The village burned under a crimson sky.
Screams echoed between collapsing rooftops. Children cried out for parents who could no longer answer. The ground was slick with blood and ash. A low, bone-deep growl rolled across the ruins—one not of any man or beast, but something darker. Ancient.
Demonic.
A shadow tore through the village, its claws dragging gashes into stone walls as easily as slicing through silk. Its skin shimmered obsidian under the flicker of flames, and within its hollow eyes danced a hunger far beyond mere malice.
These were not ordinary raiders.They were scouts—sent to gauge the Twelve Stars' strength.
They wanted the starstones.
Not to destroy them, but to claim them. For leverage.For negotiation.
The Demon King, still gravely wounded from battles past, lay hidden in recovery. Without the power to strike openly, the demons sought another route: hostages, relics, and perhaps… an edge.
And yet, even these so-called scouts were nearly too much.
Twelve stars descended like falling gods.
For the first time since their formation, all Twelve Celestial Stars entered battle side by side. Yet there was no glory in what followed—only panic, blood, and the cracking of human limits.
Third Star Miexing moved first, her blade flashing like fractured ice through the smoke. She struck one demon down—barely—only to collapse to her knees from the recoil of power. Her limbs trembled. Every swing of her blade was faster now, but she paid the price: numb hands, slower reactions, an ever-dimming light behind her eyes.
Seventh Star Xuanhu charged headfirst, roaring. His pain-enhancing curse left him staggering after each blow, biting through his tongue just to remain conscious. One demon clawed across his back. Another pierced his shoulder. He kept moving anyway—through sheer fury, not strength.
Fifth Star Chiluan spun into the fight like a whirlwind, her dual blades dancing through fire. But hallucinations surged again—faces blurred. A fellow soldier lunged beside her, and she almost struck him down before Miexing knocked her aside with a cold warning.
"Don't blink," Miexing said, eyes already elsewhere.
Eleventh Star Hanyou flared into action, unleashing bursts of explosive light. Two demons disintegrated under the force—but so did half a building. The shock threw him back, blood trickling from his ears. He didn't rise again.
Second Star Jinglan summoned illusion after illusion—mirage armies, phantom spears—but the demons learned. They adapted. Her illusions were ignored, and one demon lunged straight through a wall of light, tearing into her side. She screamed once—then fell silent.
Ninth Star Lingyin had no time to chant. She cast in silence, her throat too raw for words. Blood coated her chin. A barrier rose to protect villagers—just long enough for three to escape before the wall cracked.
Everywhere, chaos.
The Twelve were trained. Conditioned. Modified.
And yet, the enemy was stronger.
They fought in tandem—twelve stars against five demons. Each creature was twisted, cunning, and brutal, lashing out not with raw strength but with terrifying intelligence.
When one star rose, two demons targeted the weak.When a formation formed, they broke it instantly.
Until only one remained steady.
Cangyan, the First Star.
He stood unmoving as a demon lunged, twin jaws open. In a single breath, he stepped aside. The blade of his halberd whispered through the air—no roar, no flash, just the cold cut of inevitability.
The demon's head slid from its shoulders.
Another charged. He pivoted and severed its legs. A third tried from behind.
He did not turn.
He breathed.
And the wind answered.
Shadowy spikes burst from the earth, impaling the creature mid-pounce. Blood sprayed across his armor. He didn't blink.
Where others struggled with pain, panic, or power overload, Cangyan fought like he had already seen the battle a thousand times in a dream.
Every motion—measured.Every strike—deliberate.Every kill—inevitable.
The other stars regrouped, broken and breathless, as the last demon staggered back, snarling. It wasn't fear in its voice—it was disbelief.
"You… are not human."
Cangyan raised his halberd.
"I never claimed to be."
The final blow fell like a curtain, swift and absolute.
By nightfall, the demons lay dead. But the price was clear.
Chiluan lay unconscious, shivering with fever and phantom sights.Xuanhu couldn't stand.Miexing stared at her bloodied blade, hands trembling.Lingyin had lost her voice entirely.Jinglan did not speak, only rocked back and forth with hollow eyes.Hanyou barely clung to life.
Cangyan stood over them all, not triumphant—but utterly, utterly still.
The villagers wept. Their homes were ash. Children clung to what family remained. And none of the stars could comfort them.
They weren't made to.
Later, in the ruins, as medics moved through the wreckage, Miexing sat beside a broken well, her blade resting on her knees.
Cangyan approached quietly.
"You froze again," he said. Not harsh. Just honest.
She nodded.
"It wasn't fear. I just… couldn't feel anything."
He looked up at the night sky.
The stars shimmered—but faintly. Dimmed.
"We survived."
"Barely," she replied.
"Next time," he said, "we move as one."
She looked at him—really looked—and nodded once.
"Next time."