Far above the chaos of the jungle valley, the Poison Lotus Palace remained untouched, serene in its towering elegance. Ashwin sat cross-legged in the highest meditation chamber gifted to him by King Kenroe, the patterned stone tiles beneath him were made from purple jasper stone. Marla hovered beside him cross-legged, refining and condensing the threads of her newly co-cultivated vestigium qi. With her new cultivation level she would finally be able to bond with the zombie dragon crystal core, she had asked Ashriel for so long ago.
The sunlight streamed in through the lacquered windows painting him in stripes of gold and green, yet Ashwin's focus was elsewhere—on the golden thread that tethered him to Ashriel.
Aswin inhaled deeply, letting the pulse of his twin's life energy resonate alongside his own. Every weapon Ashriel had, every relic he had forged or claimed, Ashwin could simultaneously use—but always with one immutable truth: these treasures were singular. A weapon drawn by one diminished its charge for the other. Every relic used, every item cast, shared between them in invisible, inescapable entanglement.
Ashwin opened his eyes, letting the Eye of Heaven ignite within his vision. Through it, the world became both crystal and map, data and essence. Threads of spirit energy wove themselves across continents, oceans, and hidden lands. The Inheritance's library had always hinted at the location of the Forgotten Continent, but now the Eye allowed him to search for it.
A faint smile curved his lips. Even with Ashriel aboard emperor Ichikawa's fiery chariot 5,000 miles away, Ashwin could act independently, scout, and prepare. He extended a golden strand of intent, letting the Eye of Heaven unfurl over the map.
The Forgotten Continent appeared like a jewel in the endless ocean—a land of jagged mountains, sunken forests, and rivers curling like molten glass through emerald plains. Spirit-energy veins shimmered faintly across the surface, weak yet persistent, relics of ancient civilizations that had survived beyond memory.
And there, in the western desert reaches of the forgotten continent, a qi signature caught his attention: remnants of the Heavenly Demonic Wind Clan. Lord Imperion and his surviving forces. Their cultivation had been gutted by Felicity's Black Flag Blood Frost, and the scars were still raw, lingering like frost in winter sunlight.
Ashwin observed their strongholds from above: Their glorious pavilions, their fully outfitted training grounds, their great walls flickering with defensive arrays. Their populace and cities, and residents. He sensed the faint ember of imperious will still burning in Lord Imperion's aura, a stubborn defiance against calamity. The man had endured beyond expectation, but barely.
The courtyard of the Demonic Wind Palace was pure grandeur. Marble tiles inlaid with jade, gold, ivory and spirit ruby, walked on beneath their boots, fountains ran with sweetened water, that could heal injuries. Banners waved proudly in the air, their silver thread shimmering in the high noon day. Lord Imperion stood at the center, the air around him trembling faintly with residual violet fire from the Blood Frost burn.
Frey Jita hovered nearby, her silver-phageal wings flickering rapidly as she adjusted her revealing battle armor. "My lord," she murmured, her voice tight, "we have survived—but our forces are fractured. Our cultivation… still burns weak."
Imperion's eyes, sharp as jagged obsidian, swept across the courtyard. He could see his surviving troops, kneeling, limping, still clutching their bruised dantians and scorched flesh. Pride and fury warred within him, each pulse of violet fire in his veins a reminder of the loss—and yet, a promise of vengeance.
Then, abruptly, he froze.
A chill ran down his spine as his gaze flicked upward. The sunlit sky above the palace was gone. Replaced. Dominating every horizon, stretching from zenith to edges of vision, was a golden, radiant eye—Egyptian in stylization, ancient and impossibly vast. The iris was molten gold, the pupil a slit of radiant void, and around it, golden rays stretched outward like the wings of a celestial falcon. Every feathered line, every contour of that divine eye shimmered with awareness, as though the sky itself had become a living, conscious instrument.
Imperion staggered back a pace, his chest tightening. The violet flames along his arms leapt in agitation, reacting to the unnatural presence above.
"What…what is it!?" His voice cracked, sharp with panic. "Some…someone is watching us!"
Frey Jita's wings fluttered nervously, her usually serene expression contorted in alarm as she too looked up and beheld the eye of heaven. "My lord… it's…its not natural. This—this is beyond any cultivation; beyond any array we have ever encountered!"
Imperion's hands clenched, veins of violet fire coiling up his forearms like serpents. "Array Masters!" he bellowed, voice shaking with authority and fear. "Identify! Explain! What is this!"
From the shadows of the courtyard, trembling figures in ceremonial armor and flowing robes shuffled forward—Array Masters, veteran cultivators of the Demonic Wind Clan's highest order. Their eyes darted upward, mouths opening and closing, but no words came immediately.
One finally stepped forward, voice strained. "My lord… it… it is an Eye of Heaven. Not just any—it is observing us… directly. Every movement, every breath, every pulse of our qi…"
Imperion's jaw tightened, the violet fire around him flaring violently as his pride warred with his instinctive terror. "Do you realize what this means?!" He pointed at the enormous, glowing eye. "Every secret…every weakness…exposed! Every formation we have, every plan…seen!"
