The obsidian collar was a cold, constant reminder of her captivity. It sat against her skin, a slick, polished shackle that hummed with a low level energy designed to suppress the vast ocean of her power, reducing it to a shallow, manageable pond. Humiliation burned in Lan Yue's chest, a fire that had to be channeled into action. She would not be a docile guest. She would test her cage.
For two days, she observed. The timid imp, Gleeb, brought her meals each one inexplicably more delicious and artfully presented than anything she'd eaten at the sect. The Empress herself did not return, leaving Lan Yue to seethe in silence. She studied the door's mechanisms, the flow of energy in the walls, the patterns of the guards she could sense outside. The wards were complex, but her mind, even deprived of its full power, was still that of a peak expert.
On the third day, she acted. When Gleeb entered with her lunch a delicate salad of shimmering greens and roasted, unidentified meat that smelled amazing Lan Yue moved. It wasn't the blinding speed she was accustomed to, but it was enough. She slipped behind him, her hand chopping precisely at a pressure point on his neck. The little imp squeaked and crumpled into a heap, snoring softly.
A pang of guilt, wholly unexpected, shot through her. She laid him on the plush rug gently. He is a demon, she reminded herself sternly. This is necessary.
She peeked into the corridor. It was empty. This was her chance.
Her plan was simple: head east, as the Empress had so bizarrely suggested. It was either a trap or an arrogant taunt. Either way, it was a direction.
She slipped out, moving with a stealth that felt clumsy and leaden without her cultivation to enhance it. Every sense was muted. It was terrifying.
But the palace itself was the second shock. It wasn't the dripping, bone strewn cavern of nightmare and sermon she'd been taught to expect. The corridors were wide, clean, and well lit by those same floating phantom orbs, casting a soft, warm light. The air smelled of polish and the faint, exotic scent of the night blooming flowers from the vases placed at regular intervals. Tapestries depicted intricate constellations and serene landscapes, not scenes of torture.
She turned a corner and froze. Two hulking Oni guards were stationed at a junction. Their backs were to her. Lan Yue pressed herself against the wall, heart hammering, ready to fight her way through with the pathetic dregs of her power.
One of the Oni shifted, his horned head turning slightly. He sniffed the air. "You smell that? Chef Mao's doing the Five Alarm Hellboar tonight. My shift ends just in time."
The other Oni grunted in agreement. "Better than the slop we used to get. The new Empress knows her kitchens, I'll give her that."
They then resumed their discussion on the merits of braising versus roasting, completely oblivious to the righteous saint hiding mere feet away.
Lan Yue blinked. Slowly, carefully, she slid past them, her mind reeling. They were discussing… cuisine?
Her escape continued in this surreal fashion. She passed a group of lesser demons, their forms shifting and smoky, who were diligently polishing the mother of pearl inlays on the walls with soft cloths. One looked up, its glowing eyes meeting hers.
She braced for an alarm.
Instead, the demon dipped its head in a respectful bow. "Honored Guest," it whispered, before returning to its polishing.
Stunned, Lan Yue kept moving. She passed open doorways that revealed libraries with demons quietly reading, gardens where strange, beautiful plants were being tended by robed figures, and even what looked like a bustling, clean kitchen where the savory smells originated.
Every demon she saw was… clothed. Well fed. They looked focused, even content. There was no sense of frantic malice or cowering fear. When they saw her, they didn't snarl or attack. They bowed. They murmured "Honored Guest" and went about their business.
It was the most disorienting experience of her life. This wasn't a demonic realm; it was a bizarrely well run and peaceful municipality. A very, very dark and aesthetically gothic one, but a municipality nonetheless.
She finally found a smaller door that seemed to lead to an outer courtyard. This is it, she thought. The east exit. The Empress's trap. She pushed the door open, expecting a battalion of demons, a pit of spikes, a killer formation.
She found a garden.
It was a manicured space with winding paths of black gravel. The plants here were lush and vibrant, many glowing with their own soft bioluminescence. A small, crystal clear stream a real water stream, not lava trickled through it. Benches made of smooth, warm stone were placed in secluded nooks.
And sitting on one of those benches, sipping from a delicate porcelain cup, was Empress Xue Lian.
She wasn't surrounded by guards. She was alone. She looked up as Lan Yue emerged, a faint smile on her lips. She didn't look surprised.
"Took you longer than I expected," the Empress said, her voice mild. "I was beginning to think you actually liked the room. The east corridor wards were satisfactory, I assume? No feedback? Good."
Lan Yue just stood there, in the middle of the peaceful demonic garden, her escape attempt utterly deflated. She wasn't captured. She was… met.
"Why?" The word burst from Lan Yue's lips, filled with more confusion than anger. "Why is it like this? The bows? The… the gardens? The talking about food? This isn't what you're supposed to be!"
Xue Lian took a slow sip of her tea. "What are we 'supposed to be,' Disciple Lan? Mindless beasts? Chaotic monsters? According to who?" She gestured to the bench opposite her. "Sit. The tea is still warm. It's from a plant that only blooms under the light of the violet stars. It's quite calming."
Defeated not by force, but by overwhelming, surreal civility, Lan Yue found herself slowly walking over and sitting down. She didn't touch the tea.
Xue Lian watched her, those fox like eyes missing nothing. "You've been taught that we are a realm of evil. I am simply showing you that we are a realm of people. Some are good. Some are bad. Most are just trying to get by, enjoy a good meal, and provide for their families. It's not very different from your sect, just with more… pointy bits."
She leaned forward. "The bows are because I told them you are an honored guest, vital to the future of the Dynasty. They trust me. The clothes and the food are because I find misery to be poor motivation for loyalty. And the garden," she said, smiling slightly, "is because even I get tired of looking at obsidian all day. It's bad for the feng shui."
Lan Yue stared at her, her righteous worldview cracking under the weight of a well dressed, tea sipping tyrant who complained about interior design. The fear was still there, the anger at her captivity was still there, but it was now buried under a mountain of sheer, unadulterated bewilderment.
Her great escape had ended not in a battle, but in a tea party. And that was somehow far more terrifying.