Forest Mist

The mist in the forest grew increasingly dense.

The night breeze brushed past, carrying the faint, lingering scent of datura flowers from the witch. She paused, her slender fingers toying with the silver chain at her waist, producing a crisp, intoxicating chime.

The bell of the night, a mysterious woman.

Ye Yan's eyes darkened. He clearly remembered the detective's warning: "The witch always appears at midnight; their laughter will claim lives with the twelfth chime..."

But it was not yet midnight.

"My lady, I do not require your guidance. Could you please step aside?"

The witch covered her mouth and chuckled.

"I'm afraid that won't do. My sisters at home are waiting for me to bring back a guest to entertain."

Communication was futile, so Ye Yan stopped wasting words.

Regardless of whether she was friend or foe, he would subdue her first.

Ye Yan drew his gun with lightning speed and pulled the trigger.

"Bang!"

The bullet shot precisely toward the witch's right calf, yet it passed straight through the moment of contact. The dark purple fabric rippled like water, sending out concentric circles.

The woman's figure twisted and dissipated like a reflection in a pond.

An illusion... Ye Yan's heart tightened as he realized he had fallen into some kind of auditory trap. The initial bell tolls, the swaying of the silver chain, and the clinking of ornaments were likely all meticulously designed hypnotic suggestions.

"Oh my, the guest is quite impatient~~"

The witch's coquettish voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, as if countless versions of her were speaking simultaneously. Her fluttering hem was vaguely visible among the tree shadows, like a flickering, elusive ghost light.

"I offered to guide you out of kindness, yet you are so rude~"

Ye Yan held his breath, keenly noticing that the shadows in several spots on the ground were slightly distorted.

He abruptly raised his hand and fired three shots in succession.

The ancient tree to his left, the corner of the path to his front right, and the dead branches above his head.

Three clouds of smoke exploded instantly.

"It's useless, you know~"

The witch's laughter suddenly coalesced into a physical presence, coming from behind Ye Yan: "Haven't you realized? From the very first chime, you were already caught in my web."

"Is that so?"

Ye Yan reached out his palm and retrieved the [Moon Shadow Tear] given to him by Daphne from his consciousness space.

[Moon Shadow Tear]

[Category: Tier 1 Wonder]

[The moon spies, the sea returns. The reflections of the dead sleeping in the deep ocean shall forever remain within the mercy of the pearl.]

[Aspect: Winter, Moon]

Moonlight shone upon the pearl transformed from the tear, and the swirling mist suddenly surged violently.

The witch, hiding deep within the tree shadows, curled her red lips.

Under his own pressure, the man had indeed resorted to summoning a spirit to break the deadlock.

She leaned forward involuntarily.

The glow of the pearl reflected in her violet eyes, her pupils slightly dilated with excitement.

The first wisp of mist rose from the pearl as Ye Yan's deep voice echoed through the night:

"Moon shadows sink into the sea, the dead return at last."

Obscure syllables flowed between his lips and teeth.

He deliberately chanted the incantation using the unique rhythm of the Queqian Meter, simultaneously blocking the witch's prying and layering the summoning power within the cadence.

The witch, watching from the shadows, held her breath, attempting to fathom the mysteries of the summoning ritual.

However, as the first obscure syllable left Ye Yan's mouth, she found that although every word was clear to her ears, a barrier seemed to rise within her mind, masked by that peculiar rhythm.

Familiar linguistic structures were dismantled and reorganized, eventually turning into a string of cryptic, indecipherable code.

"How can this be?"

The witch bit her lower lip unconsciously, a flash of annoyance crossing her violet eyes.

Moonlight poured down like liquid mercury, and a figure flickered in and out of the mist above the pearl. The moment her form appeared, it dissipated into streamers of light, as if she had never existed at all.

The witch stroked the silver chain at her waist.

Though she was unwilling, she knew she could not linger any longer, or she would soon be tracked down by the spirit.

Just as she prepared to retreat, she felt a bone-chilling cold strike the back of her neck. The Shadow Maiden had appeared behind her at some point, the ice spike condensed in her hand reflecting the cold, sharp moonlight.

"Clang--"

The bell tolled abruptly.

A flash of daze crossed Daphne's heterochromatic eyes, and the ice pick halted a mere inch from the witch's skin.

Seizing this fleeting gap, the witch's figure twisted and dissipated like water mist.

"What a pity~"

The witch's voice still drifted in the air, but her true form had already flashed to a tree ten paces away.

Yet before she could catch her breath, a cold metallic object pressed against the back of her head. Ye Yan had circled behind her at some unknown moment, the barrel of his revolver gleaming coldly under the moonlight.

"Miss Witch, the game should end here."

Ye Yan's index finger rested steadily on the trigger.

The witch could clearly hear the "click" of the trigger being pulled, and a bead of cold sweat slid down her delicate jawline.

"Name, origin, and purpose."

Ye Yan's voice was soft, yet carried an irresistible force. He pressed the barrel slightly harder against the back of her head, the cold metal sinking into her soft hair.

The witch's thick eyelashes fluttered gently.

"If I discover that you are lying, Miss Witch..." Ye Yan paused deliberately, pressing the revolver down a fraction more: "If my finger slips due to emotional agitation, I don't think that is an outcome either of us would care to endure."

Hearing this, the witch's breathing frequency accelerated noticeably.

Her full chest heaved violently beneath her tight-fitting dress, and the silver chain ornaments at her waist emitted a faint clinking sound as she trembled.

"This handsome gentleman."

The witch tilted her head slightly, allowing the moonlight to perfectly outline her profile.

Beneath her high-bridged nose, those crimson lips parted slightly. She deliberately lowered her voice to be soft and gentle, the tail end of her words carrying a seductive tremor: "Are you truly... willing to kill me?"

As she tilted her head back, the wide brim of her hat slid off, revealing a stretch of snow-white neck. Her eyes shimmered, and the tear mole beneath her eye added a touch of bewitching allure under the moonlight.

This was a pose she had meticulously designed.

The witch attempted to use her beauty to seduce Ye Yan.

According to the records of Witch Lane, although the young man before her possessed considerable strength, he always maintained a laughable sense of justice. In his past mission logs, he had even paid a heavy price to save his companions.

This was the source of her composure even when facing the young man's lethal threat.

After all, in the assessment report from Witch Lane, this hot-blooded youth's weakness was that he was too soft-hearted.

"Holding a gun like this..." The witch intentionally let her voice carry a hint of grievance, her eyelashes fluttering as a crystal tear hung perfectly at the corner of her eye: "I am quite frightened, you know~~"

She feigned vulnerability before the young man, while her fingertips secretly groped toward the silver chain at her waist. Among those hanging ornaments was a hidden silver bell.

As long as the opponent let his guard down, she could turn the situation around.

However, the subtle tremor of the witch's fingertips did not escape Ye Yan's eyes. His gaze turned cold as he spoke: "Daphne, help this Miss Witch sober up so she can recognize her current situation."

"As you command, sir."

The moonlight surged like a tide, and the golden-haired girl's figure gradually solidified within the silver glow.

Her heterochromatic eyes shimmered with chill in the night, like two cold gemstones. Between her slender fingers, frost rapidly condensed into a translucent ice pick.

Without a moment's hesitation, Daphne flipped her wrist, the ice pick aiming straight for the witch's bewitching purple eyes.

"Wait!"

On a treetop in the distance, a nightingale suddenly flapped its wings and took flight, landing on the open ground before the two of them.