Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne

The mist filled the air like a dense, poisonous web, weaving around the ruins of black towers that had long since crumbled under their own weight. The stench of decay and the metallic tang of old blood lingered, while the damp earth seemed to tremble with every whisper of an unknown wind. The Misty Labyrinth was no place for mortals. It was one of the Nine Forbidden Territories, where beings born of pure chaos still roamed—forgotten, broken, and filled with wrath.

Deep within the shadows, a pair of eyes opened. Golden, burning like twin suns, yet filled with something primal and untamed. The entity sensed an intruder.

The air suddenly thickened. The mist, which had drifted with an almost sentient rhythm, began to retreat, as though some unseen force was suppressing it. Something was disturbing its natural flow. 

The entity stirred, claws sinking into the damp ground as its massive form slithered out of the darkness. Its golden eyes widened in raw fury as they locked onto the lone figure standing among the ruins.

A human.

A deafening roar shattered the silence, shaking the very foundations of the Labyrinth. There was no warning—this was an immediate attack. The beast lunged forward, its colossal tail whipping through the air like a titanic hammer, obliterating stone pillars in its path.

The force of the impact made the air tremble.

But it met no resistance.

"Hmph."

The masked man didn’t even flinch. With a single, effortless motion, he raised his hand and stopped the beast’s tail in midair, as though catching a child’s strike. The creature’s scales groaned under their own pressure, its muscles straining in an impossible battle for dominance.

And yet—

Nothing.

Silence.

The golden eyes widened in pure shock.

"So you really are here," the man said, his voice carrying an absolute calm. Then, he released the tail, letting it slam into the ground with a dull thud.

The beast recoiled a step, growling again. It was massive—its body, covered in jagged black and deep violet scales, seemed to blend into the surrounding darkness. Every movement sent a whispering friction through its scales, like blades scraping against stone. Sharp, massive spines protruded from its back, pulsing with an eerie, faint light. Its eyes—golden, burning, filled with rage and something more—bored into the masked man. But this time, it wasn’t just fury.

It was something else. Something it hadn’t felt in millennia—uncertainty.

"How is this possible…?" it hissed, narrowing its eyes.

"So this is what’s become of the once-mighty beasts of old?" The masked man tilted his head slightly, as if pondering the thought aloud. "In your time, humans feared even stepping near your domains. And now? You flee, you cower in ruins, living like exiles. It’s amusing. Pathetic."

The beast roared and slammed a clawed foot into the ground, shaking the entire valley.

"Watch your words, human. Your blood can spill just as easily as any other’s!" it snarled, its voice reverberating through the air like thunder before a storm.

"Oh?" The masked man regarded it through his mask, arrogance dripping from his tone. "Do you truly believe that someone as weak as you could make my blood flow?"

The beast shuddered, and its fury erupted into raw, primal rage. Its claws dug into the earth, and from deep within the Labyrinth came a low, ominous rumble, as if the very land itself resonated with its wrath. The rocks beneath it cracked, the air filled with the acrid scent of burning sulfur as its breath grew hotter. The space around them warped, as though nature itself struggled to accommodate its overwhelming presence. It didn’t roar—its rage was heavy, suffocating, tangible. The mist that had once cloaked the ruins now seemed to retreat, as if even it wanted no part in what was about to happen.

The masked man smirked beneath his mask, his voice laced with both amusement and condescension.

"Oh… so you’re not just a cowering rat after all. Even as you stand before me, your fighting spirit hasn’t been extinguished. Perhaps I should show you a glimpse of my true power?"

He made no sudden movements, didn’t even lift his hand to attack. And yet—something in the air shattered.

An aura, which had been completely absent until now, erupted around him like an invisible storm, pressing down on everything in its vicinity. The air grew dense, heavy, as if every breath now required sheer force of will. The mist, which had previously recoiled in response to the beast’s rage, now swirled wildly, driven back by something far more ominous.

The beast felt it—its own body betraying it. Instinct commanded it to fight, yet something deep within screamed in warning. Its claws, which had trembled with fury moments ago, now felt sluggish, its heart pounding harder—not from anger, but from something far worse.

Pure, primal fear.

The beast's golden eyes flickered, its massive chest rising and falling with deep, labored breaths. The suffocating aura pressing down on it was unlike anything it had experienced in millennia. Its claws, once poised to rip flesh from bone, hesitated mid-air.

"Why… why have you come?" it rasped, its voice barely more than a growl, yet tinged with something unfamiliar—dread.

"Oh? So you finally realize you have no choice?" The masked man tilted his head slightly, his tone laced with amusement. "But you need not worry. I am not here to kill you."

As suddenly as it had appeared, the crushing pressure vanished. The suffocating weight lifted, dissipating like mist before the morning sun. It was as if the overwhelming presence had never existed.

The beast staggered slightly, its tail scraping against the cracked ground as it regained its footing. Wariness lingered in its eyes, but beneath it, something else simmered—a flicker of recognition.

"The world was not always as it is now," the masked man continued, his voice carrying through the ruins like a whisper from the past. "Once, monsters were the true rulers of this world. Humanity cowered in the shadows, trembling before the might you embodied. There were no cultivators, no hunters, no organizations treating you as mere prey. You were unchallenged, untamed."

He stepped forward, his presence unnervingly calm. "And now?" A hint of mockery crept into his tone. "You live in ruins, stripped of your legacy, hunted and slaughtered to satisfy the ambitions of mortals. Once, humans wouldn't dare to meet your gaze. Now, they use you as stepping stones. You have fallen."

