Though calmer than Xiao Xiao, Jiang Nannan's brows were tightly knit, her fingertips twisting her hem unconsciously—betraying her inner struggle.
Their strength might be outstanding among the younger generation, but in a war that could unmake the world, they were dust—hardly able to protect themselves.
Zhang Lexuan turned, her ink-black hair swaying lightly in the breeze.
Her gaze fell on Xiao Xiao and Jiang Nannan in turn, her tone gentle. "Come with us. Staying here, you can't do anything—and you'll only distract them."
Her eyes shifted slightly to the Servants who had been leisurely trailing behind the two girls—none other than the Sun and Moon War's master slackers, Qingque and Songque.
"Unless…"
Her tone carried a barely perceptible tease, the corner of her lips curving faintly.
"You two plan to take your Servants and join that fight?"
At the moment, Qingque had produced a set of translucent jade tiles from who-knew-where, idly clacking them together with a crisp, springlike sound.
She hummed an off-key tune, tapping a gentle rhythm with her toe, as if the apocalyptic chaos around them was just painted scenery, unrelated to her.
Songque, meanwhile, leaned against a relatively intact broken wall, arms folded, eyes closed in repose.
Her breathing was even, her expression tranquil—not a battlefield, but a lazy spring afternoon nap, radiating a serene "do not disturb my dream" aura.
Since the war began, aside from swatting a few blind phantom soldiers in the initial chaos, the two had faithfully adhered to a strict edge-watching policy, sticking to their Masters and showing no intention of joining the earthshaking fights.
At Zhang Lexuan's words, Qingque immediately shook her head like a rattle, "thanks but no thanks" written all over her face.
"Fight? Not me. Send me against those monsters and you might as well ask me to commit suicide. It'd be kinder."
She turned to Xiao Xiao, wearing a pitiful, teary-eyed look as though grievously wronged.
"Yeah, yeah."
Songque snapped her eyes open and nodded fervently, taking the same stance as Qingque.
"I'm a total combat five-dregs. In a fight of that caliber, if I jump in, there won't even be bone dust left, y'know?"
She spread her hands with a frank "fighting is impossible—this lifetime, absolutely impossible" air.
Watching the two Servants slack off so brazenly and guiltlessly, Xiao Xiao was speechless. Whatever hesitation or hot-bloodedness she'd felt was thoroughly doused.
Count on them to fight? Better to count on the sun rising in the west.
Jiang Nannan sighed helplessly and gently tugged Xiao Xiao's sleeve.
"Xiao Xiao, Sister Lexuan is right. Staying is meaningless; it'll only make Elder Xuan and the seniors worry. Let's retreat first—and trust they'll return safely."
Xiao Xiao looked again toward the infernal battlefield where energy currents tore at the sky, then at the two Servants who seemed like they'd etch "slacker" on their foreheads if they could.
She finally deflated like a punctured ball, shoulders slumping, and muttered, "...Okay. I'll… I'll go with you."
With Zhang Lexuan leading Meng Hongchen and the others away, only Lemuen, Gu Yue, and Istaroth remained at Lu Jingming's side to watch the battle unfold.
The fierce battle between the Holy Spirit Sect and Shrek Academy, with the Holy Spirit Sect's sudden retreat, finally subsided.
On the ruins, the thunderous din of killing and surging energy faded, leaving devastation.
Drifting dust settled like a gray curtain, revealing shattered streets beneath, twisted, charred scraps of metal, and scattered embers not yet extinguished.
The core zone, once filled with roaring clashes and energy, was now shrouded in suffocating silence.
Yae Sakura slumped against a wall riddled with spiderweb cracks, slowly sliding to the ground.
Her red-and-white miko garb was so crusted with dried blood and grime that its original purity was unrecognizable. The fabric was torn in many places; the bared skin beneath was crisscrossed with ghastly wounds, some deep enough to see bone.
She panted faintly, each breath tugging painful spasms in her chest. Her pink hair hung limp, its ends caked with ash and blood.
The clear violet of her eyes had turned vacant and unfocused. Her long lashes trembled, ready to fall shut forever.
"Big sis…"
A voice, weak as a dying candle, flickered at her ear.
Higokumaru—her form so faint as to be nearly transparent, little more than a blur—lay feebly on Yae Sakura's shoulder.
That small, warm flame-body trembled, her tone full of undisguised sadness and dejection.
She knew what Yae Sakura most longed for deep inside. She had also hoped that in this strange cross-world Holy Grail journey she might help her big sister find eternal peace and salvation.
But reality was cruel to the point of despair.
Their power, on this grand stage teeming with the mighty, was tiny and insignificant.
Worse, Yae Sakura's luck seemed abysmal.
Summoned to this world, the Master she met was a puppet controlled by others, stripped of self. The faction she landed in—the sinister Holy Spirit Sect—ran counter to everything light and pure.
Yae Sakura's pure miko heart and steadfast faith clashed with the dark malice around her. From the start, she was isolated and rejected—an outsider who had strayed into an abyss, every step arduous.
Just like now: the Holy Spirit Sect fled in panic, armor and helmets discarded, and no one looked back at her—not to mention taking their Servant along.
Of course, even if they had, it wouldn't have mattered.
Yae Sakura's memory core was on the verge of collapse. The only reason she maintained a semblance of form was a fierce, stubborn will refusing to dissipate.
"Oh? What do we have here… a poor, abandoned little fox… Hm, this aura does remind me of an old 'acquaintance.'"
