CHAPTER 180: CHAPTER 180 ROBBERY

The night was deep and silent, its calm broken only by the occasional whisper of the wind winding through narrow alleys.

At the entrance of a shuttered shop, two figures stirred. Mia blinked awake, brushing away the faint dust that had settled on her cloak, and beside her, Carmilla’s crimson eyes glimmered faintly in the darkness. The two had huddled together for warmth, wrapped in a thin blanket of shadow that seemed almost alive.

"Are we moving now?" Carmilla whispered, her voice soft but taut with anticipation.

"Not yet," Mia murmured. Her shadow stirred like mist, the darkness around her shifting in response to her command. "We’ll find a quiet place first—then act."

The black veil around them thickened, swallowing their silhouettes entirely as the two melted into the darkness. Within moments, they slipped out of sight, the faint ripple of shadow trailing behind them as they darted between buildings and narrow lanes until the stone wall of the inner city loomed above.

"Fly us up," Mia said quietly, her eyes lifting to the top. "Try not to move too much—we can’t risk being seen."

"Understood," Carmilla replied.

Unfolding her wings, the vampire wrapped her arms around Mia’s waist. The soft beat of her wings stirred the dust beneath their feet, and they rose steadily, the air cold and thin against their faces. Above them, the moonlight fractured against the shroud of shadow Mia conjured, making them appear from a distance like nothing more than a drifting cloud of darkness.

Within moments, their feet touched stone. The two landed soundlessly atop the city wall.

"Let’s go," Mia said without pause. The shadows stretched again, enveloping them as they slipped down the opposite side—disappearing into the sleeping outer city.

Far behind them, two faint outlines watched from the same wall, their forms blending into the gloom.

"Just letting them in?" Alina asked under her breath, her tone uncertain.

"Follow them," Yanlu replied coolly, his eyes fixed on the pair vanishing into the streets. "We need to know what they’re after."

The city’s outer walls were heavily guarded, but ordinary defense meant little against those with awakened abilities. That was why Yanlu and Alina—members of the ghost special forces—had been stationed there. For nights they’d hunted infiltrators, cutting down many who tried to sneak in. But tonight’s intruders moved differently. Too quiet. Too clever.

Yanlu gave a silent signal, activating his stealth. His body shimmered and faded, and he leapt down from the wall like a falling shadow. Alina followed, her own body dissolving into invisibility.

Neither Mia nor Carmilla knew they had already been marked.

They landed lightly in the outer city, a world cloaked in stillness. Every house looked the same—square stone dwellings lined neatly along narrow lanes. The sameness was unnerving.

"Why are all the houses identical?" Carmilla muttered, her eyes flashing red as she activated her night vision. The world brightened in shades of crimson and silver. "It’s like a maze."

Mia frowned slightly. "Maybe that’s the point. Uniform design makes it harder to identify direction."

The streets were unnaturally clean—no stray debris, no lingering scent of decay or smoke. It was the first time Mia had seen such order in a city this size.

"Let’s pick a house," she said finally. "See how people live here."

Carmilla sniffed the air, the faint traces of scent guiding her. Her sharp senses caught a distinct trail—a mixture of blood, spice, and cooked meat. She pointed to a nearby building.

"There," she whispered. "Someone powerful lives in that one."

Over the past year, running and hiding had honed her instincts. Among the vampire tribes, scent was everything—status, strength, and bloodline all carried their own fragrance. The richer the scent, the higher the rank.

Mia nodded. "Lead the way."

They crept to the door. Mia extended a hand; a shadow tendril slithered forward, slipping into the lock like liquid. With a faint click, the door swung open.

Inside, the house was simple—wooden furniture, a few earthen pots, the faint smell of burnt wood lingering in the air.

"No one’s here," Carmilla whispered after peering around.

"They’ve gone out," Mia said, touching the ashes in the firepit. There was still a trace of warmth. "Probably a patrol family."

Carmilla smirked. "Then they won’t mind if I help myself."

Before Mia could respond, the blonde vampire crouched by the firepit, tearing into the half-eaten skewer left behind. The savory aroma filled the small room.

"Aren’t you hungry?" Carmilla asked between bites.

Mia hesitated, then sighed. "Maybe a little."

