Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne

Sylphia walked briskly through the palace corridors. Her breath was uneven, her fingers clenched into fists, and her chest burned with fury. She had never been this angry before.

How could her mother do this? How could she simply buy a person like an object and bring them here as if it were the most ordinary decision in her life? As if it were just another transaction, like purchasing a new gown or a rare gemstone. No, this wasn’t right. This had no right to be right!

The guards at the queen’s chambers glanced at her, but a single look into her piercing blue eyes was enough to make them step aside without a word. Sylphia pushed open the doors with such force that the sound echoed through the spacious hall.

Veynessa, bent over a stack of parchments, didn’t even flinch. She calmly finished signing a document before lifting her gaze to her daughter.

"Something happened, Sylphia?" she asked in a composed, emotionless tone.

"Yes!" the princess nearly shouted, her fists trembling. "How could you do this?! How could you buy Shion and bring her here like some kind of thing?!"

Veynessa raised an eyebrow.

"I saved her." Her voice remained cold, as if she were discussing something entirely trivial. "Or at the very least, I gave her a chance at something better than dying in chains."

"That’s not saving her!" Sylphia gritted her teeth. "People aren’t objects! You can’t buy and sell them like cattle!"

The queen sighed softly and slowly set her quill aside. She stood up, her movements graceful and controlled. Taking a few steps toward Sylphia, she looked down at her.

"Do you truly believe the world works the way you imagine it does?" Her voice sharpened, though she did not raise it. It was the icy confidence of someone who had seen far more than they wished. "Do you think that if I hadn’t bought Shion, she would have been freed? That someone would have allowed her to live a free life just because you would have wanted it?"

"I don’t know! But at the very least, I wouldn’t have treated her like a tool!" Sylphia slammed her fist onto the table. "I wouldn’t have brought her here and told her she had to serve me!"

"Because that’s how the world works." Veynessa’s response was dry. "Don’t ask me to apologize for saving her in the only way I could."

Sylphia felt a lump forming in her throat. Her mother was saying all of this with such ease. With such indifference.

"It’s inhumane…" she whispered at last.

Veynessa watched her in silence for a moment. Then she did something Sylphia never expected.

She reached out, took her wrist, and pulled her forward. Sylphia, caught off guard, didn’t resist when her mother sat down on the sofa and, without warning, settled her onto her lap.

"W-What...?" Sylphia tried to pull away, but Veynessa held her gently yet firmly.

"It’s inhumane?" she repeated softly, her voice still measured, but now carrying a faint warmth. "This is the world, Sylphia. A world that doesn’t care about what is right or wrong. A world where you are either strong, or you are nothing. Where people like Shion vanish without a trace unless someone decides to use them."

Sylphia clenched her jaw.

"I don’t want the world to be like that," she murmured.

"And I don’t want you to face it until you’re ready," Veynessa replied just as quietly. "But I can’t protect you from everything. And I can’t change reality just because I’d like you to remain innocent."

Something inside Sylphia cracked. She wasn’t angry anymore. She was... tired.

She didn’t know what to think about any of this.

"You are my daughter, Sylphia. You don’t have to agree with what I do. But I will not let you see the world through the eyes of a child who doesn’t understand how it truly works."

Veynessa sighed, then, to Sylphia’s surprise, wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close.

"If you truly want to help her, don’t dwell on what has been. Teach her that she can be more. Give her purpose. Make her feel like she belongs in this world."

Sylphia buried her face against her mother’s shoulder, unable to stop the slight tremble in her chest.

"Alright…" she whispered. "I’ll try."

Veynessa kissed her forehead.

She then ran a hand over the smooth surface of the table before looking at her daughter with a small smile. "And since you’re here, let’s use this moment. Would you like to see what power truly looks like?"

Sylphia looked up, still slightly dazed from their conversation. "Now?"

"Now," the queen confirmed, gesturing to the stack of parchments on her desk. "These documents hold the fates of people, lands, and resources. A single decision can change the lives of hundreds."

She met Sylphia’s gaze intently.

"Do you truly want to understand why I made the decision I did with Shion? Sit beside me and learn."

Sylphia hesitated for a moment, but then, with newfound determination, she sat beside her mother. Veynessa slid a document in front of her and tapped it with her finger.

"Let’s start with something simple. Signing this order means that a border town will receive additional supplies for the winter. Sounds like the right thing to do, doesn’t it?"

"Of course." Sylphia frowned. "Why wouldn’t I sign it?"

"Because those supplies have to come from somewhere," Veynessa replied. "It means reducing palace provisions or raising taxes in another part of the kingdom. A decision is never as simple as it seems."

Sylphia remained silent for a moment, then picked up the quill and began analyzing the document. Her mother watched her closely, something resembling pride flickering in her eyes.

"The world doesn’t change through beautiful ideals, Sylphia," she said at last. "It changes through decisions."

The lair of the Mist Labyrinth’s guardian was eerily silent—a stillness that should never exist in a place usually teeming with powerful beasts. And yet… there was no one here.

Kaelrith drove his sword into the ground and looked at the scattered corpses of monsters. There were too many. Far too many.

"How many did we kill?" he asked, wiping his face with his hand.

"Too many," Maelthorn replied grimly, glancing at his blade, still slick with black ichor. "And something’s wrong with them. Every one of these beasts was… altered."

Deymos crouched beside one of the slain creatures, inspecting its body. Its scaly hide was cracked, and beneath it, strange, glowing veins pulsed faintly. The Qi in the air was tainted, chaotic, as if something had invaded these creatures' very nature and twisted them into something unnatural.

"Mutated," he said quietly. "All of them. These aren’t normal beasts. Someone… or something… changed them."

Maelthorn spat on the ground. "That’s not a good sign."

Deymos frowned. He could feel something stirring within him, as if the Qi in the air resonated with his own energy. A sudden burning sensation flared in his eyes. The world around him shifted.

When he looked at the lair again, he no longer saw just ruined walls and dead beasts.

He saw auras.

Two massive energies. One—immense, vast like an ocean, overwhelming in its sheer presence. The other… was different. It was like a shadow in the water, shifting in form. At times unimaginably large, as if it could swallow the entire world, and at others so minuscule it barely existed.

Something had happened here.

"There were two powerful entities here," he said suddenly, his voice distant as if speaking from another place. "One was the guardian… but the other… I don’t know what it was. The Qi is strange. Immense, yet tiny at the same time. It doesn’t make sense."

Maelthorn and Kaelrith exchanged looks.

"Can you tell us anything more?" Kaelrith asked, tightening his grip on his sword.

Deymos narrowed his eyes, focusing on the lingering Qi traces. It was clear that some kind of technique had been used here. But…

"I don’t recognize this technique," he admitted. "It’s… completely different from anything I know. No cultivation sect uses something like this. It doesn’t resemble offensive techniques or support arts."

He fell silent for a moment, furrowing his brows. He concentrated on what he was seeing, analyzing the chaotic Qi patterns still lingering in the air. Something was off. This wasn’t just residual energy from a battle—there was something unsettling about it. As if it wasn’t just the remnants of powerful beings, but something that was still moving, shifting, transforming.

"It could be related to transformation…" he said at last, choosing his words carefully. "That would explain the changes in the beasts' appearance and strength. As if something… forced them to evolve unnaturally."