While Feng Zhiming was engaged in his meeting, deep within one of the three major clans that governed the light side of the Ethereia Continent, something far more sinister was brewing.
The Patriarch of the Hua clan sat in his chamber, deep in meditation. His long gray hair, a testament to his years of cultivation, cascaded to the ground. His sharp eyes, usually steady and unwavering, now flickered with an unease that was unfamiliar to him.
His eyes snapped open as he sensed a presence encroaching upon his sanctum, filling him with a palpable dread. This was no ordinary intruder; the very air around him felt suffocating, pressing down with a weight that even his vast cultivation struggled to withstand. The Patriarch had long achieved the Actualized stage of the Heavenly Eye realm, a level of power that made him one of the most formidable beings on the continent, yet this presence threatened to crush him with its mere existence.
"Which senior dares to intrude upon the land of the Hua clan?" his voice was steady, but the undercurrent of tension was unmistakable. "Let me remind you that we are directly subordinated to the Sect of the Sacred Sage. Do not make hasty decisions."
From the shadows, a figure emerged, one too luminous to be fully comprehended by mortal eyes. Kura, a being of such immense power that even the light around her seemed to bend to her will, had purposefully restrained her aura, allowing her form to be seen. Yet this being was different, its presence was overwhelming. A Dao Lord in its natural state could not be gazed upon directly, its brilliance too intense for lesser beings.
The Patriarch lowered his gaze, a gesture of respect and self-preservation. "The Hua clan, hmm?" its voice was soft, almost curious, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. "No Dao Lord resides here?"
Patriarch Hua's fists clenched at the provocation, his knuckles turning white. "I am not obligated to answer that question," he responded, his voice measured but filled with a quiet defiance.
The figure stepped closer, its movements graceful and deliberate. "You have the makings of a Dao Lord, leader of the Hua clan," she observed, its words carrying a weight that made the Patriarch's heart pound in his chest. The implication was clear, it saw potential in him, potential that could be cultivated or crushed, depending on its whims.
Patriarch Hua's initial confusion deepened. He had assumed the mysterious figure had come with hostile intentions, yet the conversation had taken an unexpected turn that left him unsettled.
“For what reason has this senior come to our clan?” he asked cautiously, his mind racing to understand the true purpose behind this visit.
The figure chuckled softly, the sound almost mocking. “Fear not, I come bearing good news.”
Without waiting for an invitation, the figure seated itself before Patriarch Hua, exuding an air of casual authority. “You claim to be subordinated to the Sect of the Sacred Sage,” the figure began, its voice laced with a knowing tone, “but the truth is far more insidious, you are suppressed by them.”
Patriarch Hua inhaled sharply, the gravity of the statement hitting him like a blow. This was not a simple matter.
“I have watched as the three sects hoard resources,” the figure continued, its gaze piercing. “They do everything in their power to prevent your clan, or any other from producing a Dao Lord. They steal away your most talented members, enrolling them in their sects to strip you of your future. You, Patriarch Hua, are nothing more than livestock, kept in place to govern these mortals at their behest.”
The truth of those words stung, and Patriarch Hua found himself unable to contradict them. It was as the figure had said his clan had been systematically stifled, their potential choked by the iron grip of the sects.
The figure leaned closer, its presence overwhelming yet strangely inviting. “I can offer you what you desire most,” it whispered, its voice dripping with temptation. “I can make you a Dao Lord. I can lead your clan to victory, to freedom. Together, we can abolish the Sects, overthrow the Maiden, and reign over this continent as its true overlords.”
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Patriarch Hua’s heart pounded in his chest. The proposition was as intoxicating as it was dangerous. To rise above the sects, to claim the power that had always been just out of reach, it was a dream long buried under the weight of duty and tradition. Yet here it was, offered to him on a silver platter by this enigmatic figure.
But at what cost?
This temptation was potent enough to sway even the most steadfast followers of the sect, a lure that could turn loyalty into ambition.
"Forgive me for asking," Patriarch Hua began cautiously, "but do you have the qualifications to speak on such a matter? You are a Dao Lord, incredibly powerful. But those sects you speak of have at least three Dao Lords each."
