Silence gripped the Azure Heaven Sect long after the blood-red sphere had dispersed. The moon hung high above the shattered roofs, casting pale light over a land that had just survived an inferno of steel and blood. Aelric descended from the air like a drifting shadow, his expressionless face unreadable, untouched by the massacre around him.
But before this moment—before he and the sect leader made their way to White Dragon Hall—there had been another scene entirely.
⸻
Earlier – Inside Azure Heaven Sect
"Elders!" Sect Leader Jian Wuhen's voice shook the courtyard like the ringing of iron. Blood still stained his sleeves, and his eyes were fierce with controlled fury. Around him, disciples and elders stood amidst corpses—assassins and Azure Heaven disciples alike—breathing heavily, adrenaline still surging through their veins.
"Gather all disciples above second-rate level immediately," Jian Wuhen ordered. "Form three pursuit squads and kill every assassin who escaped our ground. Do not leave a single threat alive."
"Yes, Sect Leader!"
Three elders cupped their fists and rushed out, shouting orders as disciples quickly assembled behind them, forming hunting units. The atmosphere was tense, raw, and gritty—everyone still carried the tremble of battle in their legs, the metallic scent of blood clogging their throats.
Aelric stood slightly behind the sect leader, the moonlight painting faint silver highlights across his hair. Though his clothes were stained with blood, his posture was straight and composed—utterly unaffected by the carnage around him.
"Also—tighten the sect's security," Aelric said calmly. "No disciple is to leave the premises. Not even a scrap of information must escape before we return."
Jian Wuhen nodded seriously; he understood the implications.
If even a rumor reached Flowing Cloud Sect, everything they planned next would crumble.
"Liang Shen!" the sect leader shouted.
His right-hand man immediately appeared beside him, still carrying the exhaustion of his recent battle.
"No one leaves the sect," Jian Wuhen said. "Double the defensive arrays. Send patrols across every corner of the grounds. No gaps. No blind spots."
Liang Shen cupped his fists deeply. "It will be done, my lord."
The disciples nearby stiffened, determination surging through their tired bodies. Many had lost friends only moments ago. Their faces showed a mixture of grief and burning hatred.
This was not just an order—this was a vow for revenge.
Aelric watched them quietly, eyes steady and neither sympathetic nor dismissive. Human emotions were predictable. They had lost control of the strings that tied their hearts—fear, anger, grief, yearning for justice—all pulling at them violently.
⸻
As they walked through the night-lit streets, Jian Wuhen struggled to calm the roaring storm in his heart. His shoulders still trembled faintly with anger and helplessness.
Aelric suddenly spoke, his voice flat and cold.
"I will do the talking."
Jian Wuhen blinked, startled out of his own thoughts. "Why?"
"You're not in a stable state of mind," Aelric replied. "And this meeting requires precision, not emotion."
The sect leader opened his mouth to defend himself but quietly closed it again. He knew Aelric was right. Rage clouded his judgment. If he negotiated like this, he would only lead the sect to disaster.
"…Very well," Jian Wuhen exhaled. "I'll follow your lead."
Aelric nodded once, and they continued walking.
⸻
Present – At Branch Manager Bai's Residence
The residence of White Dragon Hall's branch manager was neither overly luxurious nor humble. It was elegant—clean white stone pathways, lanterns emitting soft, golden light, and a quiet garden of moonlit lilies swaying gently beside the walkway. Servants bowed and guided them through polished halls lined with neatly arranged scrolls and artifacts.
Finally, they arrived at an open circular pavilion with a roof, surrounded by a ring of clear water that reflected the moon like a sheet of crystal. The air was cool, serene, almost deceptively peaceful.
At the center sat an elderly woman—Branch Manager Bai.
Her hair was tied neatly behind her head, and her wrinkled face carried the sharpness of someone who had weathered storms far worse than tonight. She was no martial artist, no cultivator—but her gaze held an authority born from experience, not power.
Aelric immediately noticed it.
She looked at them like a woman who had seen countless deals, betrayals, and negotiations. The sort of woman who rarely made mistakes.
Sect Leader Jian Wuhen bowed deeply. Aelric simply nodded with polite restraint.
"What brings Azure Heaven Sect to my residence at such an hour?" the old woman asked, voice calm yet edged with curiosity.
Aelric answered before Jian Wuhen could even inhale.
"You already know the reason."
Her sharp gaze slid toward him. For a moment, silence stretched like a taut thread. Their eyes locked—calm meeting sharp, experience measuring danger.
It was as if they spoke through their eyes.
After long seconds, the old woman broke the silence.
