Scott locked eyes with the towering woman, his expression indifferent to her threats.

“I would have advised you not to start something you can’t finish,” he said, his voice calm and measured, “but it seems you’re determined to see this through. Very well, then.”

Without waiting for a response, Scott turned away, his steps deliberate as he made his way back toward his vacated seat. Behind him, the woman’s laughter echoed, sharp and mocking, but Scott marched on in silence.

Then came her voice.

“It seems you and that monkey have quite the relationship,” she remarked, her tone laced with disdain.

Scott paused, glancing over his shoulder as she continued.

“I don’t know if it’s loyalty, bravery, or sheer stupidity that drove you to step up on its behalf, but I must admit—I’m impressed. I like stupid people like you.”

With a casual motion, she pulled an item from her inventory and tossed it toward Scott. He made no move to catch it, his eyes fixed on her instead. The object didn’t fall; it hovered in midair, as if obeying an unseen force.

“That’s an invitation talisman to my territory,” she said, her grin widening. “Come find me when you have the chance. I really like stupid people like you.”

Before Scott could respond, she vanished, leaving the talisman floating in her wake.

All eyes in the room turned to Scott. Murmurs rippled through the assembly as the gathered lords whispered among themselves.

Does she and White have some kind of history? Scott wondered, keeping his thoughts hidden behind an impassive mask. He made no effort to correct the assumption that White was the leader of the 18th Order of the Mad Throne. From the woman’s declaration, it was clear most would assume he had ties to the supposed leader rather than suspecting the truth.

Scott shifted his gaze to the talisman. Its emerald surface gleamed faintly, etched with an intricate sigil depicting a muscular arm.

He ignored the item, turning to continue his ascent toward his seat. Yet as he moved, the talisman floated after him, soundless but as persistent as a mosquito.

Scott narrowed his gaze. Is it going to keep following me?

He stopped abruptly, and the talisman halted as well, hovering just a few inches away. He stepped backward, and it mirrored his movements.

This is going to get annoying, he thought, his brows furrowing. Should I just leave?

As the idea crossed his mind, a familiar voice broke his train of thought.

“Hey, you shouldn’t have done that,” Meelat said, her tone a mix of frustration and concern. “Do you realize who that woman is?”

Scott turned to see the Gruffpaw staring at him anxiously.

“I have no idea who she is,” Scott replied dryly. “Not that I care.”

Meelat sighed, shaking her head as she tried to calm herself. “I forgot this is your first time at the conference,” she whispered, regaining her composure. “Unlike you and me, there are some lords who are… notorious. That woman is one of them.”

Scott’s expression remained bland, though he could sense Meelat’s growing exasperation, as if he wasn’t grasping the gravity of her words.

“She’s the leader of Amazoniah—” Meelat began.

“She mentioned that,” Scott interjected.

Meelat frowned, massaging her temples. “Do you really understand what that means?” she pressed. “Amazoniah is one of the most infamous territories on the Endless Bridge. Their reputation alone is enough to make anyone think twice about crossing them.”

“How so?” Scott asked, intrigued despite himself.

Meelat exhaled deeply, her frustration evident. “Because every single member of her faction is said to be as strong as she is. Their territory operates under one mantra: Only the strong shall exist. Those deemed unworthy are either expelled or forced into servitude.”

Scott’s brow arched slightly. “An all-women enclave?”

Meelat nodded. “Don’t underestimate them because of that,” she warned. “Their notoriety is well-documented, even among members of the Throdan Alliance. We’re expressly forbidden from getting involved in conflicts with them. Those women are battle maniacs.”

“Oh? Is that so…” Scott murmured; his tone neutral. He offered Meelat a faint smile. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

Meelat nodded but quickly ducked her head, realizing they were now the center of attention. “Let’s return to our seats,” she suggested hurriedly. “Or will you be leaving? I don’t like being stared at by so many people.”

“I think I’ll be—” Scott began, but his voice trailed off as his gaze shifted.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted a small procession approaching from the side. Among the group were the Daoist lord and the number-one-ranked lord within the Ascendant tier. They moved in unison, their steps measured and deliberate, their expressions unreadable.

