The Realm of Flames is the domain of the Demon Race.

Here, numerous demon tribes have gathered, uniting to form a kingdom that ruled the vast southern territories.

The ruler of the Flaming Realm is the mighty Flame Demon.

The throne has been passed down through the same bloodline for generations, never falling into the hands of outsiders.

The Royal Capital, named Abyss, sits atop a volcanic crater.

Black smoke swirls year-round outside the city walls, pillars of flame shoot into the sky, and crimson lava churns beneath the city, with tongues of flame licking at the black city walls. Bursts of blinding light erupt from time to time, making it seem as though hell has descended upon the mortal realm,

Inside the Royal Capital, however, the scene is quite different.

Rivers of red flow through the streets and alleys, and most of the buildings are fiery red, their colors so bright they almost hurt the eyes.

The royal palace stands at the highest point of the city. Its architectural style is heavy and eerie, with towering spires piercing the clouds. A red mist swirls around it, concealing twisted shadows that send a chill down one’s spine.

The towering structure extended two wings, encircling a three-tiered fountain. What gushed from the fountain was not clear water, but scalding magma, weaving into several streams of searing fire.

Two squads of patrolling soldiers passed each other, their footsteps resounding with force.

They stood over two meters tall, clad only in short skirts that left their muscular chests and shoulders bare. Their skin was a deep brown, their arms thick, their thighs bulging with muscle, and their feet resembled beast claws, leaving sharp scratches on the ground as they gripped it.

Their heads were bald, adorned only with a pair of curved horns. Their features were rugged and stern, their faces hard-edged, and their pupils were an intense, deep color that filled the entire iris.

While on patrol, they all seemed somewhat distracted, frequently glancing toward the castle gates and straining their ears to catch any sounds from within—even the slightest whisper.

“The lord of the snow domain is about to marry.”

“It’s a marriage alliance with the vampire clan.”

“It can’t be aimed at us, can it?”

“It might be because of the rebel forces in the north; they’re giving the vampire clan quite a headache.”

“I wonder how His Majesty will decide?”

The soldiers, weighed down by their worries, collectively let their minds wander during the patrol.

The captain did not step in to stop them.

He, too, felt unsettled by this sudden news. Regardless of who this alliance was aimed at, it could hardly be called a good thing for the demons of the Flaming Realm.

The demons and the vampire clan are sworn enemies, and wars with the Wraiths also break out frequently; the most recent one was just ten years ago.

The reason the two nations have ceased hostilities stems from the sudden outbreak of the Beast Tide in the Wasteland Realm. This means that no formal ceasefire agreement has been signed between the two sides, and hostilities could flare up at any moment.

“Though the vampire clan has grown weaker, even a single leaf can ripple the surface of a lake.”

Inside the royal palace hall, the tribal chieftains had gathered.

Towering columns supported the roof, with candelabras lined along their shafts, holding rows of tallow candles. The flickering light cast across the hall illuminated everyone’s faces.

The floor was paved with red stone, its veins forming eerie patterns that seemed to flow in the firelight, making the atmosphere all the more sinister and terrifying.

The dome was covered in murals, their designs brutal and bloody, concealing terrifying demonic runes; those with weaker wills could easily lose themselves within them, their souls lost amidst the crimson paintings.

The demon chieftains took their seats on either side, arranged in a longitudinal line with their backs to the towering columns, collectively guarding the throne at the head of the hall.

The throne was carved from volcanic rock and inlaid with large pieces of obsidian; its style was rugged and bold, fully embodying the essence of the demonic race.

Seated upon the throne was the Lord of the Flaming Realm, the King of the Demons who struck fear into the hearts of all.

His appearance was not terrifying.

His slender frame was cloaked in a long robe; his flaming hair cascaded past his waist. His skin was golden-brown, his eyes crimson-gold, and his features were strikingly handsome. When he curved his lips into a faint smile, it radiated a sense of untamed wildness.

Meeting his gaze could easily dissolve one’s reserve, stirring the deepest desires within.

“Who would have thought that Wu Ying would marry a vampire clan royal as a queen?” He leaned against the armrest of his throne, his posture languid and his voice equally languid—a combination that inexplicably sent a tingling sensation through one’s heart and made one’s ears burn.

