Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne

Darkness spread through the chamber like ink, stretching shadows across the walls adorned with golden symbols of ancient masters. The scent of burning incense intertwined with the cool air, creating an atmosphere that was both soothing and unsettling. At the center of the stone table where they sat rested a small, unassuming box.

"The king has no choice." The voice of the Grandmaster of the Black Flame Order was quiet, yet it carried undeniable certainty. "He has lost another battle. The White Dragon Sect has taken the Crystal Spring from him, and his younger generation is incapable of matching them. His image is beginning to crack. He must respond."

"And he will. Personally." The Grandmaster of the Golden Dragon Brotherhood tilted his head slightly, as if analyzing pieces on an invisible board. "The king and Kaelrith… both in person."

"It will be a difficult battle. Kaelrith is not someone to be underestimated. Even if we manage to defeat them, our losses will be severe."

"Battle?" The second master raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his gaze. "I do not care about battle. That is not why we are leading them into this move."

A silence fell over the room.

"Our goal is not war." He placed a hand on the box. "We want to force the king to accept the Grand Tournament. In twenty years."

The Black Flame Grandmaster narrowed his eyes, considering the statement.

"A tournament? For what purpose? We already know their younger generation will never surpass ours. The king knows it as well. He would never agree to such a thing."

The Golden Dragon Grandmaster smirked and opened the box. Inside, resting on a black cushion, was a small, jade pill. The aura it radiated was almost tangible, like the pulse of life encased in flawless form.

"He will agree. Because we will give him something he desires more than power."

"Impossible…" One of the masters leaned closer, his eyes widening as realization dawned. "That’s…"

"The Legendary Soul Restoration Pill." The Golden Dragon Grandmaster snapped the lid shut. "The king has spent the past fifty years searching for a way to save his firstborn."

Silence weighed heavy in the room.

"His son…" someone whispered. "The greatest genius of their bloodline. Brought down by the schemes of several sects, left in a coma, his soul torn to shreds."

"When we place this pill as the grand prize… the king will come to us himself. And he will sign his own death warrant."

"A wise move." The Black Flame Grandmaster nodded, a shadow of a smile crossing his lips. "Twenty years. That is enough time for the world to believe this is a fair contest. But in reality…"

"In reality, it will be his downfall." The second master finished. "We do not need to wage war if the world itself decides his era has ended. And the best part? He will believe it too."

"Twenty years," the first master murmured, clasping his hands together. "Enough time to make him think he can prepare his lineage, that he still has a chance. False hope is the most powerful weapon. It will not only make him accept our proposal but drive him to pursue it with everything he has."

"Yes," the other confirmed, his satisfaction evident in his expression. "And when that day comes… he will realize he lost long ago."

A soft chuckle broke the silence.

"Time is our greatest ally."

The curling smoke of the incense rose above the stone table, carrying with it the whispers of a plan that would reshape the world's future.

Warmth. It was everywhere, wrapping around me like the softest silk. The gentle touch of fabric, the quiet rhythm of breathing, the steady heartbeat beneath my cheek. Mother.

She still held me in her arms, as if afraid to let go. My head rested against her chest, and her hand moved through my hair in slow, soothing strokes.

"I always wanted a daughter," she whispered. Her voice was more than just words—it was a confession, a secret never before spoken aloud.

I held my breath.

A girl.

It was obvious. I already knew. But it was only now that I truly felt it.

For my entire life, I had been a man. I had never once considered what it meant to be a woman. But now… this was me. This is me. And I couldn’t change it.

I lifted my gaze, meeting my mother’s eyes. She was beautiful—not in the ordinary sense of the word, but in a way that felt almost inhuman. Her features were perfectly symmetrical, her hair shimmered as if woven from moonlight, and her eyes held a depth that defied description. She looked like a goddess.

And then, a thought surfaced…

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Maybe living in this body wouldn’t be so hard if I could look like her.

But my moment of reflection was abruptly interrupted.

Hunger.

It was sudden, unbearable, piercing through my new, fragile body. I began to squirm restlessly, unable to suppress the discomfort. My mother must have noticed because she let out a quiet chuckle.

"You're hungry," she said with a tender smile.

And then came the feeding.

She gently shifted me closer, her movements fluid and full of natural care, as if guided by pure instinct. Before I could fully comprehend what was happening, I felt the warmth and softness of her skin. It was… strange. Deeply intimate, yet entirely beyond my control.

A rush of heat flooded my face. I knew it was natural. I knew it was necessary. But the sheer awareness of the act made me want to disappear. In my past life… this would have been unthinkable. And now?

Instinct took over. Hunger was stronger than shame, stronger than discomfort. I surrendered almost unconsciously, and soon, a warm, soothing liquid filled my mouth, spreading a comforting heat through my new body. Every cell seemed to absorb the nourishment as if teetering on the edge of exhaustion.

My mother chuckled softly, her fingers brushing gently through my hair.

"My little girl…" she whispered.

Those simple words eased some of the tension within me. Perhaps because there was something so warm, so full of love in her voice that, in this moment, it no longer felt strange.

Suddenly, the chamber doors burst open, and a young woman dressed in deep green maid’s robes rushed inside. Her breath was quick and uneven, as if she had sprinted across half the palace. But the moment she saw the queen cradling me to her chest, she halted instantly, as though her urgency had collided with the unshakable serenity of the room.

"Your Majesty…" Her voice wavered slightly, but she quickly composed herself and knelt with respect. "The king, General Kaelrith, and the third prince have just left the palace. They are heading straight for the Black Flame Order."

The words echoed in my mind.

The queen lifted her gaze, yet she did not look surprised. Her expression remained calm, as if she had anticipated the news.

"I see," she murmured, gently adjusting the fabric wrapped around my body. "Then the palace will remain under my care."

The maid bowed deeply, awaiting further instructions, but my mother remained silent for a moment. Instead, her hand traced my face, her fingers brushing my cheek with a warmth tinged with an unspoken concern.

"It’s time," she finally said with a soft sigh. "I wasn’t even given a chance to enjoy my daughter or rest after childbirth… but duty calls."

With careful tenderness, she lifted me away and placed me into the arms of the waiting maid. I couldn't help but tense slightly—her embrace had been warm and safe, and now, despite the maid’s careful grip, a chill of emptiness crept in.

"Make sure she has everything she needs," my mother instructed. The maid immediately straightened, her posture shifting into one of firm resolve.

"Yes, Your Majesty," the maid replied quietly, gently rocking me in her arms.

The queen stepped toward the door, pausing for a brief moment to glance back at me one last time before leaving. Her steps were light, yet something lingered in the air after her departure—an invisible presence that commanded the space she left behind. Something told me that the power she wielded was not just a title—it was something far greater.