The city slept beneath the pale glow of the moon. Zeke sat in his study, idly twirling a golden pill between his fingers—the first he'd ever refined using the Divine Flame.
He leaned back, exhaling proudly. "Look at that. Didn't even blow anything up."
[Miracle detected.]
Zeke smirked. "Maybe tomorrow will actually be peaceful."
BOOM!
The entire building shook. Dust rained down from the ceiling.
[Correction: Peace terminated.]
Zeke groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I hate my life."
Before he could stand, the air shifted. Alora appeared beside him soundlessly, her black mask catching the candlelight.
"Explosion," she said simply.
He blinked at her. "You're everywhere. Do you even sleep?"
"No."
"Creepy."
"Efficient."
He sighed and pushed away from his desk. "Let's go before someone decides to aim the next one at me."
They dashed across rooftops, the city lights dwindling behind them. Out on the plains, the horizon flared with bursts of Qi—bright flashes lighting up the night like silent lightning.
Zeke grimaced. "Who's fighting at midnight? Can't these people argue in daylight?"
[Energy signatures detected: multiple Foundation Establishment cultivators and two at Golden Core level.]
"Golden Core?" Zeke muttered. "At this hour?"
[Sleep is for the weak.]
"I'm surrounded by maniacs."
Alora didn't respond. Her eyes glowed faintly under the moonlight. "We're close."
When they reached the ridge, the battlefield unfolded below them like a scene from a nightmare.
Flames raged where trees once stood. The ground was split open by shockwaves. Two groups of cultivators clashed in the clearing—one in black cloaks, their killing intent thick and suffocating; the other in damaged but distinctive robes, standing firm despite the chaos.
And at the center—two Golden Core experts collided, each strike unleashing explosions that tore through the forest.
Zeke crouched, squinting. "Yup. I step down there, and I'll die instantly."
Alora nodded. "Then you'll stay here."
"I was already planning to."
[Smart choice, for once.]
"Shut up."
Alora vanished without another word. The night seemed to swallow her whole.
Zeke sighed, crouching behind a rock. "And now I'm the idiot sitting alone next to two human nukes. Great."
[You chose this life.]
"Remind me why."
[Bad luck and poor decision-making.]
"Fair."
Down below, Alora moved like shadow through smoke. She perched on a tree branch overlooking the battle, her presence completely hidden.
The assassin leader—an early Golden Core with crimson Qi—shouted across the chaos.
"Hand over the herb! We know your shipment carried it!"
The opposing leader snarled, his stance unbroken.
"You're mistaken! Our convoy had no such item!"
"Don't play dumb!" the assassin snapped, his blade flaring red. "We tracked it ourselves!"
"Then your information's wrong!"
Another explosion split the ground between them, throwing up dirt and sparks.
Alora's sharp eyes read more than their words. The way the assassins moved, the desperation in their strikes—it wasn't greed. It was urgency. They were being driven by something deeper.
A setup.
She narrowed her eyes. They've been deceived.
Back on the ridge, Zeke's boredom had reached its peak. He was sitting cross-legged, chewing on dried fruit while the forest burned in the distance.
"Yup. Definitely not my problem."
[Incorrect. One of those groups belongs to your guest.]
Zeke froze mid-chew. "…You're joking."
[Host's luck remains impressively bad.]
He groaned. "Of course they're hers."
Moments later, Alora reappeared beside him. Her blade gleamed faintly in the moonlight.
"They're Lira's envoys," she reported. "The assassins are after a herb that doesn't exist."
Zeke rubbed his temples. "Fake herbs. Real explosions. Wonderful."
"They won't stop."
"Yeah, I figured. How confident are you that you can kill their leader before he escapes?"
"One hundred percent."
Zeke didn't even blink. "Then kill him."
[Host just issued a murder order without hesitation. Character growth detected.]
"Quiet. I'm busy justifying this morally."
"Understood," Alora said, and vanished.
The battlefield below fell eerily silent for half a breath.
