The lady on the roof kept playing her lute, the melancholic melody echoing through the night air like a siren's call.
But then she stopped, her fingers hovering above the strings as she sensed a presence behind her. "You finally came," she said, turning to face the newcomer, her voice like a soft breeze on a summer's day.
Before her stood another lady, inches away, dressed in a purple gown that seemed to shimmer like the moon's reflection on rippling water.
The gown's design was typical, yet it seemed to hold a subtle power. Her long earrings swayed in the wind, their gentle dance hypnotic, and her perfectly styled hair framed a face with a makeup that made her looked dangerously.
A flute rested in her hand, its surface etched with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and writhe like living shadows. As she raised the flute, it transformed into dark purple energy, like a serpent uncoiling from its nest.
"You're the one seeking attention," the demon lady growled, her teeth gritted, her voice like thunder on a stormy night. "I was trying to lure my prey for the night, but you kept playing my tune on your lute! You seek death, mortal!"
The young lady on the roof snickered, unfazed, her eyes glinting like stars in the darkness. "Seek death? Coming from a mere earthly river demon? If it were a higher demon, I might be shaken." She shrugged, holding the lute's neck like a sword, aiming it at the demon with a fierce grace.
The demon lady's face twisted in rage, her dark purple energy swirling around her like a vortex. "Mere demon?! Let's see!" she exclaimed, charging towards the young lady with a fierce battle cry, her long earrings glinting like tiny knives.
With a swift, fluid motion, the young lady's hand glided from the head of the lute to its base, and in a burst of moonlight, the instrument transformed into a shimmering sword. "You are the one that seeks death!" she declared, her voice ringing out like a silver bell.
As she transcended, her body seemed to blur, leaving behind a trail of glittering stardust. She charged back at the demon, their shadows dancing across the wall of a nearby building like dark, ethereal specters.
******
Meanwhile, at Prince Khane's side,he watched as the young lady with white hair and the demon fought.
Then the young lady with white hair stood tall, her chest heaving with exhaustion as she faced the demon. The air was thick with tension, the only sound was the soft hum of her heavy breathing. The demon's eyes gleamed with contempt, her dark purple energy swirling around her like a living entity.
"The mortal thinks she can win?" the demon sneered, her voice dripping with malice. "Run away, little girl. I only need the young man. Your powers are not strong enough for me. Come back when you grow up."
The demon's words hung in the air like a challenge, but the young lady refused to back down.
Her eyes flashed with determination, and she yelled "Pattern!" A spinning spear materialized before her, its surface etched with intricate runes that shimmered in the moonlight.
With a swift motion, she transcended, charging towards the demon as she grasped the spear. Her movements were a blur, her white hair streaming behind her like a river of moonlight.
She aimed the spear at the demon, shouting "Bone-swift-frost!" A blast of white cold energy erupted from the spear, striking the demon with incredible force.
The demon stumbled back, her feet sliding across the ground, but she managed to maintain her footing.
The young lady's attack had pushed her back, but the demon's dark energy still swirled around her, a testament to her formidable power. The battle was far from over, and Prince Khane watched with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest.
The demon panted, her chest heaving with exertion, but she stood tall, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "I thought it was going to be a heavy blow," she laughed, her voice husky.
"What's the use in summoning another weapon when your power is still weak?"
The young lady with white hair struck her spear on the ground, the sound echoing through the air. "You shouldn't talk too much, haggard lady," she said, her voice firm.
Then, she turned to Prince Khane and tossed her spear to him, saying, "Keep this for me."
But Prince Khane, caught off guard, failed to catch the spear. It fell to the ground with a clang, and he hastily picked it up, his face flushing with embarrassment.
The demon, meanwhile, attempted to summon her power, but her eyes widened in shock as she failed. Instead, she spouted blood, her mouth opening in a macabre grimace.
She stylishly wiped the blood from her lips with a finger, her gaze fixed on the young lady with a mix of shock and fury.
"It's time to finish," the young lady with white hair whispered to herself, her eyes blazing with determination as she approached the demon.
"My power may be weak, yes, I'm only in phase 4," she acknowledged, her voice steady, "but the spear is not.
This was the spear wielded by the Ice Phoenix in the heavens during the epic battle between the Demon King and the God of War.
The attack I used, Bone-swift-frost, was swift and deadly, corroding your bones with frost. Now, it's time I gift you death."
With a fierce battle cry, she unsheathed her sword from her back and held it horizontally, its blade shimmering like moonlight.
She swiftly passed the demon, her sword slicing through the air with a deadly whisper.
The demon's eyes widened in shock, her body crumpling to the ground, blood gushing from her wounds. She fell, staring up at the sky with a frozen gaze.
As the young lady stood tall, the demon's spirit began to dissipate, her body slowly fading away like mist in the morning sun.
The young lady took a deep breath, her chest heaving with exertion, her white hair stained with blood and blowing gently in the cold wind.
She turned, her hands on her hips, and gazed out at the night sky. "Well, that was a fight," she said, her voice laced with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction.
Prince Khane approached the young lady ,handing her back her spear. "What demon was that? Was that the river demon?" he asked, his eyes filled with curiosity.
She accepted her spear, her expression serious. "That was one of them. You should head home and be safe. Men are the victims of those demons, and moreover, you are not a cultivator."
Then,Prince Khane's said "I know I'm not a cultivator, but I always imagine myself having skills. I don't know where I come from, and I've lost my memories, but I feel like I am a cultivator."
Her gaze softened, intrigued by the his words. "I'm Pherna Didastimon," she introduced herself. "How about you, do you care to introduce yourself?"
"Khailian. I don't remember my real name, but this is what I'm called now."Prince khane said.
"Well Khailian, we're not fighting in your mind, and even if you were a cultivator, your instincts could have kicked in," Pherna said, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and concern. "But I'll help you check if something's wrong."
She checked his pulse with her essence, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the subtle energies flowing through his body. As she did so, her expression turned serious, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"That's not right," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. She placed her hand on Prince Khane's back, her palm warm against his skin, and then quickly removed it, as if sensing something was amiss.
Prince Khane turned to her, his eyes filled with worry, his face pale in the moonlight. "What did you find?" he asked, his voice laced with desperation, his words tumbling out in a rush.
Pherna's expression was grim, her eyes locked on Prince Khane's with a deep concern. "I may not be an expert, but I know your meridians are damaged," she said, her voice steady and calm. "
"Can you fix it?"Prince khane asked immediately.
"I don't have the ability to fix it, and you didn't let me finish.
Your meridians are damaged, but it wasn't done by anyone else - you did it yourself, and in a very cruel way.
Even if you find help, I doubt the person will be able to fix it completely. As for this matter, you have to do it yourself."