A week had passed, and the prodigies of the Phoenix Cry Empire returned from their training within the pocket dimension.
Inside the imperial palace, Xue Mor stood beside her father, Emperor Huo Feng, as the gathered elders watched over the hall. The air trembled as the emperor's sons led the returning warriors forward. Their eyes burned with battle intent, their auras sharpened like drawn swords.
Before anyone could speak, Emperor Huo Feng let out a booming laugh.
"You return, eager for battle… yet those you wish to challenge have already left!"
Murmurs spread through the ranks of warriors.
Raikai and Shinryu had already departed for their own clans, securing final blessings and preparing for the great journey ahead.
The emperor crossed his arms, his golden eyes flashing with authority.
"Do not be so eager to compare yourselves yet. If you wish to prove your worth, do so in the battles ahead—not through petty rivalries."
The gathered prodigies lowered their heads in acknowledgment.
The Gift of Eternal Arms
The elders stepped forward, presenting a collection of Eternal Weapons—each forged from fire-based materials, perfectly suited for the warriors of Phoenix Cry.
Each genius received a weapon—a symbol of their standing and responsibility.
The emperor's gaze swept over them. "These weapons are not for dueling your allies." His voice was sharp, commanding. "They are for carving your names into the world."
With their new armaments, the Phoenix Cry prodigies were ready.
Departure to the Death Nights
With no further delay, Emperor Huo Feng raised his hand.
"It is time. Go forth, meet with the others, and prepare for the trials ahead."
And with that, Xue Mor and the Phoenix Cry elite departed—heading toward their next challenge.
But their movements did not go unnoticed. Spies from across the land immediately relayed information back to their respective factions. Powerful forces watched, waiting for the moment to strike.
Chapter 2: The Silent Accord
The journey toward the Death Nights was uneventful—until the night of the third camp.
Xue Mor sat in quiet contemplation, her mind sharpening plans for the battles to come, when a shadow emerged from the darkness.
She did not react with alarm. Instead, she merely lifted her gaze, calm and expectant.
At her flanks, her elder brothers, Hou Jian and Hui Liang, stood without drawing their weapons. They did not need to. Their little sister had taken the lead in matters like these, and they had grown accustomed to watching.
Still, they both assessed the figure with piercing gazes. From the strength radiating off him, they knew—only the guards could take him down for now.
The masked man stepped forward, his aura restrained but undeniable.
"Impressive discipline," he remarked. "Most would have drawn their blades by now."
Xue Mor remained silent for a moment, then spoke evenly.
"You knew exactly who we were before you approached." Her gaze was like ice. "That means you have a purpose. Speak, before I decide you are wasting my time."
A chuckle. "Sharp, just as the rumors say."
The masked figure reached into his robes and tossed a small jade token toward her. It spun through the air before she caught it effortlessly between two fingers.
A single character was engraved upon it.
Moon.
Hou Jian's smirk faded. Hui Liang's fingers twitched toward his blade.
The Moonlit Abyss Sect.
A sect of assassins, spies, and unseen power, known to interfere only when something was truly worth their attention.
Xue Mor studied the token, then slipped it into her sleeve. "You have my attention."
The masked man inclined his head slightly. "A deal."
A Storm Approaches
He gestured toward the night sky. "The younger generation will rule soon. Your realms may be low for now, but that will change quickly. A storm approaches."
Hui Liang's gaze darkened. "What storm?"
The figure's voice remained calm. "The Obsidian Shadow Empire."
The very mention of the name made the flames flicker.
Hou Jian stiffened slightly, his posture losing its usual ease. "So, it begins."
The Obsidian Shadow Empire. A faction of ruthless assassins, conquerors, and manipulators. They did not conquer through force alone, but through the slow corrosion of empires, breaking nations from within.
Xue Mor exhaled softly. "And you bring this warning to us out of goodwill?"
A chuckle. "Goodwill… and necessity."
Xue Mor's eyes narrowed. "Then tell me what you want."
The masked figure's tone did not waver.
"We will have agents among the prodigies training in the Death Nights. If they find themselves in danger from rival sects, we expect you to provide aid."
Hou Jian tilted his head. "A simple request."
The man shook his head. "No. It is not just rivalry. Soon, new places will open—places that only the younger generation can enter. The universe itself ensures that old foxes like me cannot interfere. Within these training grounds, our sect's future will be at risk. If my people face annihilation, we ask that you intervene."
Hui Liang exhaled. "And in return?"
The masked figure's voice lowered.
"We will do the same for you. If your people find themselves in danger, we will assist from the shadows. You may not always see us, but know that we will be there."
The fire crackled. A wind rustled through the trees.
Xue Mor considered, then finally spoke. "A pact bound by mutual survival."
The masked man nodded. "Exactly."
Hou Jian crossed his arms. "This is no small matter. You ask for trust, and yet, trust is not easily given."
The man chuckled. "True. But when the storm comes, we will both see the wisdom of this arrangement."
Xue Mor tapped the jade token once, weighing the risks. Then, she looked at her brothers.
Hui Liang gave a small nod. Hou Jian sighed, but did not object.
Xue Mor turned back to the masked man.
"We accept."
The deal was struck.
And the shadows moved.