Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne

A masked man appeared without a sound in a small, seemingly empty room carved out of dark stone. The smooth walls reflected no light, and the only glow came from a window through which the radiance of seven moons poured in. He sat slowly at a narrow table, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes halfway.

He sighed quietly. His thoughts circled one problem: the Frozen Empress Sect.

One of the few supersects on the continent. He once heard an informant speak of a cultivator who, in a moment of danger, vanished into radiant mist and reappeared on the other side of the continent thanks to an activated internal formation. Another managed to pull an entire team from the jaws of death by opening a dimension stored in her heart. These weren't myths—they were the kind of precautions supersects placed on their greatest talents. A supersect would surely have tricks he didn't know about, and they could not afford to let anyone escape...

He began tapping a finger against the tabletop in an even rhythm. It wouldn't be a problem… if he sealed their entire headquarters within his own dimension. There, all spatial techniques, even those rooted in soul cores, would become mere child's play. But with each tap of his finger, he felt the weight of the decision. Revealing himself this early was too risky... Even if he trusted his concealment techniques, even the faintest trace of his Qi could leave marks that, in time, might lead others to realize he was alive. On the other hand, without him, the attack might still succeed—but there would surely be escapees who would reveal their secret of the humanoid monsters...

His fingers continued their rhythm, as if trying to sync with something invisible. The furrow of his brows betrayed the tension beneath his calm expression. Suddenly, his fingers stopped. His lips twitched slightly. The corners of his mouth lifted, almost imperceptibly, as if he had found the answer to a riddle he hadn't yet asked.

"Lilianne."

She had the Qi imitation technique. If combined with his own... she might disperse his spiritual trace to the point of near-nonexistence. But... would she endure it? If it was just for a few seconds, she should be able to withstand it and handle it...

The thought remained—what would happen after one of the four supersects disappeared? In his mind, he saw envoys from other factions gathering in haste, elders of sects calling emergency meetings. Some would drown in fear, others would gaze into the dark with heightened vigilance. Every spark of dread could easily become a flame of caution.

The masked man started tapping again.

"Or maybe... he should create even greater chaos?"

He smiled. He'd have to speak with those two pompous fools—The Black Flame Grandmaster and The Golden Dragon Grandmaster.

"Truly... such grand names for men with such small souls," he muttered, snorting.

His gaze fell on the empty spot on the table. For a long moment, he was silent, as if the surface might answer him. His eyes narrowed, and the muscles in his jaw tensed as his thoughts circled the most difficult element of the plan.

Killing them would be simple. But capturing them?

His imagination brought him visions of faces twisted with determination, fingers reaching for self-destruction seals. If even one of them managed to kill herself or another, the domino effect would unravel all their efforts. In the end, a person cornered could make the most desperate choices.

It wasn't just about sealing space and the reactions of other sects—that was only part of the plan. The goal was to ensure that not even the thought of escape or death crossed their minds. Only then did the plan have a chance to succeed.

On the other hand... the Frozen Empress Sect was known for its unity. No rebellions, no betrayals. "One for all. All for one," wasn't it?

His smile deepened.

"Alright. I think I know now."

He reached to his face and removed the mask. Moonlight danced across his cheeks. He looked up to the sky, where seven moons glowed, each pulsing with a different color.

***

At the same time, far away, a young girl was also gazing at the same moons through a tall window made of polished crystal. Sylphia leaned against the frame, her hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea. Shadows danced across her cheeks, and her eyes reflected the moonlight.

"Mom?" she asked softly. "Is it true that the seven moons are gods?"

Veynessa, who had just approached behind her, smiled with quiet amusement.

"It's an old legend. Supposedly, long ago, seven beings from another world came to this dimension, chasing someone... or something. They were too powerful to exist on this earth, so their presence was 'split' among the moons."

Sylphia looked at her with curiosity.

"And then?"

"I have no idea," she replied after a moment. "There used to be books describing the meaning of each moon, their stories, and connections to spiritual paths. But over time, they were lost, destroyed, or forgotten. Now, no one really knows what they mean."

Sylphia stared at the moons a moment longer, enchanted by their light. Her eyes shimmered with a silver hue.

Veynessa said nothing more. She stepped closer and wrapped her arm around her daughter, leaning in slightly.

"Time for bed, little star," she whispered tenderly.

Sylphia grimaced slightly and stepped aside, as if she wanted to stay a bit longer.

"Just a moment more..." she murmured.

"No. Tomorrow will be a long day," Veynessa replied with mock sternness and gently took her hand.

The girl sighed but allowed herself to be led. She glanced back once more through the window, her hand tightening around her mother's.

"They're beautiful," she finally said.

For a moment, neither spoke. Veynessa simply watched her daughter's face, memorizing every curve of her expression.

"Yes. But sometimes beauty shines brightest just before it becomes terrifying," Veynessa replied softly, without breaking stride.

Sylphia furrowed her brows, glancing at her sideways. Her mother's words echoed within her, their meaning not yet fully understood, but Veynessa didn't continue the thought.

They crossed the rest of the room in silence. When they reached the bed, Veynessa helped her daughter change and tuck under the blanket. Sylphia looked at her mother's hand for a moment longer before closing her eyes.

Moments later, both were asleep.

***

At the same time, in one of the palaces of the inner zone, Aldrich was reviewing a pile of documents spread out over a table of black jade. The door opened quietly, and a servant entered, holding a sealed letter.

"From Lady Veynessa, my lord," he said and handed over the scroll.

Aldrich accepted it wordlessly, unrolled it, and scanned its contents. His brows furrowed, and his lips tightened. He sighed softly, set the letter down, and reached for a blank parchment to jot down a few words.

"Deliver this to Kaelron personally. Immediately," he ordered coolly.

The servant bowed and disappeared through the door. Aldrich sighed again, quietly, almost inaudibly.

"The third time in the last few months..." he muttered to himself, returning to the next batch of documents.

A few minutes later, the door slid open again without a sound. A lower servant entered, holding a scroll.

"Report on young men in supersects, my lord. As requested."

Aldrich nodded, not lifting his eyes from the document before him.

"Place it there," he indicated the side of the desk with a motion.

He didn't reach for the report. He didn't even look at it. The sound of the servant's soft steps faded beyond the door as Aldrich once again immersed himself in the thicket of parchments.

***

The next morning, Veynessa stretched lightly and rose from the bed, adjusting the silk strap of her nightgown. Sylphia was already sitting at the edge of the bed, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

A moment later, both left the room and descended to the inn's reception. Without a word, Veynessa handed the key to the innkeeper, who bowed respectfully and stowed it behind the counter. She and Sylphia exchanged a glance and headed toward the exit.

As they stepped onto the street, Sylphia stopped suddenly, captivated by the sight.

The city was nothing like Kiran City. Bright, white-stone streets gleamed in the morning sun. At each corner stood statues of golden jade depicting strange figures. Fountains gently spilled water where children played. A subtle scent of lotus and incense filled the air.

On the rooftops, protective formations pulsed with a steady rhythm—as if the city itself were breathing. Elegantly dressed women strolled along the marketplace, and floating trade ships created a living image of harmony and power.

Sylphia looked at her mother with wonder in her eyes.

"This city is way prettier than Kiran City," she whispered.

The scent in the air, the quiet elegance of every structure, even the breeze felt different—like the city was alive, breathing its own story, waiting to be understood.

Veynessa only smiled faintly, her thoughts hidden behind her gaze.