The wind on the Starfall Altar was cold, sharp enough to slice through bone.
Beneath Lyra's bare feet, the obsidian floor was stained with dried blood—layers of it, accumulated over a thousand years. This was the highest point in the Lingyao Galaxy, the place closest to the "True God."
It was also a dining table. And today, Lyra was the main course.
"Lyra, my beloved daughter," King Regis's voice boomed through the star-amplifiers, echoing across the capital. He wore his full ceremonial armor, looking every bit the grieving father forcing himself to make a noble sacrifice. "For the victory of the Empire, for the glory of the Seven Stars... will you offer your soul to the Great Abyss?"
Below the altar, millions of citizens watched in silence. They were waiting for her to kneel. They were waiting for her to recite the scripture of submission, to shed a single, perfect tear, and then die beautifully.
Lyra looked at her father. She saw the relief hidden deep in his eyes.
The war was failing. The "God" was hungry. The side branches of the royal family had all been eaten. Now, it was finally the turn of the direct line.
Hypocrite, Lyra thought, her expression dangerously calm. You aren't sacrificing me for the Empire. You're sacrificing me to keep your own crown for another year.
A chirping sound came from her shoulder.
A small, palm-sized White Spirit Bird shivered there, burying its head in her neck. This was her companion beast. In a world where the strong rode dragons and phoenixes, her beast was as fragile as a snowflake.
"Trash beast for a trash princess," the High Priest sneered, stepping forward with the God-Killing Dagger. The blade hummed with a dark, hungry light. "Kneel, Princess. Don't make this ugly. The God prefers... willing meals."
The pressure of the atmosphere was suffocating. This was the "Sky-Collapse" of her life. No army, no allies, no power. Just a girl and a bird, facing an entire civilization that wanted her dead.
But Lyra didn't kneel.
She laughed.
The sound was soft at first, then clearer, cutting through the solemn chanting like a whip.
"Willing?" Lyra raised her head. The wind blew her sacrificial white robes, revealing not trembling fear, but a spine as straight as a spear. "I am the First Princess of Lingyao. If I die, I decide how I die. And I decide... who watches."
She turned her back on her father. She turned her back on the High Priest.
She looked up at the sky.
There, blocking the three suns of the system, hovered a shadow that terrified the entire galaxy.
It was a Abyssal Dragon.
Its scales were blacker than the void, its wingspan covered half the capital city. It didn't flap its wings; it simply floated on the currents of terror it generated.
And standing on the dragon's head, arms crossed, was a man.
Kael. The Grand Executioner. The Patriarch of the Cangming Clan. The man who held the leash of the Seven Galaxies.
He was here to witness the sacrifice. To ensure the "food" was delivered.
Lyra took a step forward. Not toward the knife, but toward the edge of the altar—toward the dragon.
"What is she doing?" The crowd whispered. "Is she mad? That's Lord Kael!"
Lyra ignored them. Her heart was pounding against her ribs like a war drum, but her eyes were ice. She knew the rules of this world: The weak are food. The strong are diners.
If she stayed on the altar, she was food. There was only one way to survive. She had to climb onto the diner's table.
Gambling my life on a beast, Lyra thought.
She bit her lip until it bled, forcing her trembling legs to move. She walked to the very edge of the precipice, staring directly at the man on the dragon.
"Lord Kael!" Her voice was amplified by her own grit, ringing clear in the silence.
The man on the dragon looked down. His eyes were golden, vertical slits. Cold. Inhuman. Like a god looking at an ant.
"The sacrifice has not begun," Kael's voice was deep, vibrating in everyone's chest. "Go back to your death, Princess."
"This altar is too small," Lyra shouted, her hands clenching her dress. "And this God is too greedy! My father offers you my soul because he is a coward. But I..."
She ripped the heavy ceremonial necklace from her neck and threw it onto the stone floor. Clang.
"I offer you something better."
The High Priest screamed, "Seize her! She is blaspheming!"
Two guards lunged at her.
"Xiao Bai!" Lyra commanded.
The tiny White Bird on her shoulder screeched. It was weak, yes, but it was desperate. It flashed a blinding light—not an attack, but a flare.
In that split second of blindness, Lyra jumped.
She didn't jump to safety. She jumped off the altar, straight into the void—straight toward the massive head of the Abyssal Dragon.
The crowd screamed.
It was suicide. The dragon's passive energy field alone could shred a human to pieces.
But Lyra didn't burn.
As she fell, she locked eyes with Kael. She didn't beg for mercy. She sent him a look of pure, unadulterated ambition. Catch me. I am useful.
Whoosh.
A black tail, thick as a building, swept through the air.
It didn't crush her. It caught her.
Lyra landed roughly on the dragon's scales, gasping for air. The terrifying heat of the beast burned her skin, but she was alive.
She scrambled up, ignoring the dizziness, and found herself standing inches away from Kael.
Up close, he was even more terrifying. He smelled of blood and star-dust. He looked at her with mild amusement, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"You have courage, little canary," Kael said, his voice devoid of warmth. "But the Dragon doesn't eat scraps. Give me one reason why I shouldn't toss you back down."
Below, the King was pale. The High Priest was shaking. The sacrifice had been hijacked.
Lyra stepped closer. She could feel the killing intent radiating from him. She reached out, her trembling hand landing on his chest, right over his heart.
She looked up, her eyes wet but burning with a fire that matched his dragon's.
"My father wants to buy a victory with my death," she whispered, low enough that only he could hear. "But if you keep me alive... I will give you the entire Lingyao Galaxy."
Kael raised an eyebrow. He grabbed her chin, his fingers strong enough to crush her jaw. He leaned down, his golden eyes piercing her soul.
"A galaxy?" he scoffed. "I already own seven."
"Then I'll give you something you don't have," Lyra said, her voice trembling but steady. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his ear.
"I know where the True God is buried."
Kael's pupils constricted instantly. The air around them froze.
The sword at his waist hummed.
"Liar," he hissed, the blade inching out of its scabbard, pressing against her throat. A line of blood appeared on Lyra's white neck.
"Try me," Lyra challenged, staring at the blade, betting her entire existence on this one bluff, this one secret she had uncovered in the royal archives. "Kill me, and the secret dies. Keep me..."
She smiled, a beautiful, poisonous, snake-like smile.
"...and I will be your sharpest blade. Or your most obedient pet. Your choice, Executioner."
Kael stared at her for a long, suffocating second. Then, the corners of his lips curated into a cruel, interested smile.
He sheathed his sword.
With a powerful arm, he pulled Lyra against his chest, turning to face the stunned King and the millions of spectators below.
"The sacrifice is cancelled," Kael announced, his voice thundering across the sky.
"The God has rejected this meal." He looked down at Lyra, his possession absolute. "She is mine now."