NOVEL NEXT Chapter 440: The Forgotten Concubine
Where the Dragon Empire basked in eternal twilight, the Human Empire greeted each day with the blazing fury of a conquering sun. The great continent of Aurelius stretched beneath golden skies, its fertile plains and sprawling cities bearing witness to the dominion of mortals who had dared to dream of godhood.
Here, under the burning pride of the Human Emperor, the Eloise family had ruled for eons—a dynasty forged in the crucible of rebellion when House Obsidian had helped shatter the draconic chains that once bound humanity. It was a history that other continents and empires had seemingly forgotten, their reverence for the Obsidian name fading like morning mist before the sun of their own ambitions.
The Imperial Castle rose from the heart of the continent like a mountain of marble and gold, its spiraling towers piercing the sky with defiant majesty. Activity pulsed through its corridors like blood through the veins of a giant—servants scurrying with purpose, courtiers weaving their webs of influence, and the constant hum of an empire that never slept.
Yet for all its grandeur, the castle's most striking feature was the army that surrounded it.
Hundreds of guards patrolled the grounds in perfect formation, their ranks a testament to the emperor's paranoia and power. Each warrior bore the insignia of the Imperial Guard, their cultivation ranging from Rank 15 to 17—beings who could level cities with a gesture, reduce armies to ash with a wave of their hand. Their armor gleamed like captured starlight, enchanted steel that could turn aside dragon fire and demon claws alike.
They moved with the fluid precision of predators, their eyes scanning every shadow, every whisper of wind that disturbed the air. Nothing escaped their notice—not the flutter of a bird's wing, not the rustle of leaves in the garden, not the barely perceptible shift in magical currents that marked the passage of power.
Their vigilance was absolute, their loyalty unquestioned, their strength legendary.
Yet it meant absolutely nothing against the two figures who materialized in the castle's heart without so much as disturbing a single grain of dust.
__
Deep within the castle's residential wing, where the emperor's women lived in gilded cages, morning light filtered through latticed windows into a chamber that spoke of deliberate neglect.
The room was modest—almost spartan—a stark contrast to the opulent quarters afforded to favored concubines. Here dwelt the woman who had committed the ultimate sin in the eyes of the court: she had given birth to twins, and one of them had proven to be a disappointment.
Lady Evelyn lay slumbering upon a bed scarce worthy of her identity of as the mother of the two royal children, her delicate visage bearing the soft vulnerability that had once ensnared an emperor's heart.
Even in the realm of dreams, she bore such striking resemblance to her daughter that one might glimpse Alexa's destined future—the same ethereal beauty wrought by divine hands, the same gentle curve of cheek and brow, the same silver-gold tresses that captured light like threads of celestial silk.
Yet where Alexandra now emanated power and regal bearing, her mother appeared diminished, her spirit worn thin by countless seasons of scorn and exile within these gilded walls.
The air shimmered, reality bending like heated glass, and a portal tore open in the chamber's center. Two figures stepped through—one tall and regal, moving with the fluid grace of a master assassin, the other...
Alexa had changed.
The helpless girl who had once cowered in palace corridors was gone, replaced by a woman who carried herself like a queen.
Power flowed around her like an invisible crown, and her eyes held depths that spoke of trials endured and strength discovered. She was no longer the discarded princess—she was something far more dangerous.
Mira followed silently, her presence a whisper of lethal intent wrapped in deceptive elegance. The Phantom Venerable's eyes swept the chamber with professional assessment, cataloging threats that existed only in possibility.
Alexandra approached the bed with reverent steps, her heart constricting at the sight of her mother's weary countenance. With tender grace, she placed her hand upon the slumbering woman's shoulder.
"Mother," she whispered, her voice carrying all the love and yearning of their long separation.
Lady Evelyn's eyes fluttered open like butterfly wings, confusion clouding her gaze as she struggled to focus upon the figure beside her resting place. Recognition dawned slowly, like the first light of dawn cresting over mountain peaks, and with it came an expression of wonderment that transformed her entire being.