They had eaten nothing all day. The market stalls were too expensive—every bite cost precious beast spars they couldn’t afford. Hunger gnawed at them constantly, dull and familiar.

Outside, unseen in the shadows, Yanlu and Alina exchanged glances.

They’d followed the intruders silently to this point, watching the two slip into a house—Alec’s house, of all places.

Yanlu’s expression didn’t change, but there was a faint crease between his brows. "They broke into Alec’s home," he mouthed.

Alina raised an eyebrow. "They’re eating barbecue."

It was absurd enough that she almost laughed.

People who could reach the inner commercial street didn’t need to steal food. This wasn’t desperation—it was something else. A disguise, perhaps. Or confusion.

Alina gestured silently. Could they be connected to Alec?

Yanlu shook his head slightly. Unclear. Observe first.

Alec was the captain of the city defense. His home was normally empty—his wife, Sophia, lived in the City Lord’s Mansion now, and their only servant, Sophia, often slept at the farm when late duties called.

If the two intruders were spies, they had chosen the worst possible house to break into.

Yanlu’s gaze hardened. If they make a move toward the mansion, we take them down.

The night held its breath.

Carmilla finished the last bite of the roasted meat and licked the grease from her fingers.

"Gone already?" she muttered, disappointed. "Still hungry."

She rose, rummaging through the kitchen cupboards and shelves, but found nothing—no rice, no dried meat, no fruit. Only empty jars.

"This family’s poor," she said flatly. "Not even a single snack."

"Enough," Mia said. She had already straightened, her instincts prickling. Something in the air felt off. "We should move."

"Move where?" Carmilla sighed but obeyed, brushing crumbs from her cloak.

"Further in," Mia said. "We didn’t come here for food."

The seriousness in her voice brought Carmilla fully alert. "Right. What exactly are we looking for again?"

Mia’s gaze darkened. "A way to grow plants—on a large scale. If we can learn how the Black Tortoise does it, maybe our people can survive."

Carmilla froze, eyes wide. "You’re insane. That’s suicide."

"I know." Mia’s tone was calm, steady. "But it’s worth the risk."

Carmilla groaned. "Then I must be crazy too—for following you into this mess." She planted one hand on her hip, then smirked faintly. "Fine. Let’s do it. But the moment something feels wrong, we run."

Mia’s lips curved slightly. "Agreed."

Once again, the shadows wrapped around them, soft and silent as fog. The two slipped out, locking the door behind them as if they had never been there.

They moved through the quiet streets until the high ground came into view—a place lush with green, where the faint glow of spirit lamps outlined the City Lord’s Mansion in the distance.

"That’s it," Mia whispered.

Carmilla frowned. "You know what that place is, don’t you? The Lord Black Tortoise lives there. If we’re caught—"

"It’s dangerous," Mia interrupted. "That’s why we have to try."

Carmilla sighed, resigned. "You’re impossible."

Still, she followed.

The two moved cautiously, the darkness bending around them, until they reached the edge of the high ground. The trees were tall and thick, their leaves glimmering faintly with dew and spiritual light. The air smelled rich—alive.

Both women stopped, awe flickering across their faces.

"How... how can the trees here be so lush?" Carmilla whispered. "It’s like walking into another world."

Mia’s heart pounded. Every instinct screamed that they were close to something important.

Not far behind, two pairs of invisible eyes watched from the shadows.

Alina nudged Yanlu, her expression grim. "They’re heading for the City Lord’s Mansion."

Yanlu’s face was stone. "Then that’s enough proof."

Whatever their purpose, their target was now clear.

"Take them down," he ordered quietly. "I’ll take the dark-haired one. You handle the little blonde."

Alina grinned faintly, flexing her fingers. "Finally."

The two ghost operatives vanished into motion—two streaks of silence slicing through the night, deadly and unseen.

Unaware, Mia and Carmilla crept closer to the heart of the city, where the light of cultivation and the shadow of death waited for them both.

Sometimes, Mia thought as she glanced at her companion’s determined face, the hardest enemy to see wasn’t the soldier with a blade—but the spy hiding in the dark, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

In the end, the spies were always the hardest to catch—not because they were invisible, but because their reasons were always human.