The demons present were well aware of his twisted sense of humor; they averted their gaze before he could, doing their best to steady their minds.

They certainly didn’t want to lose their composure right there.

Losing face was the least of their concerns; His Majesty the Demon King’s temper was as unpredictable as the weather—one moment he was laughing, the next he could tear a person to pieces. With past events still fresh in their minds, they had no desire to be the next unlucky soul.

“Your Majesty, the marriage alliance between the Wraith Clan and the vampire clan is a matter that must be taken seriously.” A giant demon chieftain spoke up first; his voice was so loud that it echoed through the hall like thunder.

“Calm down, Bayan.” Shecheng raised his eyes to look at him, gesturing for him to stay composed.

“Your Majesty, this matter must not be taken lightly!” The Demon Clan chieftains spoke one after another, their attitudes surprisingly unified, all agreeing with the Troll’s words.

The vampire clan was growing weaker day by day; they could afford not to care.

However, the wraiths were far too powerful; they absolutely could not be allowed even the slightest oversight.

To vie for control of the Wasteland Realm, they had waged a long-standing war; the previous conflict had not truly ended.

“Our war with the wraiths is not over; the flames of war could reignite at any moment.” The two-headed demon leader stood up; he was a demon renowned for his wisdom, capable of thinking with both heads. “We must nip this in the bud.”

“Indeed.”

“Your Majesty, please consider this carefully.”

Everyone chimed in, and the hall quickly grew noisy.

The commotion annoyed Shecheng.

He raised his right hand, and a streak of fire shot through the hall, a wave of heat sweeping toward the demon chieftain, instantly silencing the crowd.

His crimson-gold eyes swept across the assembly. Leaning back against the throne behind him, a sudden whim struck him, and he uttered a statement that sent shockwaves through the room: “What if I were to attend this wedding?”

Silence fell over the hall for a moment; the demons stared wide-eyed, thinking their ears must be deceiving them.

“Your Majesty, what did you say?”

“To attend the wedding in Storm City.” As if the shock wasn’t enough, Shecheng dropped another bombshell: “The Wraith King is a stunning beauty, and I hear the vampire clan prince being presented to him is also a beauty. I’d very much like to witness it with my own eyes—after all, it’s a rare opportunity. ”

If that vampire clan beauty suits his taste, he wouldn’t mind snatching the bride away from the wedding.

Losing his queen—Wu Ying’s expression must be quite a sight.

Shecheng smiled wryly, his expression brimming with malice.

Witnessing his smile, the Demon Clan leaders were not only shocked but also filled with dread.

“Your Majesty, what do you intend to do?”

They suddenly remembered that their sovereign was incredibly capricious; whenever a whim struck him, he would always throw the Royal Capital into chaos.

In the past, he had only wreaked havoc within the Flaming Realm—was he now planning to expand his reach beyond its borders?

At the thought of the possible consequences, every single one of the demon clan leaders wished they could faint on the spot.

“Your Majesty, this is absolutely out of the question!”

“The wraiths are cruel and treacherous; they will not let any opportunity pass. Even during the wedding procession, they will strike at you!”

“You are the ruler of the Demon Realm; not a single hair on your head must be harmed!”

“Please, for the sake of all, remain in Abyss City!”

To dissuade Shecheng, the Demon Clan leaders racked their brains, drawing upon their finest oratory skills—they were on the verge of throwing themselves at the throne in tears.

In the end, Shecheng abandoned the idea.

It wasn’t that their pleas had swayed him, but rather that he understood the Wraith King’s style and knew that even if he left immediately, he likely wouldn’t make it in time for the wedding.

But he wouldn’t do anything.

“I will not set foot on the Wraith’s lands for the time being.”

He propped his chin on his left hand, his right palm facing upward, and a ball of fire appeared out of thin air, burning fiercely in the air. After the flames faded, a scroll hovered in his hand.

“Though I cannot be there in person, sending my blessings is a courtesy.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, a magic eagle flew toward him, snatched the magic-imbued scroll, spread its wings, and soared out of the hall, vanishing into the skies above Abyss City.

The demonic clan leaders knew full well that this scroll was no ordinary item.

As long as Shecheng remained in Abyss City and did not set foot in the wraith’s Royal Capital, they could turn a blind eye and would certainly not pry into the matter.

