Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne

The queen sat in her study, her gaze fixed on the scrolls spread out before her. Her expression was cold and focused, but her mind had long since drifted away from the reports. Something was wrong.

The Black Flame Sect and the Golden Dragon Brotherhood never acted impulsively. They always schemed, always waited for the perfect moment. And now… they had openly provoked the king and Kaelrith, forcing them to leave the palace.

This couldn’t be a coincidence.

Her fingers tightened against the edge of the desk as her thoughts began weaving into a logical conclusion. They wanted her husband gone. But why now?

And then it struck her.

Their daughter. Sylphia.

She was the only variable in the past few months.

The queen’s heart quickened. Was she their true target?

Before she could finish the thought, her Qi erupted. The air around her twisted, space itself tore like fragile fabric, and in the blink of an eye, she vanished.

***

The room was peaceful. Quiet. Warm. The little princess lay in my arms, babbling softly, her blue eyes tracking my every movement. She was different. Not like other infants—more aware, more focused, as if she understood more than she should.

But that didn’t matter. My duty was to care for her, not to question.

I smiled, gently rocking her.

"You’re beautiful, Your Highness," I whispered with warmth. "Maybe one day, you’ll make the whole world fall in love with you, hmm?"

Humming softly, I savored the rare moment of tranquility.

And then…

Something changed.

I couldn’t say what exactly. The air grew heavier, like an unseen weight pressing down on my shoulders. A shiver ran down my spine as the hairs on my neck stood on end.

And then—she appeared.

She hadn’t opened the door. Hadn’t made a sound. She simply was

The queen.

Not a single fold of her gown moved, yet the energy around her pulsed violently, as if she had just torn through space itself to arrive. Her eyes burned with an untamed fire, and every line of her body radiated sheer power.

My heart stopped.

"Y-Your Majesty…" I stammered, instinctively kneeling while still holding the princess in my arms.

The queen’s gaze swept the room in an instant, analyzing every detail. Her breath was slow, but she could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. She had confirmed—there was no threat. No assassination. The maid held the child with genuine care, and Sylphia seemed calm.

She pressed her lips together, chastising herself internally. She had let emotions take over.

It was rare. But the thought that she could have lost her child… That she could have lost her this way…

After a few long seconds, her rigid stance relaxed slightly. She had been mistaken.

A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she turned her gaze from the child to the maid, who still knelt before her, trembling slightly. The tension in her posture spoke for itself.

"Stand," the queen commanded, her tone devoid of emotion.

The maid obeyed instantly, though she did not lift her gaze. The queen studied her for a long moment, searching for any trace of deception, as if she might still uncover a hidden threat. But she found nothing. The girl truly cared for Sylphia. That much was certain.

"You will care for her with utmost diligence," she said softly, though there was a warning laced within her voice. "Nothing must happen to her."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the maid replied at once, holding the princess closer.

The queen did not respond. Her eyes shifted back to her daughter. The tiny being stared at her with piercing blue eyes—so intense that, for a fleeting moment, the queen felt as if the child understood more than she should. A feeling she hadn’t experienced in years crept into her heart—doubt.

After a brief pause, she turned toward the exit.

As she crossed the threshold, her shadow moved.

Without looking back, she lifted her hand.

"Watch over her. Do not leave her side," she ordered in a hushed voice. "If anyone approaches… take the necessary steps."

The presence lurking in the shadows did not answer. It simply vanished, melting into the surrounding darkness like a specter.

The queen continued down the corridor, her footsteps echoing hollowly through the palace.

***

Pov Sylphia

I saw it with my own eyes. A person appeared out of nowhere.

No doors. No footsteps. No warning—she was simply there, and then she was gone. One moment, the air was heavy with her presence; the next, all I felt was the warmth of the maid’s arms once again.

It was… terrifying.

But at the same time, fascinating.

There was no doubt. People in this world could achieve things that had once been impossible to me. My mother was no ordinary person. She was something more. She was powerful.

And if she could do it… could I?

Could I learn to do the same?

I wanted to understand. I wanted to achieve it.

But before I could think further, another question emerged. Why did she leave?

Just moments ago, she had been elsewhere, and then she had come here as if something had driven her to act on impulse. What thought had pushed her to see me so urgently? Had something happened?

The thoughts tangled in my mind, but my body was already betraying me.

My eyelids grew heavy. The warmth of the maid’s hands soothed me, the gentle rocking a reminder of how fragile my current form was.

My breathing slowed. My thoughts dissolved into nothingness.

And then came the darkness.

Still cradled in the arms of the trembling maid, shaken from her encounter with my mother, I drifted into sleep.

Black Flame Sect Headquarters, Fortress of the Bloodfire...

The Black Flame Sect was perched atop the towering Heavenly Fire Mountain, a place so saturated with Qi that the very air seemed to tremble with raw energy. Black wisps of smoke coiled endlessly around the peak, writhing in the sky like the souls of those consumed by its flames. The fortress itself was a foreboding structure, its entrance guarded by runic gates carved into obsidian stone, pulsating with a sinister aura.

High above the earth, three figures materialized in the sky. The King, General Kaelrith, and the Third Prince.

Their robes fluttered in the wind, yet their bodies remained unmoved by the altitude.

The King glanced at Kaelrith, then at his son.

"We move," he commanded, his voice like tempered steel.

Before they could descend, the air around them suddenly wavered, and a figure emerged before them. A man clad in violet and black robes stood tall, his chin raised, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips.

"How dare you trespass upon our domain and look down upon us from above?!" he snarled, his eyes ablaze with fury. "Do you truly believe you can simply appear in the skies above the Fortress of the Bloodfire and walk away without consequence?"

The moment he finished speaking, his body stiffened.

Just one glance.

His entire demeanor crumbled in an instant. His arrogance drained from him like water slipping through trembling fingers. His legs faltered beneath him, his lips parted as if he had momentarily forgotten how to breathe. Terror washed over his face like the shadow of an executioner’s blade.

The King looked away, already losing interest.

"I have no time for pawns," he said coldly. "Tell Jorath and Vaelthas to present themselves before me. Unless, of course, they wish for your sect to be reduced to ashes."

For a moment, no one moved.

Then the very air quivered, as if the mountain itself shuddered under an unseen pressure.

Two dark silhouettes appeared before the King.

Jorath, Grandmaster of the Golden Dragon Brotherhood, was a lean man with long silver hair woven into a braid. His golden eyes gleamed in the dim light, a faint smile playing on his lips—one that suggested he found the situation amusing.

Vaelthas, Grandmaster of the Black Flame Order, was his stark contrast. Tall, clad in robes so black they seemed to devour the light around them. His skin bore the ashen hue of burnt embers, and his eyes glowed like smoldering coals hidden beneath the depths of his hood.

"Hah… so it’s true," Vaelthas mused, tilting his chin slightly. "The King himself has taken the trouble to stand at the gates of the Black Flame Order. Something truly extraordinary must have happened for Your Majesty to grace us with your presence. Tell me, what urgent matter compelled you to leave the safety of your royal palace?"

The King gazed at them, his expression devoid of emotion.