In the depth of autumn, the night wind blew cool and refreshing, while fallen leaves and flowers swirled chaotically in the evening breeze.
The delicate fragrance of snow blossoms drifted throughout the royal city, a crisp, sweet scent that soothed the soul, yet upon closer breath, it brought a touch of loneliness and sighing sorrow.
The full moon hung high in the sky.
The evening wind continued unceasingly, slicing through the city like sharp blades.
The autumn leaves, yellowed and brittle, would shatter completely when pierced by the gentle wind, lending the city tonight a chilling, murderous air…
Windsor lay atop the Clock Tower, nibbling on dry bread as she overlooked the royal city.
This city was so vast, everywhere steeped in prosperity—compared to her small tribe, the difference was like an elephant and an ant.
Yet she did not like this place at all, for it was far too noisy and chaotic.
Most importantly, there was not the slightest trace of the end-branch’s aura.
Crunch.
Another bite—her dry bread was now as crisp as a cracker.
She chewed and chewed for a long time before finally swallowing it down.
After her simple meal, Windsor lay on her side atop the Clock Tower, ready to rest for a short while.
Tomorrow, after sunset, would be the royal princess’s wedding.
Before that, she needed to restore her strength.
Rustle.
At her ear came a sound, as if a dry leaf scraped along the wall, but Windsor’s sharp hearing picked up something unusual.
That didn’t sound like a dry leaf at all, but more like the sound of a crossbow being drawn.
The wind picked up, drowning out the faint sound of blades being unsheathed.
Windsor’s ears perked up, and her right hand quietly slid to the dagger at her waist…
Whoosh!
A sharp, piercing whine suddenly rang out—a deadly arrow sliced through the air, cutting through the night wind, heading straight for Windsor.
Her figure vanished instantly from where she had lain, disappearing without a trace.
“W-where did she go?”
A Soldier clad in light armor and armed with a crossbow hid in the shadows of a building, looking all around but unable to spot that gray silhouette.
“Over here.”
A somber voice sounded behind the Soldier.
She whipped around and raised her crossbow to shoot, but Windsor’s speed was faster by a full beat.
The dagger pierced her throat, and with a twist of Windsor’s hand, the Soldier’s entire head was torn from her body.
Whoosh.
Another arrow shot from beneath the eaves toward Windsor.
She sidestepped and dodged it with ease, her gaze cold and brimming with murderous intent.
“You… You’ve been following me for quite a while, haven’t you?”
Heavy footsteps echoed from beneath the building.
Dozens of guards in heavy armor approached, mingled with several people dressed in blue robes holding wooden staves—clearly the kingdom’s Magic Users by their attire.
Windsor stood atop the eaves, then dropped from a height of several dozen meters.
The onlookers did not hear her land; she vanished into the darkness the moment she touched ground.
“Captain, she’s disappeared again!”
One man in silver armor signaled with a gesture, and the heavy-armored Soldiers immediately formed a protective circle around the Magic Users.
The Magic Users readied their wooden staves.
Scorching Fireballs hovered at the tip of each staff, flickering even as the night wind threatened to snuff them out, but they quickly regained form, burning even larger.
“What are you all looking at?”
While everyone’s attention was fixed outward in tense alert, a hoarse voice suddenly rang out from within their encirclement.
No one knew when Windsor had appeared in the dead center of their circle; the scene now looked as if the Magic Users and armored Soldiers were actually guarding her.
“Scatter!!”
With a loud shout, the tight ring rapidly expanded, transforming into a larger circle to surround Windsor.
Sword tips and Fireballs were all aimed at Windsor, but none dared attack first, for at that moment, Windsor had taken the man in blue armor hostage, her shining dagger pressed to his throat, holding everyone in check.
“Damn Cat-demon… Let him go, and we’ll spare your life!”
Windsor’s gaze remained gloomy.
The dagger stayed at the man’s throat, unmoving—she clearly didn’t believe a word they said.
“Humans… full of lies, despicable, stubborn, vile, shameless. Even my own words are more trustworthy than those from your mouths.”
“If you want my life… then I’ll gladly return the favor.”
Her hoarse voice carried a blade’s cold killing intent, as if her throat had been scorched in hellfire by a devil—so chilling that all present felt a shudder in their bones.
The dagger slowly slid into the man’s neck, and in an instant, crimson blood sprayed forth, staining Windsor’s pale cheek.
“Captain!!”
“Damn Cat-demon!! Avenge the Captain!”
The next moment, the heavy-armored Soldiers charged at Windsor with Shield and Long Sword in hand. But before their blades could touch her, she leapt up, landing once more atop the eaves.
Even as she landed, the Fireballs—prepared in advance—shot toward her like meteors, drawing bright, red streaks across the night sky, briefly illuminating Windsor’s face, now splattered with fresh blood.
Compared to the swift Fireballs, Windsor’s movements were even more agile.
She spun and danced through the air, her body more elusive than leaves tossed in the wind.
In mere moments, she left her pursuers dazed and disoriented.
Fireballs whizzed past her, vanishing into the bottomless darkness.
After a few aerial turns, Windsor’s feet landed on the wall behind her.
A cold gleam flashed at her waist, and before anyone could react, she was already above a Magic User’s head.
“Reinforce!”
The Magic User hastily activated Wind Magic beneath his feet, flashing aside like a gust of wind.
Just as he sighed in relief, thinking he had dodged the attack, a cold chill touched his neck.
He reached up—blood stained his fingertips.
The next second, his pupils dilated as his head separated from his body.
The night itself was Windsor’s natural veil; even with Night Vision Spell, humans’ eyes could not match the Cat-demon’s innate ability to see in darkness.
Amid the blackness, Soldiers’ screams echoed endlessly.
In just a few hours, the dozens of Soldiers were nearly all wiped out.
They fought in the city, forbidden to use large-scale or destructive spells.
They thought, against a single Cat-demon, such magic would not be necessary.
When they received the report, they’d only been told of a swift and troublesome Cat-demon—none expected it would turn out like this.
“Retreat, retreat now!”
Someone shouted, and whatever morale was left collapsed entirely.
The few remaining Soldiers began to flee, tossing aside their Shields and even their Long Swords, leaving everything behind.
But how could they outrun Windsor?
Unarmed, they were like prey caught in a spider’s web, helpless to resist.
The screams continued.
When the first rays of sunlight fell upon Windsor, she had already become a hellish Asura, standing atop a mound of severed limbs and corpses.
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