Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne

It took several days for the girls to finally leave the frozen canyon behind, its towering walls vanishing into the sky and icy paths stretching like bridges over the abyss. In silence, they reached the place that now unfolded before them—a flat, white expanse shrouded in thick, sticky mist.

They all stopped at the same time, as if they had sensed the boundary of danger.

"Misty Edge," Saeri said softly.

Naleira nodded and looked at the two girls.

"I'm counting on you," she said to the first one, Caireen, who immediately brought her hands together and activated her technique.

Then she turned to the second—a tall, slender girl with an alert gaze.

"You're leading now, Thalia."

Yareen watched everything tensely. Misty Edge... It was spoken of in the sect with reverence. The mist wasn't a natural phenomenon. It was laced with toxins and distorted the senses of anyone within it. Only a few disciples had the specializations needed to safely navigate such places.

Caireen, still focused, spread her arms. Her fingers shimmered, and a translucent dome enveloped the group. The mist, which moments ago clung to their skin, now bounced off the barrier like water on ice.

Thalia closed her eyes. After a moment, her pupils glowed with a milky light that gradually filled her irises until they became uniform and gleaming like frosted mirrors. Fine veins around her eyes turned silver, as if strands of icy Qi bloomed beneath her skin. When she opened them, it was as if she were looking both here and somewhere far away—a place the rest of them could not see.

"Alright," she said. "I can lead."

"Good." Naleira nodded. She glanced at the girls. "We're speeding up. We have to cross the Edge as fast as possible."

The girls nodded and set off. Thalia in front, Naleira right behind her, then Caireen with the barrier. Yareen ran alongside Saeri, feeling the silence of the mist seep into her mind. She could see nothing beyond a few steps ahead. The sky, the ground, the horizon—all vanished, leaving only milky whiteness.

They ran for several minutes, each focused on her breathing and Thalia's movements. The mist was impenetrable, and the silence numbed their senses as if the outside world had ceased to exist.

Suddenly, Thalia stopped.

Yareen, too absorbed in trying to understand the mist, failed to react in time and bumped lightly into Saeri's back. Saeri glanced at her sideways, saying nothing. Yareen raised her chin slightly and gave a small apologetic nod. Saeri returned the gesture with a barely perceptible nod and turned her gaze back to Thalia.

Thalia looked back, frowned, and then silently turned left.

"Why are we turning?" Yareen whispered.

It was barely a whisper, but in the dead silence of the mist, every girl heard it.

Thalia didn't look back, but answered in a calm, confident tone:

"There was a steep canyon right ahead."

Yareen stopped a few steps behind Thalia and stared forward. The milky mist consumed everything, even the shadow of the ground's edge. She tried to see something—any outline, movement, trace of rock—but there was nothing beyond the matte wall of silence. Her heart pounded as she realized that a single step more could have sent her plummeting.

She turned her head slightly and looked at Thalia, whose eyes still glowed with icy light. She ran calmly, without fear. In that silent world, she alone could see.

The girls continued running. Thalia turned now and then, sometimes right, sometimes back. They all trusted her and followed without question.

***

Meanwhile, inside the sect, in one of the highest chambers of the ice palace, four elders sat in a circle. Around them, formation lines still glowed faintly, warm from their shared meditation.

"It's done," Elder Vaelra muttered, lowering her hands from a prayerful posture.

"I feel lighter," Elder Miran added. "Though the unease remains."

"Do you think our Mistress has reached the duel's location?" Elder Renashi asked.

"Certainly," Elder Kaelis replied. "She volunteered to be the arbiter, after all. She wanted to see what the Black Flame Grandmaster and the Golden Dragon Grandmaster are scheming."

"The first one's obvious," Vaelra scoffed. "He's always been in conflict with the Burning Phoenix Clan. But why did the other one challenge the Mystic Moon Sect? They've always been neutral."

Kaelis raised an eyebrow.

"That's exactly why Mistress Elvaria Frostveil took an interest. If something's going on, she'll get to the bottom of it."

Miran fell silent, but then spoke softly:

"For the past few days, I've had a bad feeling," she said at last, almost whispering. "And... snow fox spirits have started appearing in my dreams."

The other elders froze. Even Vaelra, usually skeptical, raised her brows with concern.

"Are you sure?" Kaelis asked, though she already knew the answer.

Among the members of the Frozen Empress Sect, the snow fox spirit was one of the oldest and rarest omens. It did not herald disaster outright, but always appeared when something was about to drastically change the sect's fate. It was a symbol of transition: death, rebirth, betrayal... or the birth of power.

