CHAPTER 274: CHAPTER 274 HEART

Evangeline nodded at them in acknowledgment, offering the smallest smile of polite welcome.

Behind the smile, however, her thoughts were far from settled.

Ruby had told her everything she knew.

The story of how she met Riley in the lower realms, how he took her under his wing, how he told her things no master in the immortal realm ever could.

A mortal realm wanderer at first glance—but even then, something about him had defied all common sense.

He moved like a scholar, dressed like a traveler, yet held himself like a monarch of the stars.

Evangeline had been intrigued, even cautious at first.

It wasn’t unusual for immortals to descend to lower realms.

But what had truly caught her attention was the rumor—that Riley had faced heavenly tribulation just to ascend to the immortal realm.

That shouldn’t have been possible.

Someone of his caliber, someone who could inspire such instinctual awe, should never have needed to face the Heavenly Tribulation at all.

He should have walked into the immortal realm as if through a misty threshold, unchallenged and untouched.

Why would someone so powerful need to face tribulation? she wondered again.

Of course, she didn’t ask. She wouldn’t dare.

True immortals like her were unpredictable by nature.

Their paths twisted in ways mortals and even lesser cultivators could never understand.

Some sealed themselves for millennia on a whim.

Others destroyed their own cultivation just to rebuild it in pursuit of obscure philosophies.

Some even split their souls into fragments and scattered them across the universe to experience countless lives all at once.

She had lived long enough to know better than to judge such things by the standards of ordinary beings.

Still... something gnawed at her.

As Riley calmly listened on his seat, his robe fluttering slightly despite the lack of wind, she found her gaze lingering on him longer than it should have.

Her instincts stirred again, and this time they whispered something she had not allowed herself to consider fully until now.

What if this is not even his real body?

The idea alone chilled her to the core.

Her breath caught faintly in her throat, but she masked it well with a sip of fragrant wine.

She studied him closer.

His movements were fluid, but restrained.

His aura, while heavy and ancient, felt too perfectly contained—like a caged ocean or a sun behind a curtain of clouds.

There was no fluctuation, no lapses. No imperfections.

That could only mean one thing.

This might be a clone, she realized. Or a projection of his soul. A mere strand of thought given form.

And if that was true...

If even a fragment of this man could command the respect of an entire clan, silence elders with a glance, and carry a mythical beast on his shoulder like a pet—then the real Riley... the true body... must be something unimaginable.

A knot of fear coiled in her stomach.

If this is a clone... and this clone alone could reduce me to dust with a thought, then what kind of force would his real self be?

She was not a weak woman.

She was a matriarch who had held her position unchallenged for epochs.

She had seen ancient beasts fall, watched arrogant geniuses burn under their own pride, and even exchanged blows with dark immortals of the outer realms.

There were few beings in existence she would instinctively fear.

But Riley was now one of them.

Her respect for him had already been immense, but now it ballooned into something far deeper. Something close to reverence.

I must never cross this man. Never allow my clan to offend him. Not even in the slightest.

The shiver that ran down her spine was so subtle that none noticed, but inside, her resolve hardened like divine steel.

Across the hall, the atmosphere remained subdued.

Guests, elders, and disciples alike glanced discreetly at Riley from the corners of their eyes.

The young ones whispered among themselves in hushed awe, their voices trembling with curiosity and fear.

Even the proudest cultivators among them bowed their heads slightly as he passed—instinctively aware that they were in the presence of something beyond understanding.

And still, Riley said nothing.

He took his seat at the table of honor with quiet grace, resting one hand on Fluffy’s soft fur, his eyes sweeping the hall not with arrogance, but with quiet interest.

He wasn’t here for dominance. He wasn’t here to flaunt his strength.

But the very fact that he didn’t need to... made him all the more terrifying.

Evangeline stood by his side briefly, keeping her posture respectful, her voice measured as she spoke to him.

"We hope the Raven Clan’s hospitality is to your liking, Senior Riley," she said softly, her heart still racing beneath her composed exterior.

"If there is anything that displeases you, even the smallest thing, do not hesitate to speak."

Her words were sincere.

Because in her mind, one truth had already been etched like a law of nature:

If this man wanted her clan to vanish from existence, it would.

And so, with smiles on their faces and storm clouds in their thoughts, the feast began in earnest—while the immortal realm continued to turn, unaware that its fate had just brushed shoulders with the shadow of a being far older than time itself.

Still, even amidst the grandeur of the feast and the responsibility of playing host to someone as mysterious and powerful as Riley, Evangeline Raven did not forget her duties as matriarch.

With practiced grace, she excused herself from the banquet for a brief moment and retreated to a quiet chamber hidden behind the main hall.

There, under the warm glow of a spiritual lamp, she picked up a brush and parchment laced with silver-threaded runes and began writing a letter by hand.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she dipped the brush into the ink, and for good reason—this letter was not a simple message, but a matter of utmost importance to her clan’s survival.

She addressed it to her husband, the secluded patriarch of the Raven Clan, who had been in closed-door cultivation for centuries now. His cultivation chamber was deep within the core of a forbidden mountain range, shielded by deadly formations and spiritual beasts.

Yet she knew her letter would reach him.

The courier she had chosen was a storm-winged nightcrane, a beast raised in their clan for thousands of years for this exact purpose—swift, silent, and able to pass through high-tier formations undetected.

As her brush danced over the paper, Evangeline summarized the events of the evening: the arrival of a young man named Riley, introduced by their daughter Ruby as her master; his calm yet terrifying presence; the way he saw through her soul as if it were an open book.

She wrote of the women who traveled with him, all powerful cultivators in their own right, and of a creature—Fluffy—that the elders dared not name aloud, a sacred beast with alchemical significance enough to cause war among empires.

But most importantly, she wrote of Riley’s terrifying claim: that he was from the Abode of the Ancient One—a mythical realm spoken of only in the most ancient records and whispered in awe even among true immortals.

A place that scholars believed to be nothing more than a spiritual metaphor, not a real location.

Evangeline knew better now.

The moment she felt Riley’s gaze pierce through her soul, she believed it.

This was no ordinary cultivator.

If anything, he might not be a cultivator at all—but something far beyond that.

Once she sealed the letter with a drop of her blood essence, the storm-winged nightcrane was summoned and sent soaring into the endless night.

The message would reach her husband by morning.

When she returned to the banquet hall, the air was still buzzing with energy.

Exotic wines flowed like rivers, spiritual fruits sparkled like jewels on silver trays, and celestial melodies played softly in the background.

Yet Evangeline remained vigilant, despite the festivities. She made her rounds with practiced ease—conversing lightly with Riley’s companions, offering her finest hospitality—but her real focus was on Riley himself.

She tried, with subtle grace, to guide their conversation toward learning more about him.

But what startled her was how freely he spoke.

He didn’t posture like most powerful cultivators, didn’t veil his words in mystery or parables.

He was direct, almost blunt at times. That only made him more unnerving.

A being with power so immense that he no longer needed to hide behind pretenses.

It was during a lull in conversation, between sips of immortal peach wine, that Riley spoke again.

"Prepare for tomorrow," he said casually, "We’ll visit the clan that wants to marry my maid Ruby away."

The hall quieted slightly at his words, the musicians missing a note before quickly recovering. Evangeline’s heart skipped a beat.

"Isn’t that too soon, Senior?" she asked respectfully, lowering her gaze.

"Shouldn’t we give the Forge Clan prior notice before we arrive at their gates?"