongated into jagged spears, aiming for Chen’s head and shoulders.

The blood godling launched a high-speed dive, transforming their arms into twin bloody blades aimed at his chest.

Chen didn’t flinch. He split his icy aura, forming a floating mirror of frost above and below him. When the shadow spears struck, they hit the mirrored ice above his head, shattering into shards. When the blood godling’s blades struck his chest, the lower ice mirror absorbed the impact, spraying frozen mist into the air.

He used the momentum to launch himself diagonally, propelling forward with an icy slide along the branches and rooftops. In midair, he condensed his aura into ice projectiles shaped like spinning fans, hurling them at both godlings. The dark godling’s shadow absorbed some of the shards, but several pierced their cloak, leaving streaks of frost along their form. The blood godling’s blades were cut short as the fans collided, spraying frozen fragments that ripped through their aura.

Chen landed lightly on the ground, frost spreading across his boots. His eyes scanned the battlefield. Both godlings were bleeding, their movements slightly off rhythm now, an opening.

“Your tricks won’t save you,” Chen said coldly. He raised his palms, summoning a torrent of frozen shards swirling like a miniature blizzard around him. With a flick, the blizzard expanded explosively, slamming into both godlings at once.

The dark godling’s shadow fragmented under the icy storm, reforming a moment later but slower, strained. The blood godling’s aura faltered as frozen shards pierced their red tendrils, forcing them to retreat.

The forest was a shredded mess of frost-burnt bark and blood-shadow residue by the time Chen decided he’d had enough.

The two godlings landed lightly several meters away, breathing hard. Even exhausted, their red eyes glowed with stubborn ferocity,the boy’s eyes a sharp, cutting crimson, the girl’s a deeper, thicker shade like coagulated blood.

Chen brushed frost from his sleeve and sighed.

“Fun’s over.”

The temperature plummeted.

Not gradually,instantly.

A ring of perfectly circular frost cracked outward from Chen’s feet, racing across roots and trunks. The godlings’ pupils shrank. Their instincts screamed.

They blurred forward.

Dark smoke erupted from the boy, turning him into a streaking silhouette that zig-zagged so rapidly the air warped from the sudden displacement. The girl stepped into a blood sigil beneath her feet, and her body flickered, each heartbeat teleporting her several meters closer, leaving thin streaks of red ribbons suspended in the air.

Chen didn’t move.

Instead, the air vibrated as miniature crystals, tiny, needle-shaped slivers of pale blue manifested behind him like a soft, glittering snowfall.

The boy arrived first, stabbing a clawed hand coated in writhing shadow toward Chen’s temple.

Chen exhaled.

A twisting helix of cold air wrapped around the boy’s arm, slowing it just enough for Chen to catch his wrist between two fingers. Frost spider-webbed across the shadow coating, locking it in place.

The girl appeared behind him, blood-forged blade in hand, thrusting for his heart.

Chen rotated his wrist.

The crystals floating behind him reshaped into a curved frost mirror, sliding between him and her like an icy shield. Her blade pierced the mirror only for the mirror to melt into liquid cold.

The blood blade hissed as the cold chewed it apart.

Her eyes widened.

Chen tapped the boy’s forehead with two fingers. “Sleep.”

A localized cold concussion burst outward,silent, but devastating up close. The boy’s body locked, eyes rolling back as he fell limp like a puppet with cut strings.

The girl gasped and staggered back, clutching her head as the shockwave brushed her mind.

“You what even are you doi…?”

Chen didn’t let her finish.

He vanished. No sound, no displacement, simply gone.

She felt something touch the back of her neck.

When she looked down, frost was already spreading across her collarbone, locking her movements. Chen whispered next to her ear:

“Children shouldn’t play with the grown ups.”

He pressed two fingers against her spine.

Another silent burst.

Her body slumped, unconscious before she hit the ground but Chen caught her casually, lifting her over his shoulder as though she weighed nothing.

The forest quieted.

The frost receded as he released a slow breath, restoring temperature to normal.

Two unconscious vampire godlings, Tier Four dangling from his arms like misbehaving puppies.

Chen looked toward the distant lights of the capital and shook his head.

“Causing trouble on my land….”

His figure blurred.

He stepped and his form dissolved into drifting ice crystals, carried away on a cold wind, racing toward the capital with his prizes.

When Chen made his move to seize the two godlings, something stirred far beyond the palace walls.

An old fisherman walking back from fishing, his basket full of wriggling silver fish, his straw hat casting long shadows over his face halted mid-step. For a brief moment, the world around him seemed to exhale.

His fingers tightened on the wooden handle. Beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes hidden for so long that even his neighbors forgot what they looked like widened by the smallest margin. A faint ripple of emotion crossed his features, one that would have gone entirely unnoticed by any mortal eye.

Then, with a quiet snort, he lowered his chin again.

“…Not yet,” he murmured to no one.

And just like that, he resumed walking, slipping back into the rhythm of the evening crowd. He blended seamlessly with the other townsfolk, smiling as one neighbor teased him about the size of his catch, nodding politely at another who wished him a good night. A harmless old man. A familiar face. A background figure.

Meanwhile, far away in the mist-choked forest, in the dark castle, another pair of eyes awakened.

Roth, who was always reading. Roth, whose presence felt like an unmoving pillar in the world.

The moment Chen acted, the quiet in his chamber fractured. His page stopped mid-turn.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he lifted his gaze from the tome and stared through the stone walls, far beyond the forest, beyond the mountains toward the capital.

A faint, humorless breath left him.

“…You foolish boy.”

In the imperial capital, Chen stood in the darkness of his room, the two captured godlings bound by his hand. He had brought them here not to question them, nor to torture them, nor to pry answers from their tongues.

Instead, he sat.

Silent, still. Eyes glowing dim, spectral blue in the pitch-black room.

He waited.

He felt their breaths, their trembling mana, their suppressed power. But he didn’t reach for any of it. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

Because everything he wanted to say, everything he wanted to provoke was wrapped in his gesture alone.

Capturing them was the message.

Chen was not a fool; he understood exactly what line he had crossed. He knew the consequence of laying hands on the children of a demigod. He knew the moment the godlings disappeared, a storm would begin to gather.

And still, he chose this.

It was a challenge, a provocation. A shove at a door that had long remained closed.

His jaw tightened as he stared into the dark.

“Will you stay silent even now… Father?” His voice was almost a whisper.

The night stretched on, like a thread pulled far beyond its natural length. Chen, who had expected an answer, an intrusion, a ripple in the world, received nothing.

No divine presence, no tremor in the air. Not even the faintest whisper of attention.

Just silence.

And that silence… was wrong.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep