Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne

The explosion tore the sky apart.

The earth erupted in light so blinding that, for a fraction of a second, nothing existed but whiteness. The forest vanished. The echo of the blast rolled through the land like the howl of a fallen god.

Then came silence.

A cloud of dust hovered where the soil once was. A crater stretched for hundreds of meters, gaping and hollow. In its center, amid the ash and ruin, stood a single, strange shadow—unattached to any object, illogical, defying reality itself.

From that shadow, three figures emerged.

Veynessa was breathing heavily, cradling the limp body of Sylphia against her chest. Her eyelids trembled, and her gaze wandered without focus, as if for a moment, she had forgotten where she was or what had happened. When her eyes fell upon the child in her arms, her pupils sharpened, and clarity returned. She exhaled with relief.

"Shadow..." she murmured, glancing toward her companion.

The figure of darkness nodded at her.

"I'm... tired," he said quietly. His body looked almost transparent, his face—usually obscured—appeared nearly human now, as if the shadow was unraveling. His black eyes seemed dull, lifeless, devoid of their usual depth.

Veynessa nodded.

"Thank you."

He didn't answer. He simply vanished, melting back into her shadow.

Only then did Veynessa look up.

The sky... Through the gaps in the dust above the rim of the crater, she saw the blue sky streaked with white clouds. Sunlight spilled into the void like the blessing of forgotten gods.

No more rocks loomed above her. No ceiling. No cave. She stood at the heart of devastation, and above her stretched the open world. The clouds drifted slowly, peacefully, as if no tragedy had ever occurred.

She held her breath, gazing upward, only now realizing the sheer scale of the blast.

"What the..."

Her voice broke. Her heartbeat quickened. This wasn't just an explosion. It was... erasure. A complete annihilation of reality in a radius of hundreds of meters. Had Shadow not acted so swiftly, even she wouldn't have escaped unscathed. And Sylphia... she didn't even want to think about it.

She glanced down at her arm where her daughter rested. A flicker of relief crossed her face—she was unharmed.

Veynessa's gaze swept across the cracked, scorched earth. Everywhere she looked, there was only ash and desolation. Where ritual markings should have been, the ground was smooth as glass. Fragments of the altar had vanished without a trace. No energy lines. No runes. No residue of Essence.

As if someone had wiped the entire scene clean—erasing any evidence of what had transpired.

"Nothing remains. Not a single trace of the ritual. Not a scrap of energy. As if someone wanted to erase everything..."

Veynessa closed her eyes and focused, sending out a subtle pulse of spiritual perception. Waves of awareness radiated from her, sweeping over the crater for hundreds of meters. She stood still for a long moment, searching for any clue of those responsible. But... nothing. Only ash and emptiness. No one remained. No one observed. The space was dead—as if the perpetrators had long vanished, leaving behind only a void where memory used to be.

She frowned.

"How? Where did that cult get such technology?"

With a sigh, she looked toward the sky.

"Local cultivators will arrive soon. I need to send a full report to the castle. What happened here..."

Lifting Sylphia, she turned and walked toward the forest.

***

A few kilometers away.

The air shimmered gently, like heatwaves rising from asphalt. From the outside, it looked like a normal forest clearing: moss, trees, sunlight trickling through the canopy. But something was off. Stare too long, and the contours wavered, like reflections on thin glass. The barrier was invisible, yet it could be felt in the bones—like pressure before a storm.

Inside sat two women.

One had pale skin and sleek black hair tied in a high, messy ponytail, with a single strand provocatively brushing her cheek. Her lips were painted a matte, deep violet, standing in stark contrast to her cold complexion. She wore a fitted graphite corset laced at the front, hugging her waist like a second skin, and a short, asymmetrical leather skirt adorned with silver clasps. Fishnet stockings ended just above her thighs, held by straps to tall black boots with thick heels. A lightweight, dark violet cloak hung over her shoulders, barely reaching her shoulder blades. Her features were sharp and predatory, her gaze laced with cold amusement.

The other appeared human—at first glance. Tall and slender, with porcelain skin and golden eyes that shimmered like glass but held no reflection of a soul. Her long, wavy blonde hair glowed faintly, as if kissed by sunlight. She wore a flowing, mint-green silk dress trimmed with ruffles and dotted with tiny crystals that sparkled with her every movement. She looked like a fairy-tale aristocrat—sweet, gentle, unreal. And yet... nine fluffy, elegant tails floated behind her, and two fox ears twitched atop her head, sensing sounds beyond human perception.