Why are they approaching me? Scott thought. Should I just leave?

He considered it but remained rooted in place.

The group stopped a few feet away, and the Daoist stepped forward, a faint smile on his face. He motioned toward Meelat, silently urging her to join him.

Meelat glanced at Scott. “Be careful,” she whispered before walking toward the Daoist.

As soon as she moved, the number-one-ranked lord stepped forward.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Scott’s gaze flicked toward her—a chimera with a humanoid, arthropod-like physique combined with beastman traits. Her presence was imposing, radiating a cold, domineering aura that filled the space.

She stopped a few paces from Scott, crossing her arms over her chest. Her piercing gaze locked on him.

“What’s your relationship with the 18th Order of the Mad Throne?” she demanded, her tone sharp and unyielding.

Scott chuckled softly. “And I should tell you that because you are… who exactly?” he replied, his gaze shifting briefly to the other lords lingering behind her. Among them, Meelat and the Daoist lord were deep in conversation, though the cultivator occasionally glanced in Scott’s direction.

The woman’s brows furrowed, her expression darkening as a deathly gleam filled her eyes. She glanced at the sigil on Scott’s clothes, her frown deepening further.

“I’m not like Aurora, who enjoys playing with her prey,” she declared. “If you’re affiliated with those heretics, you will be purged.” Her tone left no room for retort as she vanished from the hall without another word.

Scott shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. White’s doing a better job than I expected. I guess it’s impossible to gain that many territories without pissing off a lot of people. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as the thought settled.

He turned his attention back to the stationary procession. Several members had dispersed, leaving only Meelat and the Daoist approaching him in measured steps.

“Hello,” the Daoist called, his voice calm and collected. “My Daoist name is Venerable Evergreen, but you may call me Wu Chen. I’m a member of the Throdan Alliance,” he said, stopping a few feet away. With a polite bow, he cupped his fists and added, “May I ask for your name, friend?”

“You can call me Scott,” he replied curtly.

Wu Chen’s wry smile betrayed his amusement at the dry introduction.

“Ah, Scott,” he said, straightening up. “Would you mind if we had a friendly chat?”

Scott’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Are you here to pester me about my relationship with the 18th Order of the Mad Throne?” he asked bluntly.

Wu Chen chuckled softly, his smile growing. “I’ll admit I’m curious, but I’ve gathered enough to know you won’t be forced into anything against your will,” he said, his tone measured.

“Then what do you want?” Scott asked, his voice flat.

“Since you prefer to get to the point, I won’t waste your time,” Wu Chen began, his smile brightening further. “Would you be interested in joining the Throdan Alliance?”

Scott’s brows briefly arched. His gaze flicked toward Meelat, who avoided his eyes, fidgeting nervously with her hands. He refocused on Wu Chen, who maintained his amiable expression.

“Shouldn’t you ask if I’m already a member of an alliance first?” Scott asked with a faintly sarcastic smile. “Wouldn’t you be causing trouble for your alliance by poaching a lord from another?”

Wu Chen chuckled again, unruffled. “Forgive me. I should’ve asked,” he said, bowing apologetically.

“Are you responsible for recruiting lords into your alliance?” Scott asked, his tone shifting slightly.

Wu Chen straightened; his smile steady. “I do hold such authority, but it’s not mine alone. The Throdan Alliance is one of the largest on the Endless Bridge, with members from myriad races. It would be irresponsible for one person to wield that much power alone. Don’t you agree?”

Scott shrugged. “I honestly don’t care,” he replied bluntly. “As for your question, I’ll decide on my own terms. I’m not joining an alliance I know so little about.”

Before Wu Chen could respond, Scott disappeared from the hall.

----------------------------------------

You have been added to the conference registry! You can freely access written, audio, and video sessions of conferences attended via the registry!

Scott glanced briefly at the notifications before surveying his surroundings. His brows creased as his eyes landed on the emerald talisman, hovering gently in place as though waiting for him.

How the hell did it follow me here? he thought.

