The Immortal Realm did not erupt after the fall of Cindervale.
It recoiled.
For the first time since the age of sect dominions, something vast and ancient shifted its posture. Not in panic, not in outrage, but in instinctive self-preservation. The war had ended without a treaty, without surrender documents, without banners lowered in ceremony. It ended because no one dared to continue.
Silence replaced battle cries.
And silence, Vahn knew, was never empty.
In the days following the annihilation of Cindervale, the Eastern Continent entered a state of suspended breath. Azure Dragon Sect forces withdrew fully into their core territories. Their outer formations deactivated one by one. Patrols vanished from the skies. Even their information networks went dark, cutting communication to avoid further exposure.
They had learned.
Crimson Hawk scouts reported no movement, no regrouping, no covert raids. It was not retreat born of strategy. It was retreat born of fear.
