Chapter 143: Stellar Energy Spell – Ink Coffin

[Steam Capital, Upper City, Steam Branch]

[Thirty minutes after Vivian’s arrest]

“Ink Captain! Something’s wrong! You’ve got to come out and see this!”

The sudden shout shattered Tian Dao’s focus, who had been deeply engrossed in practicing calligraphy. The final stroke of the character “Jing” (静)—calm—was nearly complete, but the slight tremor in his hand at the end left it slightly uneven, messy.

Yet Tian Dao didn’t seem bothered.

He quietly set down his brush, lifted his head, and gazed at the figure before him.

A Fifth Squad agent stood breathless, drenched in sweat, eyes wide with panic—frantic as a trapped insect on a hot pan.

“Calm down,” Tian Dao said, voice as tranquil as sunlight at midday. “Tell me what happened.”

The agent exhaled sharply, then began speaking—rapid, precise, and composed.

Within moments, Tian Dao understood.

Gear Church had learned of Vivian’s capture and arrived immediately, demanding her return. But the Association—specifically Deputy Captain Yu Chen—refused to hand her over. Now, the two sides stood locked in a tense standoff, the air thick with barely suppressed conflict.

“Ah,” Tian Dao murmured. He reached for the white moon-colored captain’s robe hanging beside him, slipping one arm into the sleeve with a single, fluid motion. The robe swept through the air like a brushstroke, its hem settling gently at his side.

“Come,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Let’s go see what kind of trouble our dear Deputy Rain has stirred up.”

Though his words carried the casual tone of someone heading to a routine calligraphy gathering, there was no trace of anger in his voice—only serene calm.

That effortless composure spoke volumes. To everyone watching—from the Dimensional Screen to the agents on the field—it was clear: no matter how dire the situation, once Ink took hold, everything would be ordered, smoothed, resolved—just as a single brushstroke could bring harmony to chaos.

Like mountains collapsing before him, and he would not flinch.

> “Wait… why do I suddenly feel myself getting sucked into Ink’s vibe?”

>

> “He’s so calm and composed—yet there’s something undeniably cool about him.”

>

> “I’m saying it now—Ink is Ink, Tian Dao is Tian Dao. Two extremes. One stillness. One motion. Utterly opposite.”

The live chat buzzed with reactions from the Dimensional Audience.

The camera followed Tian Dao as he stepped forward, the rhythmic gears of the tiled corridor echoing beneath his feet. He moved through the passage, emerging into a vast, open training ground of the Fifth Squad.

From afar, voices carried through the air.

“Deputy Rain, we’re reclaiming our own traitor. Are you truly going to interfere in the affairs of the Church?”

Silver Knight Pel’s voice was cold, sharp—like steel scraping against steel.

On the opposite side of the field, Yu Chen leaned casually against the wall bearing the Fifth Squad’s emblem. In his fingers, a silver-white pistol spun effortlessly, its surface etched with intricate, glowing patterns.

“Ordinary matters go to the Federation. Stellar Envoy affairs belong to us.”

“Pel, this is the Stellar Envoy Association—not your Gear Church. Know your place. Without the Branch Chairman’s order… or our Captain’s command… no one touches our prisoner.”

Pel didn’t respond. Instead, he took a single step forward.

His Heavy Knight Combat Armor — Silver Radiance IV — groaned as it pressed into the ground. The floor trembled slightly beneath him, a clear testament to the sheer power locked within the machine.

Behind him, the brass-clad knights of Gear Church snapped their hands to their hips, fingers tightening around their steam revolvers. The weapons, connected to their back-mounted steam canisters, hissed faintly, smoke curling from their barrels—ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

The Fifth Squad agents, though reluctant to provoke open conflict, raised their weapons in turn.

Pride as Stellar Envoys burned within them.

Two colossal waves of Stellar Energy surged from either side, colliding at the center of the field—Yu Chen and Pel standing as the axis.

The shockwaves cracked the ground. Cracks spiderwebbed outward beneath their feet.

Tension was at its peak.

“Deputy Rain,” Yu Chen said slowly, stopping the spinning gun with a flick of his wrist. His smile was thin, almost mocking. “I’m not heartless. We can talk. But the rules of the Association must stand.”

“Just get the Branch Chairman’s approval… or convince our Captain. Then I’ll let you take her.”

“Is that so?” Pel placed a hand on the hilt of his Steam Saw Blade, voice low. “So you’re determined to protect the traitor?”

“Traitor?” Yu Chen laughed. “Until the facts are clear, I don’t know if she’s guilty. But I do know she was brought in by our Captain.”

“You show up with a few words, and expect us to hand her over? You don’t respect the Fifth Squad at all.”

“What if I insist on taking her?”

Pel’s blade began to slide from its sheath.

Yu Chen raised his pistol—slow, deliberate.

“Then you’ll have to prove you’re strong enough.”

“The doors of the Fifth Squad are easy to enter,” he said. “But getting out? That’s another story.”

“Hmph.” Pel didn’t flinch. With a sharp clack, the saw blade was fully drawn.

“Then I’d like to see just how hard it is to leave.”

The blade in his hand pulsed with energy. Pel’s presence shifted—suddenly darker, heavier, like a storm gathering.

Yu Chen’s pistol flared with an eerie, swirling glow.

The two were seconds from clashing.

The other squad members, who had been watching like spectators, now stirred uneasily.

This wasn’t a petty argument. If they fought, the entire Steam Branch would be dragged into the fire.

Some agents broke away, sprinting to find their own captains—anyone who could stop this before it exploded.

But just then—

A clear, smooth voice cut through the tension from deep within the base.

“It seems I’ve arrived at a time when the people of Steam Capital still don’t know much about me.”

All eyes turned.

Tian Dao stepped forward—calm, unhurried.

Behind his black-rimmed glasses, his gaze was gentle, like polished jade. Yet beneath that serenity, a presence radiated—unmistakable, commanding.

And around him, his Stellar Energy—normally a pale light—now flowed like ink, swirling through the air in dark, liquid waves. The scent of aged ink bloomed in the air, soft and deep, gently masking the sharp tang of machine oil and the oppressive weight of the moment.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” he said. “I am Ink. A humble calligraphy enthusiast from Deep Blue Metropolis.”

Pel froze.

His body tensed instantly—instinctively—on high alert.

Because this was not the man from the rumors.

The man described as gentle, peace-loving, indifferent to conflict—this was not him.

The ink-black energy swirling around Tian Dao, flowing like water through the air—its depth, its quiet power—sent a jolt through Pel’s nerves.

A primal warning.

Without hesitation, he activated his Heavy Knight Armor — Silver Radiance IV.

The machine roared to life. Ancient, glowing runes erupted across its silver surface, weaving into the fabric of the armor with arcane precision.

“Ink Captain,” Pel said, voice tight. “Are you really going to interfere in Church matters?”

Tian Dao smiled.

He raised a single hand.

A drop of black ink formed at the tip of his index finger—perfect, dense, and utterly still.

Then, before it could fall, he spoke.

“Pel Knight,” he said, “it’s not that I want to interfere. It’s that your Church has reached too far.”

“I may be just a simple calligraphy lover… but in the art of Stellar Energy Spell, I… have some knowledge.”

And then—

The ink drop exploded.

Stellar Energy Spell — Ink Coffin.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end