The magic eagle’s speed was astonishing; its innate spatial abilities allowed it to traverse a thousand miles in an instant. It took only two days to reach the vast snowfields.

By then, the wraith and vampire clan forces had already left the canyon and were drawing ever closer to Storm City.

The magic eagle appeared in the sky, just as the giant owl spotted it.

The wraith locked onto this messenger from the Realm of Fire, managed to trap it, and retrieved the scroll to present it to Wu Ying.

“A letter from the Lord of the Realm of Fire.”

The scroll was very formal, bearing the mark of the Demon Clan. Wu Ying did not touch the parchment; unfolding it directly in midair.

Flames erupted instantly, sending sparks flying in all directions, affecting everything within a hundred-meter radius.

Mules neighed in fright, several large carts were overturned, and their cargo spilled across the ground.

The porcupine curled into a ball, and the goblin swayed from the shockwave; fortunately, it was entangled in thorns and did not tumble into the snow.

The flames burned tenaciously until the residual magical energy was exhausted; only then did they vanish completely.

A few lines of text appeared on the parchment scroll—Shecheng’s blessings for the wedding in Storm City, along with his. The words were polite, yet they rang hollow, clearly lacking sincerity.

“Demon.” Wu Ying flicked the parchment scroll lightly; the parchment froze and cracked, turning into a powdery dust. “A petty provocation.”

Cen Qing witnessed the entire process, his eyes darkening slightly.

Pale fingertips brushed against his collar, touching the blood curse runes hidden beneath it. The poison in his body came from the Realm of Fire, though it was unknown which Demon Clan was involved.

Wu Ying lowered his gaze to him and kissed the top of his head gently: “What are you thinking?”

Cen Qing tilted his head back, meeting Wu Ying’s eyes, making no attempt to hide his thoughts: “The poison in my body comes from the Realm of Fire. If my father has colluded with the Demon Clan, I hope to uncover the truth. Your Majesty, will you help me? ”

“I will.” Wu Ying wrapped his arms around Cen Qing’s waist, tightening his grip beneath the cloak. “You are my wife; I will not refuse your request.”

“Even if it means tearing up the alliance?” Cen Qing asked, following the flow of the conversation.

“What matters to me is you, not a vampire clan.” To Wu Ying, the alliance with Golden Rock City was of little consequence. He could tear it up at any moment if he chose.

When Cen Qing told him that the name on the alliance covenant was one bestowed by his father—and that he disliked it—the document was destined to become a worthless scrap of paper.

“You may ask of me anything, my Golden Rose. Whatever troubles you, I will make it vanish completely.” Wu Ying clasped Cen Qing’s right hand, his fingertips slipping between his fingers and slowly closing around them—a gesture that made one’s heart race and cheeks flush.

He wrapped Cen Qing in his cloak, and an ice crystal materialized in his palm, striking the demon eagle’s eye with precision.

Tit for tat—this was the return gift from the lord of the snow domain.

With the restraints gone, the demon eagle immediately flapped its wings and flew far away, escaping the icy Snow Domain.

The party set out once more.

Fortune smiled upon them, and the rest of the journey went smoothly; they encountered not a single blizzard.

The party reached the heart of the Snow Domain before sunset. Ahead stood towering mountains, their peaks as sharp as swords, their bases piercing the earth, and their summits reaching straight into the sky.

Clouds swirled around the mountaintops, and a rainbow rose in the clear sunlight.

Bathed in the colorful light stood the very seat of the wraith’s sovereignty—Storm City.

The worg riders were the first to reach the foot of the mountain. Without a moment’s pause, they began climbing the steep slopes. Their claws had grown into steel hooks that easily gripped the snow and ice, allowing them to move as if on level ground.

The Warlocks riding the wolves sounded their horns, their cries clashing with the howling cold wind and reverberating across the wilderness.

A response came from the majestic city.

The massive city gates swung open, and ice staircases hung down from the clouds. Transparent walkways emerged from the lingering snow, welcoming the returning lord of the snow domain, as well as the guests who had traveled from afar.

Colorful clouds rose from the city walls; as they drew nearer, it became clear they were flocks of birds in flight.

Upon the birds’ backs, numerous wraiths appeared in the sky.

