CHAPTER 28: CHAPTER 28

Azure Origin Dao Sect, Voidshade Peak.

In the silent, cavernous depths of the Voidshade Hall, the bitter chill of high mountain air seeped across polished stone, cut through gilded curtains, and curled beneath the boots of those who called themselves favored sons of the sect.

Only two people were present within the grand, shadow-lit chamber.

One sat slouched in youthful agitation—a tall, sharp-featured young man with eyes keen as a falcon, sword calluses on his knuckles, and arrogance thick in every line of his frame.

His name was Sam, and among Voidshade Peak’s disciples, his ranking in strength, talent, and physical cultivation had become cause for envy and resentment alike.

He glowered at his master—peak master Adyr—fury simmering in his narrowed gaze.

With a wordless snarl, Sam slammed his palm down on the blackwood table, the impact reverberating up the stone ribs of the hall.

"Why?!" Sam demanded, voice echoing, brittle and sharp as cracked ice.

"Strength, talent, physical refinement—by every measure, I rank among the top ten in my generation of the Azure Origin Dao Sect. Master, why, when I have requested time and again, does the Empress still refuse to make me the saint’s protector? On what grounds?!"

Adyr’s answer came without a flicker of irritation, as calm as moonlight filtered through fog.

"Do not be so impatient, Sam. Ten years yet remain before the next Ancient Sects Spiritual Trials. There will be opportunities aplenty before then. Furthermore, three positions once belonged to the saint’s protectors. Of those, one has left the sect and returned home, another... perished in unfortunate, unexpected circumstances. The saint now stands with only a single protector. It stands to reason that, for her safety and the Empress’s peace of mind, she will require three more. When the time comes, your chances shall be high indeed."

Sam’s expression shifted, refusing to be mollified. He ground his teeth in silence, then spat.

"That Kain is the real fool. He climbed from the outer sect to become a direct disciple on Crimson Mist Peak, but only by clinging to the saint. Now, even after a decade, he’s failed to break through to the Soul Formation realm. How could someone like that possibly win the saint’s heart, let alone protect her?"

Adyr leaned forward, fingers steepled in brief contemplation. "Kain," he repeated, voice thoughtful.

"It is not certain he cherishes the saint as more than an old friend. My own investigations suggest he and the saint hail from the same remote village—camaraderie, far away from the sect, perhaps, more than desire. They are close, but not yet... entangled as couples or daoist partners."

The master’s eyes rested keenly on Sam.

"In truth, your chief competitors lie elsewhere. Lucas and Joanna—both rising stars of their peaks—pose greater threats to your position. Or..."

He paused just long enough to plant the seed of dread. "Or perhaps Ethan."

At the sound of that name, Sam’s composure cracked. "Ethan?" he repeated, barely masking his disdain.

"The same Ethan exiled by the Empress to rot at The Serene Mirror Lake ten years ago? He was a mere physical cultivator—no spiritual roots at all! How far could he possibly have gotten on flesh alone? He’s a waste, nothing more."

Adyr’s smile was thin, unhurried.

"That may be, but do not discount him. The Empress herself once considered naming Ethan her saint’s protector. It was only when the saint exposed... certain old indiscretions that Ethan’s path was blocked. If not for that, he would have stood at her right hand these ten years past. Imagine how great the Empress’s favor must have been to consider such a thing."

Sam scoffed, but anxiety worked its way under his skin.

"Master, your reasoning is sound. But Ethan spent those ten years wasting away at the Serene Mirror Lake. He’s an exile now, forgotten by those who matter. What use could the Empress possibly have for him now?"

Adyr eyed his disciple with amusement, swirling his tea.

"That’s what I too believed... until today. Word just reached my ears—the saint’s first act upon returning from her ten-year solitary cultivation was to visit Serene Mirror Lake. And she was not alone. The third commander of the Black Oath accompanied her."

Instantly, Sam’s easy arrogance faltered, replaced by wariness.

"The saint went to Serene Mirror Lake? And the third commander attended her?"

The temperature in the hall seemed to drop. Black Oath: their name alone meant secrecy, strength, and the Empress’s absolute power.

Adyr’s tone grew sharp.

"Ethan’s significance cannot be dismissed so lightly. If both the saint and the third commander are tangled with him, the repercussions could echo much farther than you suspect."

Sam’s fists clenched until his knuckles whitened. "What virtue does that kid possess to warrant such attention?! If only I could—" He stopped, jaw locked, unable to voice his frustration without sounding dangerously envious.

Adyr continued, voice now implacable and calm.

"Be careful, Sam, and remember—while right now Ethan remains a disgraced exile, if fortune shifts, he could become a powerful player in the sect. Still, so long as he is confined to Serene Mirror Lake, he is vulnerable. Just keep an eye on him—and remember, the situation could change in an instant."

Sam forced a cold, thin smile. "You needn’t worry, Master. That exile spends his days

sweeping tombs. Should trouble arise, dealing with him will be no challenge at all."

Adyr’s eyes narrowed, voice low and final.

"I will say this only once—do not cause unnecessary casualties, do not make a scene. The sect has eyes everywhere, and the Empress does not forgive fools who create chaos, no matter how justified they believe themselves. Tread carefully."

A thin, mocking smile slowly crossed Sam’s lips. "Of course, Master. There is no need for me to dirty my hands with the likes of Ethan. Dealing with a loser like that should be as easy as killing a fly."

He turned away, but his eyes burned with the quiet, patient loathing that builds worlds—or destroys them.