Ashira despised every moment spent among these Fire cultivators. The combined presence of herself and her four Nascent Soul companions mitigated the oppressive aura staining the world around them, but she still felt like a drop of water among a sea of flame.

Seahold, the capital of Leviathan’s empire, was rumored to have also benefited greatly from the presence of a Titan Vessel. Those same rumors also tended to purport dark truths, such as how those with Leviathan’s favor were forced to sacrifice as much as they gained. The Wandering Phoenix Tribe, on the other hand, appeared suspiciously radiant. The music was loud and lovely, and even the lowest among their people seemed at ease.

Ashira’s Prismatic Eyes saw through the deception. These people had bound their fates to the Phoenix--had intertwined themselves with a Destiny that would soon become wholly subservient to Leviathan’s whims. Their sacrifice had, in the short term, brought them power. The Phoenix herself blazed like the sun, and her drunken giant of an uncle and sullen-looking older brother radiated their own sense of danger. Yet in the end, these bright flames would burn out early.

None of the members of the main family made her feel uneasy. Not even the Phoenix. She was a known variable they had accounted for. The house guard in the strange metal mask at the back of their group, however, was not. Her Eyes could not pierce through to his spirit. An enchantment from the relic on his face? She hadn’t seen that particular metal before, with its strange blend of Dark and Metal spirituality. There were only a few people who she couldn’t properly analyze, including Leviathan and Phoenix. For it to suppress her vision, it must have been an incredibly potent artifact.

Still, despite Ashira's misgivings, the meeting was progressing as planned. Their true intentions had gone unnoticed so far. As much potential as the Phoenix had, she was still a young woman in an ancient world. Leviathan had gone through great lengths to discover possible threats against himself, and then twist them for his own means. A sole, naive cultivator could fall into all manner of traps.

Then, the blinding light swept through the world, erasing all magical workings for an instant. Her mind worked frantically to decipher the meaning of the flash, but its conceptual truths were beyond her grasp. Careful analysis would be required in the future. For now, she had to deal with the source of that strange brilliance.

The former Matriarch of the Wandering Phoenix Tribe stepped out of nothingness some ten feet in front of Ashira. Lady Orelle appeared surprisingly ascetic and plain--a woman in her twilight years, with long white hair bound into a single braid. A simple golden ring on her left hand was the only jewelry she possessed. In her simple orange robes, she looked like she could be a mundane servant.

No one present was foolish enough to make that mistake, however. Everyone recognized the former Matriarch. All but Elys and Ashira’s party knelt in supplication. Strangely, the house guard in the metal mask hesitated for a moment before joining the others. A foreigner?

Most of the nearby sounds had lapsed into silence, though faint music continued to pound away in the distance. It was as if the world was holding its breath in anticipation of their meeting.

“Greetings,” she called out to Lady Orelle. “It is an honor to have you join us today. I thought you were in the midst of a breakthrough? Congratulations on your early ascension.”

Lady Orelle smiled with slightly uneven teeth. The woman’s appearance somewhat surprised Ashira. Such a high-level cultivator had to make a deliberate effort to seem so ordinary. A message that she had abandoned her pride, her earthly hubris? A boast? Perhaps I am reading too much into it.

“It’s true,” said Orelle. “I had to force myself out of meditation early to come speak with you.”

“Mother--” said the Phoenix.

Orelle shook her head, cutting her daughter off with the casual gesture. “I see through your deception, Ashira. Not only have you gathered the forces of the Sect of Sacred Tears. You’ve brought Runewardens, mercenaries, a monster horde, all waiting for your word. I must admit, it requires exceptional measures to surround my people without anyone else realizing it. Not even Elys noticed.”

Ashira frowned. Her heart fluttered in her chest, but she kept up a brave face. If she was to be sacrificed for Leviathan’s cause, then she would consider it a great honor. The Wandering Phoenix Tribe had avoided subjugation for some time due to their special circumstances. Her dying here would pave the path for the empire bringing its full forces to bear.

“I suppose you’re thinking something like, ‘I’ll end up being a noble martyr. They’ll make statues of me back home.’ Is that correct?”

Ashira glanced at the others who had accompanied her--all elders of the Sect of Sacred Tears who had come here as a show of force. None of them had truly believed the rumors about the Wandering Phoenix’s prosperity. She knew not all of them wanted to be martyrs.

Willem, with his shaved head and absurd mustache, couldn’t keep quiet. “We brought those forces to ensure our safety. As we said, we are hunting the drows and want some help, but we know there’s a chance you would attack us. You’re not planning on doing that, are you?”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Ashira closed her eyes and retreated into her mind for a moment. That damned fool. If he wanted to survive, then they needed to stick to the plan. They had originally intended to lure the Phoenix away and capture her. The same measures should, in theory, work for Lady Orelle, though the particular wards were not properly calibrated to her spirit. That would still leave the Phoenix to deal with, but they had prepared additional countermeasures in case their primary method failed. Nothing had been left up to chance.

“Fine, then,” said Orelle, tilting her chin arrogantly. “I’ll help you on this hunt. Leave everyone else alone. I alone should prove sufficient to find these intruders.”

Ashira resisted the urge to look at the other elders. She couldn’t appear weak and uncertain. After composing herself with a deep breath, she said, “Let us depart quickly, then.”

Lady Orelle nodded and walked toward their group. Some of them flinched, as if scared they would be burned in her presence, but nothing of the sort happened. Ashira frowned, slightly surprised, and flooded Reflection qi into her Prismatic Eyes.

The world around her fractured apart, dissected into its constituent parts. Her mind strained under the enormous pressure of analyzing her surroundings, especially with vast amounts of divine Phoenix qi. Yet, all of it was curiously muted. All of it looked as it should, but it lacked the appropriate…solidity. Only Ashira and her companions displayed their full levels of spirituality.

“Ah,” said Orelle. “You’re beginning to see through it, then, aren’t you? This is far too early. What a shame.”

Willem spit. “Through what?”

Some of the other elders began to shout. Ashira held out a hand to silence them, then looked around some more. Why was the world so dull and vague? A wide-scale spiritual dampening effect? In that case, the army they had brought along with them should be able to wipe out the Wandering Phoenix Tribe through sheer numbers alone. The monsters they had brought wouldn’t be hampered by such restrictions. That couldn’t be the cause, then.

“I’m glad I got to see it happen,” said Orelle. Hands on her hips, she turned to glance at her daughter and then, strangely, to the house guard in the metal mask. “My son, Cyril, came back, just like I knew he would. He bonded with Behemoth, you know. How many parents can say they birthed two Titan Vessels? I’m so proud. And it hurts, knowing what he must have gone through to get here.”

Her revelation about Behemoth made Ashira and the elders freeze for a moment. Then, spiritual techniques rained down upon the guard in the strange mask--the supposed Vessel of Behemoth. Icicles pierced through his body in sprays of blood; the air around him froze; mystical seals and barriers sprang to life around him. Within seconds, the guard was reduced to frozen gore.

No one reacted. The rest of the world, beyond Orelle and Ashira’s party, had gone completely still and silent. Once lively people now resembled statues, petrified in the moment. As if they had all been captured within a still painting.

Ashira closed her eyes. “How is this possible?”

“I’m quite resentful about this,” said Orelle. “You’ve interrupted an important part of my breakthrough, though perhaps this is a blessing. Do you have any idea how much of an investment it takes to create an Inner World? The process does require some fuel. You five don’t mind providing that for me, do you?”

One of the other male elders began to shout. “You dare--”

Lady Orelle snapped her fingers and immolated him in a pillar of white flame. His outrage turned into screams. A flurry of techniques, both physical and abstract, interposed themselves between Orelle and the elder. Their combined efforts managed to suppress the flame pillar, and Ashira pulled the elder behind her. She fought down her disgust as part of the man’s melted forearm sloughed away, adhering to her hand.

“As I was saying,” said Orelle, “I’m quite resentful. Bringing you here into Mirage has formed some cracks in my foundation. You’ve prolonged the amount of time it’s going to take me before I can truly unite with my family. I had hoped you would at least have fallen for it a while longer, but you truly are discerning, Lady Ashira. If fate was slightly different, perhaps you would have been born as one of my daughters. Imagine that.”

Ashira barely managed to keep the snarl off her face. She forced her Prismatic Eyes open, ignoring the damage to her mind as she abused the fragile technique. Now that she was looking for it, she could see the truth. The world around her was incomplete, and Orelle had relied on manipulating Light qi to fill in the gaps. Her control had been so perfect that Ashira hadn't even realized she was staring at an illusion from the beginning.

“So you forced us into your Inner World, is that it?" said Ashira. "Was that what the flash of light was? Bringing us into this echo of reality.”

The entire conversation, they had been trapped within this place--Mirage. Lady Orelle was a well-known practitioner of the Dominion of the Sun. That made her as much a practitioner of Light as it did of Fire. Ashira had thought that her own personal Dominions would have made her immune to illusions, but they had proven to be an exploitable weakness in the end. The Prismatic Eyes relied on Reflection qi, and so had been deceived when a false reality had been reflected onto them. It required exceptional control to convince five Nascent Soul cultivators into believing that they were still within the real world.

Lady Orelle smiled. “My true body hasn’t even left secluded meditation. As you can see, Mirage is a near-perfect replica of our territory. This way, my tribe will always have a home to return to, even if our lands are destroyed. I was hoping that you would reveal your entire plan to me, so I would be able to relay it to my family. You discovered the truth too soon. Perhaps I underestimated you, daughter.”

Ashira scowled. “Clever, but arrogant. You brought five enemies into your very soul and think we won’t make you pay?”

“I'm no pauper,” said Orelle. “What I said about my son and Behemoth is true, by the way. Do you understand what this means? The army you’ve arrayed against them is going to fail. There is absolutely no chance you emerge victorious, in the end.”

“Even if what you said is true,” said Ashira, “Behemoth’s Vessel has done nothing of significance. He can’t be very powerful. Not enough to make a difference.”

Orelle shrugged. “Perhaps. I’m confident in the children I helped raise. Come, then; let us worry about our own fates.”