The figure merely smiled, a subtle curve of the lips that hinted at hidden depths. With a slight movement of its hand, a round pill fell to the ground.
Patriarch Hua's eyes widened in recognition. Without hesitation, he reached for the pill, his hand moving with the urgency of someone grasping at a lifeline. He feared the pill might lose its efficacy if left unattended. As he held it, he quickly scanned its properties, his breath catching in his throat.
It was unmistakably a pill of the sixth order. Its surface was marked with veins, pulsating like a living heart, and its vitality was so potent that it seeped into him just by holding it.
"This is... impossible," he murmured, his voice betraying the shock that he could not hide. The sight before him was nothing short of miraculous.
Pills of such magnitude were not only rare; they were nearly extinct on the Ethereia Continent. The Maiden and her followers had seen to that, systematically eradicating any and all pill refineries. The suppression was deliberate, a means to prevent the rise of too many Dao Lords. The people of Ethereia were left to cultivate with raw ingredients alone, their potential stifled by the absence of such powerful alchemical creations.
The figure’s voice broke through Patriarch Hua’s astonishment, its tone as elusive as mist. "There is a secret within your clan, one even you are unaware of. Hidden away in your tomb is an ancestor, an old guardian who has survived beyond his time. I can feel his life force slipping away, rapidly nearing death."
The Patriarch’s heart skipped a beat. An ancestor, hidden from him, on the brink of death? The implications were staggering, not just for his clan but for the power dynamics of the entire continent.
"I can save him," the figure continued, its words wrapping around Patriarch Hua like a silken net, offering salvation wrapped in layers of mystery and power. The choice was now before him, to seize this chance and ascend to heights long denied, or to cling to the fragile status quo, watching his clan’s potential wither away.
Patriarch Hua’s shock only deepened as the conversation unfolded, the revelations coming one after another, each more astounding than the last.
“Ancestor? Dao Lord?” he mumbled, struggling to grasp the magnitude of what was being revealed.
The figure continued, its tone almost casual, as though discussing a matter of little consequence. “It seems your ancestor feigned his death to break through to the Dao Lord realm, hiding himself from your so-called masters. Since the Dao Lords of the sects are bound to their domains, they have been unable to detect your clan’s hidden cards.”
A spark of ambition ignited within Patriarch Hua’s chest. How long had they been subservient to the sects, forced to bow and scrape before them like slaves? If this figure could truly deliver the freedom and power he promised, then perhaps the risk was worth it.
“I plan to recruit others as well,” the figure continued, laying out his strategy with calculated precision.
Patriarch Hua finally looked up at the woman before him, taking in her appearance with newfound clarity. The figure had long, fiery red hair, matching red eyebrows, and pupils that glowed with the same intense hue. her features were sharp, as if carved from jade, exuding an aura of perfection and authority. This was the radiance of a true Dao Lord.
“How should I address this esteemed senior?” Patriarch Hua asked, his voice now filled with deference. He was no longer in doubt; he was completely convinced.
“Dao Lord Fury,” the woman replied, her tone commanding and absolute. “Now, will you not swear your loyalty?”
Without hesitation, Patriarch Hua bowed deeply, his voice firm and resolute. “I swear to the Heavenly Dao, the Hua clan will now serve you, esteemed Dao Lord Fury.” He knew this was an opportunity not just of a lifetime, but of several millennia. To let it pass would be unthinkable.
Dao Lord Fury smiled, a satisfied expression crossing her face. Her plans were unfolding exactly as she had foreseen, and it had only taken a few carefully chosen words and pills that had long outlived their usefulness.
As she turned her gaze away, her thoughts drifted to her true ambitions. “Imperium of the heavens,” she mused silently, “I approach ever closer to ascension. Only one with fury such as mine could dare to covet the throne.”
The air around her seemed to thrum with the weight of her resolve, as if the very fabric of the universe recognized the inevitability of her ascent. The pieces were being put in place, the game approached, soon, the heavens themselves would tremble before her fury.