Is this really the same woman who pummeled the city lord's son senseless? Look

at her-she's acting like a lovesick maiden seeing the love of her life.

"Kishor frowned, clearly uncertain how to handle Alice's adoring gaze.

"I'm here to take my friend back," he said.

"Friend?" Alice repeated, as though the term itself were a sweet wine. Her eyes slid past him to Jared, then hurried back, their brightness intensifying.

Stepping closer, she flung her ample arms toward Kishor's neck. "You finally came to see me! I thought you meant to abandon me for life!"

Kishor froze; instinct begged him to dodge, but the fragile hope shining in Alice's eyes pinned him to the spot.

Smack! On tiptoe, she planted an audible kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a glossy, grease-smeared imprint.

"Ah!" Gasps rippled through the circle of cultivators, the sight striking harder than any sword aura.

Crimson flooded Kishor's face. Humiliation and fury wrestled in his eyes, yet all he could grind out was, "Alice, compose yourself!"

"I won't!" she shot back, suddenly every inch the petulant girl she had never been allowed to be. "I've loved you for years, Kishor. Why won't you let me? Do you know how it hurt-watching you hide from me all this time?"

At last, the truth fell into place. Jared and Flaxseed traded rueful looks.

So that's why Kishor refused to set foot inside the city-because waiting here is a love-struck tower owner whose devotion he can neither accept nor escape.

The moment felt absurdly perfect, a coincidence so grand it bordered on the operatic.

"Alice, the dispute between you and me can wait," Kishor said, drawing a deep breath to still the storm of color washing across his face. "Jared saved my life. I owe him everything, and tonight you will grant him safe passage-if you wish to keep me breathing at all."

"He saved your life?"

Alice blinked, curiosity softening her murderous glare as she studied Jared with new interest.

"Without him," Kishor declared, voice low yet unshakable, "I would still be trapped in that cursed stairway. If you intend to lay a hand on him, you'll have to step over my corpse first."

Seeing the unbreakable resolve in Kishor's eyes, Alice understood he was not bluffing.

Her gaze flickered, and the murderous chill evaporated-replaced by a surprising warmth, almost... eagerness.

"Why are you statues still gawking?" she barked at the shell-shocked guards lingering in the ruined Whispers Tower. "Fetch the finest healing pills this instant!"

The guards, rattled by her whiplash transformation, scrambled away in a tumble of metal and panic.

Moments later, she bustled up to Jared, baring a fearsome yet genuine grin. "Young man, forgive my rash temper. I had no idea you were Kishor's savior- please, don't take my earlier rudeness to heart."

The Sword Sect disciples and the gathered cultivators stared, thunderstruck by her one-eighty turn.

Jared himself looked equally stunned; the script of his day had flipped faster than he could read it.

Kishor exhaled, finally sensing a crack through which peace might slip.

"How are you feeling? Are the wounds severe?" Alice asked, her voice laced with the concern of an elder sister.

Her eyes traced every bruise and gash on Jared's body, worry pooling in their depths.