"Who would've thought they'd send someone at the Seventh Stage," scoffed the dark-haired woman, tracing the edge of her boot with a nail. Her eyes followed Veynessa's silhouette as if admiring a rare trophy.

The fox tilted her head, watching the figure vanish in the distance.

"Likely a coincidence. If they knew what was happening here, they'd have sent someone stronger—weeks ago, not after a month."

The dark-haired woman crossed her legs and sighed theatrically.

"And that cult... They were supposed to lay low and perform the ritual. They got the equipment. The hideout. And still managed to turn it into a circus of incompetence."

The fox shrugged with the grace of someone who never cared for pawns.

"Doesn't matter. At least we tested the madman's bombs. One blast, and under the right conditions, they can wound a cultivator of the Seventh Stage."

"At least we gathered some energy from the ritual," the woman muttered.

The fox nodded slightly.

"Let's go. We've done what we came to do. Time to disappear."

The woman narrowed her eyes, still watching Veynessa.

"Why not eliminate her now? That helper of hers must be exhausted. Together, we have over a 90% chance to take her out."

The fox was silent for a moment.

"We do... but killing her gains us nothing. And it would expose us too soon. The plan would crack. It's not the right moment."

The woman in fishnets wasn't listening. Her gaze lingered on Veynessa with a mix of fascination and primal hunger. Her predatory smirk faded, replaced by something darker—intimate and ominous. In her eyes shimmered something between desire and the ecstasy of violence. Her tongue lazily traced her lips. Her body tensed like a cat before a pounce.

The fox glanced at her companion. Her expression remained unchanged, but a flicker of cold authority flashed in her golden eyes.

"Control your urges," she said softly—no anger, only a warning. "This isn't the time for indulgence. We follow his plan. He doesn't tolerate deviation."

The woman scoffed, adjusting her cloak.

"Since when do monsters play it safe? Don't tell me you've lost your claws."

The fox didn't reply. She turned and vanished into the brush.

The woman lingered, watching Veynessa's path. A lazy smile spread across her lips. She slowly licked her lower lip.

"Next time, sword princess... we'll fight. And then I'll hear every sound you choke back when it hurts the most."

She turned and followed the fox, her steps light and feline, like a predator stalking prey. Her smile lingered a moment longer.

***

The next morning, Sylphia stirred, her brow furrowing as she opened her eyes. For a few seconds, she stared blankly at the ceiling, as if the world around her made no sense. Then she bolted upright, gasping for breath.

"I won't tell you anything! I'll never tell you anything!" she screamed, as if trapped in a nightmare. Her voice was shrill, soaked in fear and confusion.

Her frantic gaze darted around the room. Pale blue walls, curtains swaying in the morning breeze, familiar bedding wrapping her limbs, flowers on the windowsill. Warmth under her back, softness of the pillow, texture of the blanket. Everything too ordinary to be real. As if the nightmare had only been a dream. But her heart pounded wildly, and her hands trembled.

Her eyes locked onto Veynessa sitting in a nearby chair, smiling softly and shaking her head in quiet amusement.

"It was a dream..." Sylphia whispered.

"Unfortunately not," Veynessa said gently. "But you're safe now."

Sylphia lowered her gaze.

"What actually happened?" she asked softly, not looking up.

Veynessa leaned back in her chair, sighing with a faint smile.

"Well, sometimes to catch bad people, you need to use unpleasant tricks," she said with almost a hint of guilt. "And just as I expected... they couldn't resist someone as sweet as you. But... they regretted that very quickly."

Sylphia stared at her mother, processing the words. Her brows furrowed into a thin line.

"Did you... use me as bait?" she asked cautiously.

Veynessa looked away, not answering immediately.

Sylphia's expression darkened, but then she remembered something else.

"The other kids... I couldn't find them. Were they taken too?"

Veynessa met her gaze and nodded slowly.

"Yes. But I took care of them. They're safe now. I'm sorry, sweetie, but because of our extended stay in that town, we're in another city already—they're still back there. Hopefully, you'll see them again someday."

Sylphia nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. She exhaled, a soft sigh of relief. A smile—shy, but genuine—flickered across her face.

"Where are we now?"