"They always stand at the border of ice and shadow," Miran said. "They never come closer. But this time... I feel something is calling them."

A heavy silence fell, like a blizzard.

"If that's true..." Renashi began but didn't finish.

They all looked at each other, then turned to Kaelis.

"Let's wait for Mistress to return," Kaelis said at last. "Then we'll decide what to do next."

The others didn't reply immediately. But their gazes showed how serious this was. If Miran had a premonition... she had never been wrong before.

All of them nodded at once.

***

When the mist finally faded, and light began to pierce the snowy air again, the girls emerged on the other side of the Misty Edge.

Thalia looked like she had run across the entire continent. Her eyes were red, and her chest heaved with exhaustion.

The rest appeared relatively fine, though weariness was evident on their faces after hours of continuous, fast running.

Suddenly, Naleira approached Thalia. For a moment, she simply looked at her—trembling shoulders, reddened eyes, ragged breath. Her gaze shifted to the other girls. She sighed softly, as if making a decision, and looked Thalia straight in the eyes.

Without a word, she raised her hand and touched Thalia's chin, leaning in slowly. Thalia didn't have time to ask or pull back—in the next moment, their lips met. Warmth surged through her skin like a wave, carrying with it a familiar yet foreign pulse of Qi. Naleira stayed like that for a long moment, calm and focused, then gently pulled away as if nothing had happened.

Thalia froze, utterly stunned.

When Naleira stepped back, she nodded solemnly:

"You should feel better now."

Thalia stared at her in shock. Her cheeks flushed, color rising all the way to her ears. But after a moment, her breathing stabilized. She noticed something else—her Qi was nearly fully restored.

"W-what... what was that...?" she asked, flustered.

"My ability." Naleira smiled and winked. "I transfer Qi through direct contact. Lips are just the most convenient."

The girls watched in stunned silence, unsure how to react. But Naleira behaved as if nothing unusual had happened. Her gaze swept over the others, assessing their condition—a few deep breaths, sweat on their temples, but no signs of true exhaustion.

"It's already late afternoon," she said calmly, turning away. "But judging by your state, you've still got strength. We keep running."

Without looking back, she set off at a steady, swift pace. The others exchanged brief glances but said nothing—they simply followed their leader.

Yareen, watching Naleira, noticed a faint blush appear on her ear. She didn't comment. She just ran, trying to catch up with the rest who were already closing the distance.

***

The wind lifted grains of sand, painting swirling spirals above the scorched desert. The sky was the color of burned ash, and the horizon blurred in waves of heat. And there, amidst the desolate emptiness, a terrifyingly beautiful woman appeared.

Elvaria Frostveil landed soundlessly. Her long, silvery-white hair fell down her back like a braid of icy mist, and her cool, pearlescent eyes gleamed with a serenity that could halt even a sandstorm. Every movement of her robes felt ritualistic—soft as silk, yet imbued with unspeakable power. Her presence radiated otherworldly majesty.

Where her feet touched the ground, desert sand began to freeze. Ice crystals spread outward in concentric rings, as if nature itself welcomed its Ice Queen. Against the desert heat, the cold around Elvaria felt unreal—a dream that shouldn't exist in this reality.

Before her, standing slightly in the shadow of a rocky outcrop, was a hunched old man leaning on a cane. His robes were simple, almost ascetic, and his face was lined with wrinkles as deep as time itself. He might have been mistaken for a shepherd, a sage, or someone long forgotten by history. But Elvaria knew him all too well.

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

"It's good to see you again, Pharos. It's been many years."

The old man nodded with a dignity no one would expect from his posture.

"Elvaria," he replied softly. "It's been a long time since anyone said my name with such sincerity. The honor is mine."

Elvaria raised an eyebrow gently.

"Did the royal family send you? I always thought you preferred lazy days in a hammock with a book to actual work."

Pharos sighed, his face contorting in a grimace that was both pained and absurd. In his mind, he saw the youthful face of Kaen and that look of arrogance and superiority.

"Honestly, I hoped to avoid this..." he muttered. "But yes, they sent me. The duel seems suspicious. The kingdom wants to ensure it doesn't spark a war between two lunatics."

Elvaria nodded solemnly.

"Wise."

Pharos squinted, looking around the wasteland.

"But why the hell am I the one waiting?! They set a specific time, and no one shows up! Instead of enjoying retirement, I'm roasting under the sun like a damned mushroom on a skillet!"

Suddenly, the air trembled. From a swirl of flames, a figure emerged—slender, confident, radiating heat.

"Don't get upset, Pharos," a voice said with a light chuckle. "You'll lose what's left of your hair."