They wore flowing robes and exquisite ornaments; their striking appearance and grace captivated the heart, unlike the cold, shadowy figures of legend—they resembled elves born of the snow-capped mountains.

“Your Majesty!”

The flock drew ever closer, parting the clouds in an instant to reveal a vast expanse of azure sky.

Wu Ying wrapped his arms around Cen Qing, and the two were enveloped beneath the blue sky.

The wraiths displayed rare enthusiasm, their intense gazes fixed on Cen Qing with curiosity.

“A rare beauty!”

“A dark-haired vampire clan.”

“Pure-blooded—Our Majesty’s future queen.”

A massive shadow fell upon the ground, its edges outlined by a halo of light, covering the vampire clan exactly.

Everyone stared wide-eyed, watching the scene in shock.

The most fearsome legion of the Four Kingdoms, capable of crushing all races—its reputation was indeed well-deserved.

Moments later, the sound of drums echoed through the city, each beat shaking the earth.

Vast swaths of colored light radiated across the sky; a rainbow bridge spanned the entire city, a breathtaking and magnificent sight.

“This is my Royal Capital.” The Wraith King lifted his hood; his cloak dissolved in the wind, revealing a long silver robe. Three loops of gemstone chains wrapped around his waist, making his posture appear even more upright, elegant, and noble.

“And it will be yours as well.”

Wu Ying took Cen Qing’s right hand, his icy breath touching her delicate knuckles.

The giant owl flapped its wings, stirring up a gale, and soared along the transparent cloud ladder toward the mountaintop, swiftly charging through the city gates.

“My attendants…”

“Rest assured.”

The Wraith King clasped Cen Qing tightly and gestured to the Wraiths behind him.

Several giant owls turned around and effortlessly carried away Cen Qing’s thorn maids.

The Black Knights were not granted such treatment.

Nor did they need it.

Mino blew his horn, and thirty men formed a spearhead formation.

With Mino at the head, Pinault and Ribella flanking left and right, a black mist surged through the ranks, coiling around every warhorse as their eyes simultaneously changed color.

“Giddy up!”

The Black Knights gripped their reins tightly as their warhorses surged forward. The formation surged upward like an inverted torrent, charging straight up the plank road, their hooves thundering like rolling thunder.

A slave with an awakened talent hoisted the cart, along with the goblin inside.

The porcupine and the draft horse pulling the cart were untethered; the slave dragged them forward, saving a great deal of effort.

The snow leopard cub lay quietly in the cart, feeling not a single jolt. It yawned lazily, quickly curled itself into a ball, and continued to sleep soundly.

This all happened in the blink of an eye. By the time the delegation came to their senses, Cen Qing’s entourage had already vanished into the distance, and the thorn maids had been taken into the city.

They leapt from the air with graceful ease, landing without a sound.

Gazing at the receding giant owl, they did not pause for a moment, instantly transforming into a streak of black light as they gave chase in the direction Cen Qing had been taken.

“Your Highness!”

“Damn those wraiths!”

Since their last time on the battlefield, the thorn maids had never displayed such speed. Their forms were as swift as the wind, their shadows darting through the streets almost ethereal.

As the Prince’s maids, they could be lenient during their travels, but now that they had arrived in Storm City, they must remain by the Prince’s side!

The maids had departed so swiftly that the retinue members who arrived later were left somewhat at a loss.

Fortunately, a wraith was waiting nearby, specifically to guide them and arrange for their lodging in a building near the palace—a villa built for queens of past generations.

Cen Qing’s entourage would reside there until the wedding.

“His Majesty’s betrothed ought to remain in the palace. You all have other arrangements.” The wraith guide leading the way was a tall woman with delicate features and an aloof, icy demeanor.

She warned the Black Knights who had dismounted not to approach the palace unless summoned.

“We are His Highness’s knights; it is our duty to protect his safety.” Pinault pushed up his visor and argued his case in a gentle yet firm tone.

“Trust me, this is a well-meaning warning.” The wraith turned away, her skirt billowing like a half-blooming flower. “Without His Majesty’s summons, we would not approach the palace lightly either. The snow wolves and silver pythons will tear any reckless fool to pieces, regardless of your status.”

At this point, she paused and suggested another possibility: “If your prince obtains His Majesty’s permission, he might be able to grant you an exception.”

