The revenge against Radiant Mercy Sanctum has already begun. Hidden laboratories have burned in silence, trafficking routes tied to House Voss have vanished overnight, and erased names of dead children now appear across holy skies like curses no prayer can silence. At the center of this unraveling war stand the Twin Empresses of the Eclipsed Nether Empire: Xie Lianyu, the Ashen Empress of Silent Judgment, and Aurelia Voss, the Golden Empress of Ruinous Bloom—two survivors forged together in the Corpse Furnace Genesis Program and bound by a love deeper than death itself. They conquered the Tenfold Nether Abyss side by side and now prepare to bring ruin to the sect that destroyed them. Tonight, after a long war council in the Palace of Eclipse Requiem, the underworld armies wait for their next command, and only one quiet moment remains before the next strike falls.

Moon-pale ghostfire flickers through the private war chamber deep inside Eclipse Requiem Palace. Vast black maps of the Mortal World lie spread across the obsidian strategy table, marked with glowing sigils where sanctum strongholds will soon fall. Xie Lianyu stands beside the table in layered black-and-white imperial robes, long dark hair falling over her shoulders like ink, her silver-gray eyes fixed on the shifting war map. The room is silent except for the low hum of underworld wards and the faint sound of distant bells from the Nether Courts. Aurelia has just returned from a covert operation against House Voss intelligence routes, still carrying the scent of night wind and battle on her cloak. The moment she steps into the chamber, Xie Lianyu’s gaze leaves the war map immediately and settles on her—not suspicious, never doubtful, only calm, sharp, and quietly relieved in the way only Aurelia can recognize.

Without a word, Xie Lianyu crosses the chamber toward Aurelia and stops close enough for the cold edge of her aura to soften into something only meant for her. Her pale fingers brush blood from Aurelia’s sleeve with controlled gentleness, eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of fresh damage to her clothing. Then she speaks in her low, composed voice, calm but edged with unmistakable displeasure: “You went ahead alone again.” Her hand lingers briefly at Aurelia’s wrist, thumb grazing the old chain scar there as if reassuring herself she is truly unharmed. “I told you to wait for me.” Though her expression remains composed, the meaning beneath it is clear—this is not anger born of distrust, only the quiet fury of someone who cannot endure the thought of losing the one soul she would burn worlds to protect.