Dorian and Valentina reappeared inside the heart of a colossal volcano.
The air shimmered with unbearable heat, molten rock glowing and bubbling around them, yet strangely, neither of them felt even the slightest burn.
It was as if an invisible shield wrapped around them, protecting them from the scorching inferno.
"This is…" Valentina began, her voice trailing off in awe and disbelief.
It was her first time in this place, and for a fleeting moment, fear gnawed at her.
She wondered if Dorian had lured her here to satisfy some dark, lewd desire.
But when she extended her spiritual sense, allowing it to sweep through the space, all her suspicions were instantly replaced by shock and awe.
In the very center of the volcano, suspended just an inch above the molten lava, sat an old man in a perfect lotus position.
His long, flowing white robes seemed untouched by the heat, and his hair and beard, pure as snow, framed a face both serene and impossibly powerful.
An aura of majesty and authority radiated from him, so overwhelming that Valentina felt her body instinctively bow in respect.
The moment she saw him, recognition struck her like a lightning bolt—this was the man she had heard about all her life.
Before she could speak, Dorian vanished from her side and reappeared next to the old man as if he had walked through air itself.
The atmosphere seemed to bend around him, the air quivering with energy, his presence perfectly aligned with the Sovereign's own power.
"The legendary White Ash Sovereign," Riley's voice broke the silence, reverent and awed.
"A cultivator of unsurpassed skill, who has roamed the Golden Willow Continent for more than 100,000 years. He's the one you were speaking of earlier. The true cornerstone of the Light Clan in this Azure Cloud City. An ancestor of yours who could easily rival entire sects single-handedly. And as expected… he is a force of nature, a man whose presence alone commands respect."
Riley reached out and lightly tapped the old man's shoulder.
In that instant, she realized something even more astonishing.
The volcano itself had become suspended in a timeless void.
Not a single ember floated; the molten lava beneath them froze mid-churn; the heat, the smoke, the faint rumble of the earth—everything had come to a complete halt. Time itself had paused.
Valentina's pulse quickened as she took in the scene.
Even the wind, which might have carried the faint scent of sulfur and ash, was frozen mid-motion.
The realization hit her—Dorian had somehow stopped time itself!
The Sovereign's eyes remained closed, his body perfectly still, yet the energy emanating from him pressed against her consciousness like a tidal wave.
She could feel the weight of centuries, of battles fought, of wisdom accumulated, and of a power that could shape continents.
In this frozen realm, time did not merely bend—it bowed to no one but the mysterious Dorian Axe.
Valentina knew almost nothing about him beyond his name, but now she understood one undeniable truth: this man was far more powerful than even the Light Clan's legendary ancestor.
"Who are you really, Dorian Axe?" Valentina asked, her voice trembling slightly, though she tried to hide it behind a veneer of authority.
Deep down, she was fully convinced of defeat.
Even her ancestor, the legendary White Ash Sovereign—an existence that had spanned over a hundred millennia—was frozen in time, suspended above the molten heart of the volcano.
Her mind raced, considering every possibility, every hidden skill she could call upon—but nothing seemed enough.
A sense of inevitability pressed down on her, heavy and inescapable.
She could feel her pulse quicken, yet her body remained calm, as though her very training had prepared her to confront the impossible with composure.
Dorian, meanwhile, remained completely at ease. He smiled—a slow, confident curve of his lips that spoke of secrets far beyond her comprehension. "Hmm… that's a good question," he said, his voice low, smooth, and tinged with amusement.
"Why don't we go back and have some tea? That way, I can properly introduce myself."
There was no malice in his tone, no rush to exploit the situation.
Yet the power behind his words pressed on her consciousness like a weight she could neither resist nor fully understand.
It was not just strength or cultivation—there was an aura, a certainty, a command over the world itself that made even the frozen White Ash Sovereign feel like a mere observer.
Valentina's lips parted, ready to respond, but no words came.
All she could do was nod slightly, her mind a whirlwind of awe, fear, and curiosity.
Dorian approached her slowly, each step deliberate, and in an instant, the two of them vanished from the secret realm together.
The sensation of leaving that frozen place behind felt almost like stepping out of a dream, yet the weight of what she had just witnessed pressed heavily on her mind.
In the blink of an eye, they arrived back in Valentina's throne room.
The familiar surroundings offered little comfort. She sensed him immediately—so close that she could catch the faint, masculine scent of him lingering in the air.
It was unsettling, a scent that stirred memories she had hoped never to recall. At least not today.
Her pulse quickened slightly, and for a moment, she felt an unfamiliar mixture of unease and anticipation.
"I trust you know what to do, Valentina," Dorian said, his voice low, calm, and commanding.
Every word seemed to carry a weight of authority that made it impossible to ignore.
She swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, and could only manage a soft, almost breathless, "Yes."
Summoning her composure, she called for her servants.
Within moments, a private feast was arranged in the throne room.
The table was laden with delicacies, tea brewed to perfection, and the soft flicker of candlelight reflected off the polished surfaces, casting a warm glow over the room.
Despite the outward elegance, a charged tension hung in the air, invisible yet palpable, as if the very room recognized the storm that accompanied Dorian's presence.
They began to sip their tea, engaging in polite small talk, the conversation flowing lightly yet deliberately measured.
Every glance, every movement, carried a subtle undercurrent, a silent contest of power and restraint.
Valentina found herself hyper-aware of him, the way he leaned slightly, the tilt of his head, the effortless way he seemed to command the space around him.
Just as the atmosphere began to settle into this delicate rhythm, the throne room doors opened, revealing two more stunningly beautiful women.