Suddenly, a woman's voice sounded behind Yae Sakura—languid and sultry, tinged with playful mockery and a faint, icy danger.
That voice seemed to carry a peculiar magic—easily plucking at heartstrings while stirring a primal wariness and chill from the soul.
"Wah!"
Startled, Higokumaru jolted, nearly tumbling from Yae Sakura's shoulder.
A cold dread crept up her spine by instinct. Yet strangely, that lazy, dangerous tone… felt oddly familiar?
Yae Sakura didn't react at all. She didn't even have the strength to lift her eyelids. Her consciousness drifted at the dark edge of oblivion.
With a subtle ripple in space, a graceful, bewitching figure condensed out of shadow.
She wore a daring, form-hugging outfit of deep green that traced her alluring curves. Her skin was pale to the point of translucence, a sharp contrast with her clothes.
A long mane of dark green hair flowed behind her as if alive.
Most striking of all were her serpent eyes—pupil-slit emeralds of the finest clarity, yet cold and inhuman—now studying the dying Yae Sakura and the wavering flame on her shoulder with keen interest.
When she saw the woman's face, Higokumaru's pupils shrank. Jaw dropping in shock, she blurted, "Aunt—Sister Mobius!"
At the instant the taboo word "Auntie" was about to slip out, Mobius's eerie, enchanting serpent eyes narrowed slightly. Her lips curved into a meaningful, half-smile, and a faintly soul-freezing menace seeped into the air.
Higokumaru's hard-won survival instincts flared to the utmost.
She forcibly swallowed the "Auntie" at the tip of her tongue, knotted her words, and, at lightning speed, swapped in a syrupy, saccharine "sister."
"Heh~"
Mobius seemed quite satisfied with the timely correction. A low, velvety chuckle rolled from her throat, and the lurking danger ebbed like tidewater.
She walked closer with a catlike grace, her gaze flitting between the barely-alive Yae Sakura and a Higokumaru so nervous she was nearly snuffed out.
"You little thing are as… quick-witted as ever, aren't you."
Her perception was terrifyingly sharp. With a single glance, she understood Higokumaru's peculiar state.
Not an entirely independent being, but in a strange symbiosis with the dying fox-eared miko—her existence entirely dependent on the other.
Yet when her gaze returned to Yae Sakura's face—nearly identical to the one in her memories—an almost imperceptible flash of disappointment and realization flickered in Mobius's unfathomable eyes.
"But… what a pity."
She extended a slender, almost fragile finger, stopping a hair's breadth from Yae Sakura's blood-streaked, chilling cheek.
Her voice carried a faint sigh, as if lamenting an exquisite artwork marred by irreparable flaws.
"You look the same. Even your soul's aura is so similar… but in the end, you are not the 'Sakura' I knew."
Indeed. Though both were Sakuras, and this visage and aura were uncannily alike, she was not Mobius's colleague among the Thirteen Flame-Chasers, "Goushinnso Mementot."
Just like the Yae Miko she'd met before: similar, yet entirely different blossoms.
And compared to this battered, vow-burdened miko Yae Sakura, that sly, elegant Yae Miko's temperament and character were worlds apart from Sakura's.
Higokumaru stiffened, her tiny, flickering form dimming at Mobius's words. Complex grief and longing welled in her eyes.
She insisted on calling this woman "big sis" over Yae Sakura's protests because she saw her beloved sister's shadow here.
But she had never treated Yae Sakura as a replacement—otherwise, she would have called her "sis," not "big sis."
Mobius regarded the candle-flame Yae Sakura with keen interest, her emerald serpent eyes gleaming with naked calculation and curiosity—evaluating an unexpected, damaged yet precious specimen.
"Well then…"
She elongated her tone, lazy and honeyed, like a carefully mixed sweet poison—deadly in its allure.
"Let's see… what to do with this cherry blossom that's about to wilt for good?"
Higokumaru's tiny flame trembled violently. She mustered all her strength, a quavering, broken plea spilling from her almost transparent form.
"Sister Mobius… please… please save big sis… she's… she's really going to disappear."
The little fire nuzzled Mobius's cool, gleaming fingertips, posture both humble and urgent.
"I know you can do it. You're amazing… omnipotent. If you'll save her, I'll do anything—even if… even if you use me for some experiment."
Mobius's golden serpent eyes shifted from Yae Sakura's pale face to the small flame burning itself away for another.
The corners of her lips—usually curled with mockery and play—pressed ever so slightly.
"Oh? Willing to sacrifice yourself for a shadow that isn't truly 'her'?"
Her voice remained languid, but with fewer barbs and a trace of something hard to name.
"How… foolish—and how nostalgic—that stubbornness is."
Her gaze returned to Yae Sakura.
That face—so like the one in her memories, yet now etched with pain and ruin—seemed to touch Mobius.
Perhaps it was the excessive resemblance. Perhaps Higokumaru's desperate pleading stirred a rare compassion. Or perhaps it was simply a scientist's pity for a rare sample about to be lost.
She fell silent for a moment; even the space around them seemed to still.
In the depths of those serpent eyes—accustomed to witnessing life's countless births and deaths—a faint, almost nonexistent emotion finally outweighed pure reason and calculation.
Her relationship with Higokumaru had never been "good." With her reputation, Higokumaru had used to avoid her.
But she was, after all, the sister of an old comrade. Mobius was not truly heartless.