"If you're here to negotiate about the attack on your sect," she said, her tone shifting into cold dismissal, "then you may leave. I have no intention of cooperating with a party that is already losing."
The mocking layer beneath her words made Jian Wuhen tremble with fury. His fist clenched so hard that veins popped along his skin. He was about to speak—
—but Aelric's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"We are not the losing party," he said with a faint, indifferent smile. "But if Branch Manager Bai refuses to even hear our offer… then White Dragon Hall will certainly be the one that loses."
Jian Wuhen froze mid-breath.
The old woman's eyes narrowed.
Aelric knew about two things:
Someone higher in White Dragon Hall was involved in the Flowing Cloud Sect's schemes.
And more importantly—
That person would not hesitate to switch sides for enough profit.
White Dragon Hall cared only for gains.
"You dare claim White Dragon Hall will be the losing side?" she asked, her voice now sharp enough to cut porcelain. "Can you bear the weight of those words, young man?"
The air shifted.
Shadows moved.
Five men emerged silently from the corners of the pavilion. Their steps were controlled, lethal—even without Aelric looking at them, he already sensed their presence the moment he entered. These were the personal guards assigned to Branch Manager Bai by her Lord—the Third Miss of White Dragon Hall, Bai Lianxue.
Four of the guards were peak First-Rate martial artists.
One stood at the entry stage of Peak Realm.
Jian Wuhen's heart dropped.
He couldn't sense them even moments earlier.
Such strength… and such stealth…
If they chose to attack—
Cold sweat rolled down his back, but he did not step away. He moved subtly in front of Aelric, instinctively protecting the man who had saved his son.
The tension thickened.
Lantern flames quivered.
The guards stepped closer—one hand on their blades, another ready to attack.
Branch Manager Bai spoke again.
"Well then? Can you take responsibility—"
Aelric placed a single hand on the table.
And stood up slowly.
"Indeed," he said quietly.
"I can."
The world… stopped.
A pressure heavier than mountains and deeper than oceans exploded from Aelric's body.
It descended upon the guards like the wrath of an unseen deity.
<
It was not a technique, nor a martial art, but an innate dominance carved into Aelric's very existence — the remnant of a being who once stood at the apex of countless planes. By circulating a fraction of his essence through this authority, he could impose a formless, absolute pressure upon all beings within its grasp. It was not mere spiritual suppression; it was a primordial command that forced the target's body and soul to acknowledge him as the supreme entity. At his peak, Aelric could effortlessly reduce living beings to nothing more than a smear of flesh and fragmented consciousness beneath this authority. What he used now was only a fragment — a shadow of a shadow — yet even this diluted echo was enough to force seasoned fighters to their knees, unable to breathe without his permission.
The ground trembled faintly.
Air twisted.
The lantern flames sputtered violently.
The nearest guard collapsed instantly—knees slamming against stone—as saliva dripped uncontrollably from his mouth. His eyes bulged, veins bursting red along his neck.
The others followed a second later, their bodies bowing against their will, foreheads nearly touching the floor as if worshipping a god.
They couldn't even lift their fingers.
To them, the weight crushing their bodies was like a mountain range placed on their backs.
Even Jian Wuhen and Branch Manager Bai felt the pressure—though Aelric had adjusted it. Their knees trembled. Their breath caught in their throats. Sweat poured down their temples.
The old woman felt something else too:
Permission.
It felt as though the right to breathe… depended on Aelric's will.
Her fingers shook uncontrollably.
This wasn't power.
This wasn't talent.
This was a monster wearing human skin.
After several unbearable seconds—
Aelric withdrew the pressure.
Air rushed back into everyone's lungs.
The guards collapsed, coughing violently, gasping like drowning men pulled from the depths.
Jian Wuhen panted, sweat matting his hair.
Branch Manager Bai looked at Aelric as if seeing him for the first time.
And Aelric, expressionless as always, simply sat down again.
"Now," he said coldly.
"Shall we talk business?"
He wasn't showing off.
He wasn't threatening them unnecessarily.
He simply established one truth:
As long as he stood beside Azure Heaven Sect, they were not the losing side.
Branch Manager Bai understood instantly.
She had met countless powerful figures.
But none had made her body instinctively tremble like this man.
Flowing Cloud Sect could not win.
Not against this.
If she continued to support them…
White Dragon Hall would lose everything invested in this scheme.
She steadied her breath, straightened her back, and wiped the sweat from her brow.
Then, with a voice much calmer—and more respectful—she said:
"Very well.
Let us discuss… what both sides can offer each other."
Aelric allowed a faint smile to appear on his lips.
"Good," he said softly.
"Now we can begin."