The beast growled, slamming a clawed foot into the earth, causing the valley to quake. "Watch your tongue, human. Your blood can spill just as easily as any other’s."

The masked man’s lips curled into a smirk beneath his mask. "Is that so? Do you truly believe that someone as weak as you could make my blood flow?"

The beast stiffened. Fury blazed in its eyes, but beneath that fury, a shadow of doubt lingered.

Then, in the masked man’s hands, two black crystals materialized. They pulsed with a darkness so deep that even the feeble light of the ruins seemed to shrink away from them. The energy within them was ancient, primordial, a remnant of something that had refused to die.

The beast’s entire form tensed. Recognition flashed in its golden eyes.

"That…" Its voice dropped to a near whisper, a stark contrast to the raw power it had displayed mere moments ago.

The masked man slowly curled his fingers around one of the crystals, his voice barely above a murmur. "Yes. These are the Abyss King’s Black Cores. Fragments of his power, echoes of his dominion over this world."

The pulsing darkness from the cores danced across the beast’s scales, casting long shadows that flickered like ghosts of an ancient past. The masked man’s grip tightened slightly as he raised the crystals higher.

"I seek to restore what was lost. To bring the true order of this world back into balance."

The words rang through the ruins like a decree.

The beast’s golden eyes narrowed, its tail flicking once against the shattered remains of stone pillars. It studied the man before it, measuring his conviction, weighing his words. Silence stretched between them, thick and tense.

Then, at last, the beast spoke. "Why would a human seek to resurrect the Abyss King?"

The masked man chuckled, but there was no humor in his voice. "That is not for you to question. All you need to know is that, like you, I desire his return."

He extended the black cores slightly, their energy pulsating with a slow, steady rhythm.

"The only question that matters now is this—will you stand with me? Will you help me reclaim the remaining cores?"

The beast’s gaze flickered, and for the first time in countless ages, something long buried stirred within it. The ember of old dominion, of long-forgotten sovereignty. A primal hunger awakened—one that had once shaped the fate of this world.

***

Far away, in the heart of the Royal Palace, the soft glow of enchanted lamps bathed the grand study in warm golden light. Shelves lined with ancient tomes stretched to the ceiling, their aged leather bindings exuding the scent of wisdom accumulated over centuries. A faint trace of tea lingered in the air, mixing with the distant echo of guards’ footsteps patrolling the marble corridors.

Nestled in a deep, cushioned chair, a young girl sat with a book in her lap, her small fingers idly tracing the faded ink of its pages. Her face remained unreadable as she absorbed the knowledge before her.

"I never thought you would enjoy books this much." A soft, melodic voice broke the silence.

Sylphia lifted her gaze, meeting the eyes of her mother, the Queen, who leaned casually against the doorway. Her silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, her eyes carrying the glimmer of quiet curiosity.

Before Sylphia could respond, the Queen stepped forward with effortless grace, lifting her daughter into her arms and settling her onto her lap. The young girl exhaled softly but did not protest, her fingers still lightly resting on the open page of the book.

The Queen's smile lingered as she watched her daughter, amusement flickering in her silver eyes. "So?" she asked again. "Do you truly love books that much?"

Sylphia shook her head. "Not particularly," she admitted honestly. "But I want to understand the history of this world. I need to know the place I was born into."

The Queen raised an eyebrow. "'Need' is quite a strong word for a child your age." Her fingers traced the velvet fabric of the chair absentmindedly before she looked at her daughter once more.

Sylphia shrugged. "It's true that I'm a child, but I'm not like other children."

At those words, the Queen let out a soft chuckle, gently running her fingers through Sylphia's hair. "It's a little frightening to imagine what you'll say when you're older."

The young girl hesitated for a moment before deciding to get straight to the point.

"Mommy...." she began, gazing up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "I searched the library, but I couldn't find any books about cultivators."

The Queen immediately stopped stroking her hair, her gaze sharpening as she studied her daughter.

"It's too early for such things," she said calmly. "You don't need to concern yourself with that yet."

Sylphia, however, had no intention of giving up so easily. This was her chance.

Her expression shifted—her eyes shimmered, almost teary, and her lips pouted slightly. She was adorable. Too adorable.

"But Mom..." she murmured softly, drawing out her words just enough. "I'm not like other children. I've been absorbing Qi since birth, strengthening my body, and developing faster. Doesn't that mean I should have access to this knowledge?"

The Queen regarded her with a mixture of amusement and resignation. She knew that look. She had seen it before. And she was well aware that even the most powerful beings in the kingdom wouldn't be able to resist such manipulation.

The Queen sighed, her expression darkening for just a moment. She had watched Sylphia's rapid growth, but now, for the first time, she truly understood—her daughter was growing up too fast. How much longer would she be able to treat her as a child?

"You certainly know how to use your strengths to your advantage," she muttered. Instead of moving from her seat, she lifted her hand and made a small motion with her fingers. The silver ring on her hand gleamed with a faint glow.

From thin air, as if summoned from the void, a small book bound in black leather appeared in her grasp. The remnants of magic swirled around it briefly before fading, leaving only the faint rustle of pages shifting against one another.

The Queen looked down at her daughter and extended the book toward her.

"Only this one," she stated firmly. "And if I see you trying to learn more than you should, I will personally take it away."

Sylphia accepted the book with a glint of triumph in her eyes but masked it behind a serious expression.

"Of course, Mom ."

The Queen eyed her suspiciously but said nothing further.