It was noon. The central altar of the Embermane Clan was in the middle of a routine blessing ceremony. Jasmine stood at the front, basking in the attention.

Suddenly, a grating, scraping sound came from outside the heavy steel gates. The two guards stepped back in fear.

The gates were slowly pushed open. Angel, covered in snow, appeared like a ghost. In her right hand, she dragged a bloody, mangled corpse.

The body left a shocking red line on the pristine snow, stretching all the way to the edge of the sacred altar.

The crowd gasped in horror. No one could believe the exiled "defect" was still alive, let alone dragging a corpse.

Angel walked expressionlessly to the center of the altar. She swung her arm and threw Cormac's body at Jasmine's feet like a sack of trash.

Jasmine let out a theatrical scream, hiding behind Al Stein. But the extreme shock and panic in her eyes didn't escape Angel's notice.

Angel looked around coldly. "This is the assassin Jasmine sent to kill me and my consort," she announced loudly. "I demand the High Oracle deliver justice!"

The High Oracle frowned and walked down the steps. He used his staff to push the corpse's face to the side. People immediately recognized Cormac Volkov.

Whispers broke out. Cormac was Jasmine's personal guard; it was hard to deny the connection.

Jasmine immediately put on a tearful face. "I knew nothing about this!" she cried. "Cormac went missing days ago. He must have gone rogue!"

She even turned the tables, accusing Angel of colluding with wild men in the wasteland and murdering her former guard out of jealousy.

Angel scoffed. She stepped forward and kicked open Cormac's collar, revealing the bright red fox clan mark on his neck.

"If he was a rogue," Angel demanded, her voice ringing out, "why does his mate mark still point to Jasmine? Marks don't lie. He was following orders."

The entire square fell silent. The mate mark was irrefutable proof. As long as it existed, it proved he was acting under his Prime's command.

Jasmine's face went pale. She hadn't expected Angel to know the rules of the mate mark.

Just as Jasmine was backed into a corner, Al Stein stepped forward, pointing a shaking finger at Angel.

"She's lying!" Al shouted. "I saw Angel seducing Cormac before the exile! She wanted to run away with him!"

He spun a vile tale, claiming Angel had drugged Cormac and killed him in a dispute over loot. To sell the lie, Al pulled a silver hair clip from his pocket-a trinket Angel used to wear-and held it high. "I found this near his body! She lured him out!"

Jasmine's loyalists in the crowd immediately seized the opportunity. "Murderer! She's trying to frame our Prime!" a burly warrior shouted, intentionally stoking the flames. "Don't listen to the defect's lies!"

The crowd, already prejudiced and easily swayed by the planted evidence and the orchestrated voices, turned on Angel instantly. They hurled insults, and someone even threw a stone at her.

Angel dodged the stone. She looked at her former mate, the man who had sworn to protect her, and a mocking smile touched her lips.

"Selling your dignity for a new master?" she asked lightly. "Is that what men do now?"

The words hit Al's sore spot. His face turned red with rage. He lunged forward, intending to slap her.

Angel's eyes flashed. The system-enhanced reflexes kicked in. She sidestepped and slapped him hard across the face.

The sharp crack echoed across the altar. Al spun half around, blood dripping from his lip. He stared at her in disbelief.

Angel rubbed her stinging hand and stood tall, her aura so fierce that no one dared to approach.

Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, the High Oracle slammed his staff down, releasing a wave of pressure that silenced the crowd.

He looked at Angel deeply. He could see the truth, but he had to protect the high-tier Prime's reputation.

He cleared his throat, preparing to deliver his verdict. Everyone held their breath, waiting for Angel's death sentence.

The High Oracle's voice echoed over the altar. He declared that while Cormac's mark remained, there was no proof Jasmine ordered the assassination.

He brushed it off as a personal grudge of Cormac's, completely clearing Jasmine of any wrongdoing.

The crowd murmured in agreement. Jasmine's warriors praised the elder's wisdom.

Angel listened to the absurd judgment in silence. She felt no anger, only a deep contempt for this rotten clan.

The High Oracle turned to Jasmine. He gave her a slap on the wrist-"failure to discipline her consort"-and sentenced her to three days of house arrest. It was basically a vacation.

Jasmine put on a grateful face, bowing her head. But she shot Angel a look of provocation and victory.

Then, the High Oracle's cold gaze locked onto Angel. He warned her that as an exile, she was forbidden from stepping foot in the clan again.

Since Cormac was dead and couldn't testify, the elder didn't execute her on the spot. Instead, he ordered the guards to throw her back into the wasteland.

Worse, he stripped her of the right to scavenge from the clan's dump. He was cutting off all her chances of survival.

Two guards grabbed her arms to drag her away.

