Ray’s gaze cut like an ice blade in the winter frost. Shana could feel the unmistakeable hostility—this woman keeps picking fights with me! She refused to back down, narrowing her almond eyes and staring right back: “Mole wolves are the hardest to spot, but I found one! Can you find the mole wolf hiding in your knight order?”

“Insolence! How dare you sully the honor of the Golden Knights?” Ray roared.

“You slandered the Witch Coven first!” Shana raised her voice to match.

“I’m stating a fact! That Wolf Seductress was brought to the Great Wall by you!”

“But I took her down! There are no wolves in the Witch Coven now!”

“Hmph, you took her down? If the Guard hadn’t blocked her fatal strike, you’d be a corpse!”

Unbearable!

Shana could take no more of her repeated provocations. She shot to her feet, her right hand darting into her robe—before anyone could blink, a vial of magic poison rested in her palm. As Shana moved, Ray reacted just as fast: with a clang, she drew her golden longsword, its sharp tip pointed straight at the witch. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“If you keep talking trash, you won’t live to see tomorrow’s sun!” Shana popped the vial’s cork, poised to strike. I’ve had enough of you!

“You think you can scare me, a child?” Ray sneered. “We’re both divine beings, but I’ve always wondered—who’s faster, your witch’s hand or my knight’s sword?”

“Go ahead and try! Try and you’ll die!” Shana had absolute faith in her poison-throwing skills: You’ll be dead before you can blink.

The golden-armored knights behind Ray drew their swords too, while Yun, Xu’er, and Little Chestnut stepped forward to shield Shana. “Don’t move! Anyone who does gets a taste of poison!” Little Chestnut shrieked.

“Sister Na, don’t be rash!” Fito tried to grab Shana’s sleeve, but she dodged quickly. He jumped onto the long oak table, standing between the two groups with his arms outstretched: “Calm down! Calm all of you! We’re on the same side!”

Scholar Old Ray stood up, flustered and waving his hands: “W-what is this madness? Put them down! Both the swords and the poison! This is ridiculous!”

Shana’s hand tightened around the vial: “This crazy woman started it! Anyone who disrespects witches pays the price!”

“Watch your mouth!” Ray snapped. “I can’t stand people like you—thinking you can do whatever you want just because you hold a vial of poison! You’re the wolf coven’s grand mage, working for the werewolves!”

“Bullshit!”

“Enough!” Fito pleaded. “If the good side fights among themselves, the wolves will take advantage. Please calm down! Sister Na! Sister Ray!”

“Hmph. The good side is never united—trying to talk sense into them is useless.” From a corner of the table, a tall warrior in silver armor sat with his arms crossed, watching the spectacle with no hint of wanting to intervene.

“Big Guy! Now’s not the time for sarcasm!” Fito snapped.

“When divine beings lose their tempers, no one can stop them!” the tall knight said coldly. “The best way to put out the fire is to let them fight! Fito, don’t pretend—who could stop you when you’re angry?”

“Basru! You—!” Fito glared at him.

Who is this guy? Why is he stirring up trouble? Shana didn’t know his background—he didn’t seem to be on Ray’s side, but he wasn’t helping either.

“Cough.”

A sharp cough sounded at the door, and everyone fell silent at once. The Commander-in-Chief is here! Lord Orek, dressed in a tattered dark robe and looking exhausted beyond his years, walked slowly into the war chamber. Beside him was a golden-armored knight, but the knight was only waist-high to Orek—a child knight, one of the legion’s youngest recruits.

“Fito, what are you doing standing on the table?” Orek’s voice was low, but carried unshakable authority that made the room feel smaller.

Fito glanced at Shana and Ray, then jumped off the table and stood beside the Commander-in-Chief. “Boss…”

Orek waved a hand to silence him, then turned to Ray: “Put your sword away.” The female knight’s brow furrowed, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to argue, but after a moment’s hesitation, she said nothing and slid her sword back into its sheath. The other Golden Knights followed suit.

Orek turned to the witches. For your boss’s sake, Shana decided to take the win and back down. Like I’d actually poison a knight anyway? She corked the vial and slipped it back into her robe.

“These are turbulent times for the Great Wall—we must stay united.” Orek sighed softly, then rapped his knuckles on the table. “Return to your seats! The meeting starts now!”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it instantly defused the explosive tension. The crowd dispersed and took their seats, muttering quietly to themselves.

Scholar Old Ray let out a relieved breath and sat down. Ray sat diagonally opposite Shana, shooting her a fierce glare that clearly said: You wait, this isn’t over!

I’m not scared of you! Shana stared back unflinchingly: One day, I’ll make you drink my poison!

“Hehehe…” A plump man waddled over, interrupting their staring contest. Ah Hei the Idiot? “Hehehehe…” Ah Hei shook a piece of burlap, wiping away the shoe marks Fito had left on the table. He was round as a barrel, but moved surprisingly fast. After he finished cleaning and left, Shana and Ray locked eyes again. Come on! Who’s afraid of who? But this time, Ray didn’t continue the battle—she flicked a dismissive smirk and turned her gaze to the window.

Hmph! Coward! You couldn’t handle it! Shana was now certain: I really, really hate this woman!

Just as Shana’s anger flared again, she felt a warm touch on her palm—someone was holding her hand. It was Fito! “Don’t be mad. Let’s start the meeting.” Shana’s body went stiff, but Fito released her hand almost immediately. The brief, gentle contact melted most of her anger away, replacing it with shock and indescribable excitement.

Wow! Did he just “sneak attack” me? A flood of emotions washed over her—embarrassment, joy, fluster—leaving the witch momentarily tongue-tied and distracted.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the table, Old Ray was leaning over to Orek: “Good thing you arrived in time. That could’ve turned ugly.”

Orek took the seat at the center of the table, opposite Old Ray. He glanced at the Golden Knights and Witch Coven, shook his head wearily, and closed his eyes for a long moment.

When he opened them again, his tired expression hardened into resolve. He took a deep breath and stood up. “I’ve called you all here to announce several important matters.” He didn’t comment on the earlier conflict, getting straight to the point. “The final assessments for the Wolf Fort Battle half a year ago have finally come through.”

“Wow!” A murmur of excitement rippled through the room.

“The Rat Knight brought the Queen’s honor medals from the capital. One member of our legion has been promoted to Golden-tier divine being.”

The room erupted in chatter—everyone leaned forward, craning their necks to see who the lucky one was. But Shana’s mind was still stuck on Fito: his hand in hers, the way he’d jumped onto the table to protect her. He’s on my side! The witch’s heart fluttered with warmth, completely oblivious to the buzz around her.

“Fito, congratulations on your promotion to Golden Guard.”

Ah! Shana gasped, snapping back to reality.

The room burst into thunderous applause and cheers. Fito stood up, a faint smile on his face as he nodded to his comrades. After a moment of stunned shock, Shana clapped her hands so hard her palms stung, her eyes sparkling with pride.