Her tone wasn’t exactly friendly, but it held no malice.

She was merely stating a fact; whether to accept it or not was entirely up to the Black Knight.

Realizing there was no point in arguing, the Black Knight stopped questioning. The group suppressed their inner thoughts and followed her through the city toward the royal villa.

At the foot of the mountain, the delegation didn’t wait for Wu Ying to guide them; they took the mountain path on their own, only to be blocked by a fierce wind partway up and forced to turn back.

Zax stepped down from the carriage and looked up at the mountaintop, his expression growing grave.

In any case, now that they had reached Storm City, they should not be barred from the city.

“What do the wraiths intend to do?”

“Invite us but not allow us to enter the city?”

Having been ignored for too long, the group grew restless, harboring vague, ominous suspicions.

Just as the group was sinking into anxiety, a Wraith finally appeared.

Led by Goya, the giant owls circled overhead. The gale on the mountainside was temporarily suppressed, and a path opened up, allowing the vampire clan to climb upward.

“You may enter the city.” The Wraith’s voice fell from above, exceptionally clear.

The path ahead was long and steep; even with the gale subsided, it was no easy journey.

Zax attempted to spread his bat wings, only to find his power suppressed—he couldn’t gain speed at all and would plummet halfway up.

With their attempts fruitless, the vampire clans had no choice but to regroup and climb the stairs step by step toward Storm City.

Inside the city, a giant snow-white owl soared into the royal palace.

The snow wolves and silver pythons guarding the palace looked up and saw that the master of the palace had not returned alone; there was a figure in his arms.

Given the aesthetic sensibilities of wolves and pythons, they could not judge appearances.

This human’s aura was deeply dark, similar to that of the Wraith King, and did not cause them to recoil.

The giant owl landed in the courtyard, and the Wraith King leaped down first.

Once he had steadied himself, he extended his hand toward Cen Qing. The sunlight reflected off his pupils, casting a dazzling silver glow: “Welcome to my palace, my beauty.”

A cold wind swept in, scattering his long hair.

The gem on his forehead glistened, mirroring the light in his eyes, and slowly ignited with a startling heat.

BOOM!

Just as Cen Qing was about to reach out, a deafening roar suddenly rang in his ears.

Startled, he looked in the direction of the sound and saw black mist swirling in front of the courtyard. Thick thorns grew wildly, entangling with the snow wolves guarding the gate. They collided with one another, unleashing immense energy.

The silver python coiled around the building was drawn to the commotion. It slid slowly down the roof, its massive body hitting the ground with a dull thud.

It crawled forward slowly, its icy pupils narrowing as it brimmed with bloodlust and excitement.

“Your Majesty, it’s my maid. I think this is a misunderstanding.” Cen Qing grabbed Wu Ying’s hand just in time and leaped lightly from the giant owl’s back.

He didn’t manage to land safely, but was caught mid-air by an arm and pulled directly into Wu Ying’s embrace.

“Don’t worry.”

Wu Ying held him close as he strode across the courtyard.

Rustling sounds came from both sides. Cen Qing looked closely and saw snow mounds bulging from the ground, reaching a height of about a meter, with cracks gradually appearing at the tops.

The cracks grew wider, the outer layers of snow flaking away, revealing plump, round figures rising to their feet—entirely snow-white and adorably chubby.

They were about the size of oversized goblins, yet their features were incredibly cute, complete with two large front teeth; they were a species unique to the Snow Domain.

“Snow Sprites, serving in the royal palace.” Wu Ying took a stride, the hem of his robe sweeping the ground as silver patterns rippled like water. He explained their purpose to Cen Qing, “You may give them orders.”

So, are these really the Snow Domain’s version of goblins?

Cen Qing glanced at them again, then quickly looked away.

The snow sprites awoke from their slumber and bowed to greet the palace’s master. When they raised their heads, they strained to open their eyes wide, staring curiously at Cen Qing.

“The King’s consort.”

“So beautiful.”

“Black hair and eyes—we don’t see that in Storm City.”

“A beautiful member of the vampire clan.”

“His Majesty is holding him.”

“His Majesty must like him.”