Frey Jita's silver light flickered brighter as she stepped to his side. "Imperion… we need to respond…now. Defensive arrays, shielding…everything! If it wishes to probe us, we must force it back!"
Imperion's violet flames surged to a blinding intensity, washing over the courtyard in a violent wind. His aura roared as he drew upon what remained of his power. "Then we fight the unseen!" he roared. "Array Masters, lock it out! Show this Eye that the Demonic Wind Clan does not kneel!"
Yet even as the orders fell, the golden Eye pulsed, unblinking, observing, patient, knowing. It filled the sky—and Lord Imperion knew, deep in his gut, that this was no ordinary threat. This was something that transcended mortal comprehension, something tied to the very fate of the world—and perhaps, to the mysterious twin who now wielded the Eye.
A bead of sweat traced down Imperion's temple, and even Frey Jita felt the weight pressing on her soul. "My lord," she whispered, voice tight, "who…who has the power to watch like this?"
Imperion's hands trembled slightly on the hilts of his swords, and he looked around at his fractured forces. "I do not know," he admitted, voice low but fierce, "but whoever it is…they will regret it."
And above them, the Eye of Heaven continued to burn, unyielding, omniscient, and alive.
Back at the Poison Lotus Palace, Ashwin sat cross-legged in the Moon Pavilion, his mind plunging into the deepest layers of meditation. His ocean of mental energy pulsed as he focused on a single goal: projecting force across the world through the Eye of Heaven. He considered all of his martial techniques, but then a new another idea hit him.
"Glacial Soul Eye…" he whispered, his voice a quiet echo in the silent chamber.
Immediately, the Eye above the palace roof shimmered, its golden iris contracting slightly as it began to resonate with the deep, cold essence of his Glacial Soul Qi. The golden glow dimmed, replaced by a frost-tipped azure shimmer, which streaked across the Eye's surface like rivulets of ice along golden stone. A chill swept through the pavilion, the air around Ashwin crystallizing faintly with suspended motes of frost.
He sent his intent outward, threading it through the Eye, and the vast eye of heaven began to glow with a bright azure light that pierced the atmosphere, spreading over mountains, rivers, and the far-reaching plains where the Demonic Wind Clan's palace lay.
Below, Lord Imperion and Freyjita were still reacting to the Eye's overwhelming presence, but now something new began to stir—a chill, unnatural and impossible in the heat of the late morning sun. Imperion's violet flames wavered, faltering as a creeping frost began to curl across the courtyard.
Then, without warning, the Eye of Heaven discharged.
A massive column of glacial soul Qi erupted from the sky, cascading down like a waterfall of azure light and spiritual frost. The air screamed as temperatures plummeted instantly, vapor freezing midair into jagged crystals. The column struck the palace grounds with the force of a meteor impact, yet moved like liquid ice, seeking the bodies and minds of its targets.
Imperion's roar cracked the air, but even his immense King-level will faltered under the assault. His body stiffened, the violet fire in his veins sputtering as the glacial Qi seeped into his spiritual core. His limbs froze mid-motion, sinews tightening unnaturally as if the frost was reaching directly into his marrow.
Freyjita's wings, silver and radiant, flapped desperately to counter the column, but the Glacial Soul Qi wrapped around her aura like chains of sapphire ice. Even her mind felt the slow creep of the attack—thoughts lagged, reflexes dulled, perception slowed as the column's secondary effect sank into her consciousness.
Every heartbeat, every breath, every motor function—the column sought them all. Minds stuttered under the influence of the Glacial Soul Qi, decisions lagging behind reflexes, muscles responding late to the command of spirit and intent alike.
Imperion's eyes, violet and blazing, widened. "This…this is impossible!" he bellowed, claws scraping the frozen marble tiles. "Array Masters! Shield our minds! Protect your cores!"
The Array Masters scrambled, hastily assembling defensive arrays and ritual circles, but the blue column was no ordinary attack. The Glacial Soul Eye's secondary ability—mental deceleration—slowed their reactions, rendering even their advanced techniques sluggish and ineffective.
Ashwin's focus never wavered. Every tendril of his King-level Intent threaded through the Eye, guiding the column, adjusting its flow, increasing its reach. The azure column wrapped around the palace towers, freezing ornamental waterspouts mid-splash, coating banners in frost, and crystallizing air itself into jagged, humming shards.
From his vantage, Ashwin could feel their panic ripple through the connection. Every staggered step, every frozen breath, every slow blink—he could see, analyze, and exploit it.
And above all, the Eye of Heaven pulsed with satisfaction, as if acknowledging the precision and elegance of his strike. The golden eye, now tinged with frost, seemed alive with intent, a silent observer and a relentless executioner.
Ashwin's lips curved slightly. "Winter has come early for Lord Imperion and his forces."
Below, the Demonic Wind palace courtyard was locked in a deadly tableau: violet fire against Glacial soul qi, movement against stasis, pride against inevitability. And in the sky, the eye of heaven slowly faded away.