Then—schick!
A silver flash cut through the air.
The assassin leader froze mid-strike, confusion flickering across his eyes before his vision spun. His head rolled from his shoulders with a soft thud.
The body collapsed a second later.
Blood mist scattered under the moonlight.
Before the others could react, Alora moved through them like a phantom. Two more fell in perfect silence, their bodies dropping before they even realized what had happened.
In seconds, the fight was over.
The Pill Tower envoys stood frozen in disbelief.
Zeke appeared behind Alora with a casual wave. "Evening. Everyone still alive?"
The surviving guards instantly raised their weapons. "Who—?!"
"Relax," Zeke said, hands raised. "If we wanted you dead, we'd have opened with that."
The envoy leader—still shaken from the battle—tightened his grip on his sword. "Identify yourselves."
"I'm the City Lord of that quiet place south of here," Zeke said. "You probably saw it before the explosions."
One of the younger envoys blinked. "You… killed him?"
Zeke gestured toward Alora. "She did. I just provided emotional support."
The envoy leader hesitated, then lowered his weapon. "If you came to help, then we owe you our gratitude."
"Save it," Zeke said, glancing toward the road. "Someone's waiting for you in my city. You're coming with us."
"Who's waiting?"
Zeke smiled faintly. "You'll see."
The journey back was silent except for the soft rustle of grass and the occasional creak of armor.
The envoys followed behind Alora, their movements cautious. Every time they glanced her way, they felt the weight of death trailing just behind her calm steps.
Zeke stretched his arms behind his head. "You guys look tense. Relax, we're the good kind of strangers."
One of them muttered, "There's a good kind?"
"Relatively speaking," Zeke said with a grin.
[Statistically, no.]
"Shut up," Zeke hissed under his breath.
By the time they reached the city, dawn was breaking. The first rays of sunlight painted the walls gold.
The guards atop the gate straightened at once. "City Lord!"
"Open the gates," Zeke said. "We've got guests."
As they stepped inside, the exhausted envoys looked around, visibly surprised by the calm streets and the faint smell of bread from nearby bakeries.
"It's… peaceful," one murmured.
"For now," Zeke replied.
They stopped at the courtyard of the manor. Zeke gestured toward the front doors. "Your missing person's inside."
The envoy leader frowned. "Missing person?"
The door opened—and Lira Vale stepped out, wrapped in a pale robe, smiling softly.
"Captain Ren!" she called.
The envoy leader froze. "Lady Lira?!"
He rushed forward, bowing deeply. "You're alive—thank the heavens!"
Zeke crossed his arms, grinning. "Told you it'd make sense when you saw her."
Lira smiled warmly at him. "You brought them back?"
"Technically, she did," Zeke said, pointing at Alora. "I was moral support again."
The envoys bowed to Lira, their faces etched with relief. She waved it off gently. "Enough. You've done well. Rest. You're safe now."
Zeke tilted his head, watching them settle down. "They're a little jumpy, but alive."
"Thanks to you," Lira said, her tone soft.
Zeke shrugged. "Don't mention it. I prefer when people don't mention me."
[Modesty level: false.]
"Quiet," he whispered back.
The city slowly came alive around them as morning sunlight spread across the rooftops.
The Pill Tower envoys began tending to their wounded while Lira coordinated them with practiced calm. Alora silently disappeared into the shadows again, her presence fading from sight.
Zeke stood at the courtyard entrance, arms folded, staring at the horizon where faint smoke still lingered in the distance.
[Host accidentally saved important people again. Coincidence unlikely.]
"Yeah, yeah," Zeke muttered. "I'm a hero by accident."
He sighed, glancing toward the manor. "Six days, six disasters. I should start charging admission."
[Ding! Congratulations, Host. You've achieved consistent chaos.]
He smirked. "Guess I'm doing something right."
The wind stirred gently through the courtyard as the sun fully rose—its light washing over the aftermath of another sleepless night.