Angel shook them off violently. She brushed the dust off her sleeves, her back straight. She didn't look like a loser.

She looked at the cold, mocking faces around her, memorizing every single one. She didn't utter a single word of threat, but her burning eyes swept slowly over Jasmine, Al, and the High Oracle on the platform, etching their smug expressions deep into her mind. This blood debt, she vowed silently, I will collect it all. A chilling, imperceptible smile touched the corners of her lips.

She turned her back on them and walked out of the gates, into the biting wind. She didn't look back.

The steel gates slammed shut behind her. This time, there was no despair in her heart, only an endless desire for revenge.

Meanwhile, inside the clan, Jasmine was escorted back to her warm, luxurious stone house. Her fake mask slipped off instantly.

She smashed an expensive bone china teacup against the wall, furious that Angel wasn't dead yet.

Al Stein approached carefully with hot tea, trying to soothe her. Jasmine backhanded him across the face, sending him sprawling.

"You useless idiot!" she shrieked. "You couldn't even frame her properly!"

She grabbed a whip from the wall and began furiously lashing Al's back, taking all her anger out on her former brother-in-law.

Al curled up on the floor, whimpering in pain, not daring to fight back. A flash of humiliation and regret flickered in his eyes.

The other consorts huddled in the corner, shivering in fear, reduced to mere slaves.

Back in the wasteland, Angel finally returned to the hidden cave. She carefully moved the rocks and slipped inside.

Seeing Kain still lying there, silent as an ice sculpture, she finally relaxed. She collapsed on the floor, exhausted.

The sky outside grew dark, and the temperature plummeted. Angel huddled next to Kain's massive body, trying to absorb what little warmth she could.

Her stomach growled in protest. The bear meat was almost gone. The survival crisis was back.

She checked the system panel. Because Kain was in deep hibernation, she couldn't harvest genetic energy. Her progress had stalled.

[System Warning: Host will face severe energy depletion if high-calorie food is not consumed within three days. ]

Angel looked at the unconscious Kain. She knew she couldn't just sit here and wait to die. She had to survive on her own.

The next morning, the freezing wind woke Angel up. Her eyelashes were covered in frost.

She stood up stiffly and walked to the food corner. The last piece of bear meat was frozen solid.

She used a tiny bit of Fox-Fire to thaw it, forcing the foul-tasting meat down her throat. It wasn't nearly enough to fight off the cold.

The system panel flashed red, warning her that her body temperature was dangerously low.

She went to the entrance and peeked out. The blizzard had weakened, but she saw large paw prints in the snow. Carnivorous beasts were nearby.

With her Tier 1 strength, fighting an adult beast was suicide. Going out to hunt was a death sentence.

Suddenly, footsteps crunched in the snow outside. Angel grabbed her bone knife, holding her breath.

Through the gap, she saw Al Stein sneaking around, carrying a steaming package.

He called her name softly, his tone dripping with fake concern. He claimed he had sneaked out to bring her food, hoping for her forgiveness.

Angel smirked from the shadows. The system radar clearly showed a micro-tracker pheromone on Al. It was a trap.

If she took the food, she would expose Kain's location and lead Jasmine's killers right to them.

Angel stayed silent, lurking in the dark like a patient hunter.

Al shivered in the cold. After calling out for ten minutes with no response, he assumed she was already dead.

He cursed and tossed the package into the snow before hurrying back toward the clan.

Once Al was gone, Angel ignored the dangerous package and sat back by the fire, thinking.

Suddenly, a crisp "beep" sounded in her mind. A golden dot appeared on the system radar.

[Report: High-concentration Legacy DNA fluctuation detected 5 kilometers northwest. ]

However, the system also warned that the DNA source's vital signs were failing rapidly. It had less than two hours to live.

Angel frowned. A 5-kilometer trek through the snow was a huge risk for her right now. But it was her only hope.

If she could save this rare gene source, she would complete a system task and gain a powerful ally.

She didn't hesitate. She wrapped herself in all the furs she could find and tied the bone knife to her thigh.

She looked back at the sleeping Kain, silently promising to return with food and hope.

She pushed aside the rocks and plunged into the white wasteland.

The wind cut her face like a knife. The snow was knee-deep. Every step drained her energy.

Following the system's precise navigation, she trudged through the white maze, dodging several beast patrols.

An hour later, her legs were numb, and her lungs burned from the cold air. But the dot on the radar was getting closer.

Finally, after climbing a small snow dune, she smelled blood and dirt.

In a hollow ahead, she saw a pool of shocking red blood, scattered giant wolf fur, and signs of a fierce struggle.

Angel gripped her bone knife tightly and slowly approached the hollow, her eyes locked on the massive, dying figure in the snow.