They thought they were speaking in hushed tones, but there were simply too many of them; even their soft murmurs couldn’t be kept quiet. Fortunately, they remembered their duties and quickly set aside their curiosity, dispersing throughout the palace to attend to their respective tasks.

Cen Qing and Wu Ying arrived at the scene of the commotion and witnessed the thorn maids and the snow wolf facing off against each other.

Just as Cen Qing had suspected, it was indeed a misunderstanding.

The maids were certainly a bit wild, but they wouldn’t easily cause trouble for Cen Qing. They had simply been walking too hastily when a thorn bush collided with the guards, triggering the snow wolf’s alertness.

Once the palace guardians appeared, the maids made no further moves; they quickly recalled the thorns, actively avoiding a larger conflict.

The snow wolf planted all four paws on the ground, its head lowered menacingly, its gaze fixed on the maid across from it.

It twitched its nose from time to time, as if confirming the maids’ scent.

This scent aroused its appetite; its sharp fangs glinted coldly. With a single leap, it could tear the maids to pieces and satisfy its hunger.

The silver python arrived just in time, sweeping its tail to position itself between the maids and the snow wolf, issuing a warning to both parties.

The maids cautiously stepped back, and the snow wolf let out a reluctant growl before finally retracting its fangs.

The silver python swished its tail—unable to speak, yet its message was clear: “You glutton!”

The snow wolf was defiant, but knowing it couldn’t defeat the serpent, it simply turned its head away as if it hadn’t seen anything.

When Cen Qing and Wu Ying appeared, the maids immediately bowed respectfully. Not wanting to cause trouble, they explained earnestly, “We’re very sorry; it was never our intention to cause a commotion.”

“We were worried about Your Highness.” Moli turned her palms upward, revealing a delicate golden box containing a potion brewed by Juandan that could temporarily alleviate the symptoms of Cen Qing’s poison. “Your Highness, you must take this medicine immediately.”

Cen Qing gently patted Wu Ying’s arm and said, “Your Majesty, please let me down.”

Wu Ying did not make it difficult for him and released his grip.

After landing safely, Cen Qing walked past the snow wolf and the silver python to stand before the maids.

He took the medicine chest and turned to look at King Wu Ying: “Your Majesty, they have been taking care of me all along. May I ask if you would allow them to enter the palace?”

“Yes.” Wu Ying did not refuse.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

As soon as Cen Qing finished speaking, several white figures appeared. The snow sprites took charge of guiding the maids to the rooms prepared specifically for them.

“Moli, you all go settle in first,” Cen Qing said.

“As you wish, Your Highness.” Knowing this was the best possible outcome, the maids raised no objections; after curtsying, they followed the snow sprites out.

Cen Qing turned to walk toward Wu Ying, but as he passed the snow wolf, something suddenly occurred to him.

The snow leopard.

He hurriedly called out to the maids: “Moli, where is Snowball?”

The maids exchanged glances, quickly sorting through their memories, and finally pinpointed its whereabouts.

“Your Highness, it’s still in the carriage; the goblins are looking after it.”

“I’ll go get it right away.” Yuanwei broke away from the group; thorns sprouted beneath her feet, carrying her to the annex where the carriage was parked. The carriage bore a special mark, allowing the maids to easily locate and pinpoint its exact position.

Cen Qing felt relieved and turned to look at Wu Ying again.

“The snow leopard?”

“My pet.” Cen Qing took Wu Ying’s hand of his own accord. “Your Majesty, do you grant me permission to keep it?”

“I’m not that heartless.” Wu Ying leaned down to look at Cen Qing, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

The next moment, he suddenly scooped Cen Qing up in his arms and strode toward the open palace gates: “It’s just that my generosity must be repaid, my Golden Rose.”

Cen Qing understood the implication.

He offered no resistance, wrapping his arms around Wu Ying’s neck, tilting his head to gently graze against him with his teeth: “Of course I understand, Your Majesty.”

Wu Ying stopped in his tracks and looked down at him.

A moment later, he set his long legs in motion again, his long hair flowing over his shoulders, casting a dazzling silver glow as he moved.

Passing through the brightly lit colonnade, Wu Ying carried Cen Qing up the spiral staircase toward a room on the second floor of the castle.

That room belonged to the king’s wife—it was the Snow Domain Queen’s bedchamber.