"Alexa?" The name escaped her lips as naught but a whisper upon the wind. "My daughter... is that...?"
"I've changed," Alexandra finished with a smile that held both sorrow and triumph. "Yes, Mother. I'm not the broken girl you remember."
Evelyn rose slowly, her hands reaching forth to touch her daughter's face as if to confirm this was no mere phantom of her longing. "You're radiant," she breathed, tears beginning to trace silver paths down her cheeks. "So beautiful, and strong, and..." Her voice faltered. "Where have you been? They said you were away from the academy, but I heard rumors... rumors about the Obsidian..."
"They're all true," Alexandra said simply, catching her mother's hands within her own. "I'm Lady Alexandra Obsidian now, Mother. Protected, loved, and stronger than I ever dreamed possible."
The reunion that followed was everything Alexandra had yearned for during her long time away—her mother's arms enfolding her, the familiar scent of jasmine and sorrow, the whispered endearments that had sustained her through the darkest of nights. Yet time was a treasure they could ill afford to spend.
"Mother," Alexandra spoke gently, drawing back to meet Evelyn's eyes, "you have to come with me. Right now."
"What? I... I don't understand—"
"Please," Alexandra's voice carried an urgency that cut through bewilderment. "I can't explain everything here, but you're not safe in this place. You never were. Trust me, the way you used to when I was just a scared little girl hiding in the dark."
Evelyn gazed into her daughter's eyes and beheld something that made her breath catch—not merely love, but absolute certainty. This was no plea born of sentiment; it was a rescue wrought by necessity.
She nodded without another word.
__
What Lady Evelyn knew not—could not fathom—was the intricate web of mana surveillance that enshrouded every woman within the imperial harem. The emperor's paranoia extended to mystical monitoring enchantments that tracked every heartbeat, every breath, every movement of his concubines. Departing the castle without his knowledge was deemed impossible, regardless of the vast distances that might separate them.
Yet impossibility held little meaning when one possessed the Young Lord of House Obsidian weaving the perfect distraction.
Even now, Pyris was methodically unraveling the emperor's composure, his every word and gesture calculated to ensnare the ancient monarch's attention entirely upon the meeting chamber. The deliberate provocations, the casual displays of otherworldly power, the infuriating calm in the face of imperial wrath—all served to forge a bubble of precious time within which other designs could unfold.
Mira comprehended the stakes better than any soul present. Three beings dwelt within the palace who could answer the emperor's summons in mere heartbeats—guardians whose might rivaled her own formidable abilities. She could best them, yet not without unleashing forces that would shatter the delicate balance Pyris maintained.
Open warfare with the Human Empire remained an option, though not the preferred path. At least not now.
Subtlety was paramount.
"Are you ready?" Mira inquired, her voice scarce above a whisper.
Evelyn cast her gaze about the chamber that had served as her prison for countless seasons, at the humble furnishings that had mocked her former station, at the window that revealed gardens she had never been permitted to walk. When she spoke, her voice carried the weariness of one who had endured far too much for far too long.
"I've been ready to leave this cursed place since the day I first turned from a maid to a neglected and 'Cursed Concubine'."
Alexa pressed her mother's hand, pride and love warring within her breast. "Then let's go home."
Mira raised her hand, shadows gathering about her fingers like living smoke wreathed in darkness. Reality began to bend and warp, space folding upon itself as a new portal rent the very fabric of the chamber's center.
"Step through quickly," Mira commanded.
Mother and daughter moved toward the portal in unity, their forms beginning to blur as they crossed the threshold between worlds. In moments, they would be beyond the emperor's reach, safely delivered unto the protection of powers that rendered imperial guards as children wielding wooden swords.
Behind them, the chamber settled back into silence, morning light continuing to stream through the latticed windows as if naught had transpired. Yet in the space where three women had stood, the very air seemed to whisper of endings and beginnings, of chains sundered and freedom claimed.
The deliverance was complete.
Now came the reckoning.