He opened a nihilistic portal beneath the talisman, and tendrils extended from the void, snaking toward the item. Sensing danger, the talisman darted away with astonishing speed. More portals opened around it, releasing additional tendrils that converged on their evasive target.

“Toi,” Scott called out suddenly.

A portal appeared instantly, and the examiner stepped through with an eerie grin.

“You called?” Toi quipped; his tone friendly as he closed the distance. “Why the long face? You should be grinning ear to ear after attending your first conference.”

Stopping three feet away, Toi cocked his head, examining Scott with exaggerated curiosity.

Scott folded his arms, his gaze narrowing slightly. “You conveniently left out some important details in your explanations,” he said coolly, gesturing toward the talisman that continued dodging the void tendrils. “How is that thing here? And can it be used to track me?”

Toi glanced at the talisman, then back at Scott, his grin widening.

“Oh, that’s an invitation talisman,” he explained casually. “Once handed out, it doesn’t recognize the inviter anymore. The decision to accept or reject the invitation lies entirely with the invitee. Break it, and the invitation’s accepted. Ignore it for a day, and it’ll disappear on its own.”

“And about tracking?” Scott pressed, his tone firm.

“Of course not,” Toi said with a dismissive wave. “Such an item would never be allowed in the conference hall. Anything else?” he asked, his grin as unsettling as ever.

Scott ignored the examiner and focused instead on the talisman, now teetering on the verge of being devoured by the writhing tendrils. I have no intention of visiting that madwoman’s territory, Scott mused. But then again, I need to amass as many territories as possible. Turning down such an opportunity would be foolish.

He raised his hand and made a grasping motion toward the emerald talisman. The portals disappeared, and the item flew into his palm without hesitation, vibrating faintly as though it recognized its fate. With a simple squeeze, Scott crushed it. A sharp snap echoed, and the talisman shattered into a flurry of fine, glimmering fragments that dissolved into the air.

“So?” Toi’s voice broke the brief silence, laced with curiosity. “Will that be all?”

Scott turned his attention to the examiner, his expression unreadable. He opened his mouth as though to speak, but then shook his head.

“You can leave,” Scott finally said, his tone flat.

Toi’s features flickered with surprise, unable to mask his curiosity. “Really? You’re not going to ask me anything else?”

“You’re free to linger if that’s what you want,” Scott replied, already averting his gaze. “I’m done with this conversation.”

Before Toi could respond, a nihilistic portal materialized beneath Scott’s feet. Without another word, Scott vanished.

----------------------------------------

Scott reappeared in the vast expanse of Rashka’s former territory, emerging from a portal a few feet from where he had left Orion.

He’s been busy since I left… Scott thought, his gaze sweeping across the array of advanced, unfamiliar equipment that now littered the space. Towering tubes connected to intricate machinery stood in organized clusters, their surfaces gleaming under the dim light. More striking, however, were the clones—over three hundred identical versions of Orion, each clad in pristine lab coats. They moved with seamless coordination, working diligently at the machines and tubes.

“Oh? You’re back already?” Orion’s voice came through the party channel, his tone tinged with surprise. “You disappeared—did something happen?”

“It’s nothing,” Scott replied flatly. His eyes remained fixed on the sprawling operation. “You’ve been busy, I see. It looks like you’re enjoying yourself, but have you made any progress?”

“Quite a lot, actually,” Orion responded with a chuckle. “But there’s still so much I don’t understand. No—let me rephrase that. I’m close to unraveling all the secrets inside these tubes,” he affirmed, his voice brimming with confidence.

Scott nodded silently, his gaze lingering on the synchronized efforts of the clones. Despite their efficiency, an undercurrent of unease settled over him.

This feels more like a gathering of mad scientists than a team of assistants… Scott thought, his eyes narrowing as they landed on one of the larger tubes.

“Orion,” Scott said suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence. “Is it possible to move up the timeline?”

“Huh? Why?” Orion asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

“What your variant alluded to might be happening sooner rather than later,” Scott declared.

Orion fell silent, the weight of Scott’s words settling over the channel.