The sun rose with dignified grace over the majestic spires of the Heavenly Radiance Sect, casting golden rays across its cloud-piercing towers and ivory pavilions. The Sect, nestled amidst a vast bamboo grove, radiated divine majesty—its shimmering formation arrays humming quietly in the morning air like a celestial chant. Marble stairs, etched with glowing talismans, spiraled down into lush terraces where disciples knelt in meditation.
Beneath the tranquil exterior, the Sect buzzed with an energy.
A summit was about to begin.
Summoned by none other than Master Shen Zhenhai, the leader of Heavenly Radiance and de facto steward of the orthodox path, the righteous sects were gathering. It was an event not seen in decades. The Alliance of the Twelve Righteous Orders, a gathering of the orthodox sects across the central plains, had been called to deliberate a single matter, the continued existence of the Obsidian Peak Sect.
First to arrive was Mistveil Pavilion, their signature silver cloud ferry descending smoothly into the courtyard. At the helm stood Elder Yun Haishen, a man of scholarly demeanor whose eyes were as unreadable as frozen lakes. Known for his sharp intellect and biting rhetoric, he was both feared and admired among the sects.
"Another page in history to be written in blood or ink," he mused, stepping onto the polished flagstones with a sigh. "Let us hope it's the latter."
Following close behind was Sunheart Temple, a sect known for its fire-based cultivation and ascetic lifestyle. Their representative, Abbot Jinhai, walked barefoot across the stone courtyard, his crimson monk's robe dragging a trail of golden dust. His head was shaved, his eyes closed in serenity, yet the burning spirit of his inner flame could be felt by all who neared him.
"The Obsidian Peak carries a shadow long feared," he said softly to no one in particular. "Whether it has dulled or sharpened, we shall see."
From the west came Sky Storm Sect. Their sect was famed for air and lightning cultivation, and their envoy, Master Su Qing, a serene woman with flowing robes of pale blue, landed lightly like a feather. Her presence was peaceful, but her expression was troubled.
"I wonder," she said to her disciples, "if our fear has begun to speak louder than our wisdom."
Other sects soon arrived. The Crimson Rain Sect was led by the stoic and militaristic Elder Gan Mo, his scarred visage a living testament to wars long past. Then came Serene Jade Valley, represented by Mistress Qian Lanyue, a proud and regal matriarch, her disciples adorned in flowing green silks and strings of luminous pearls. The Iron Bell Monastery followed, a formidable martial sect headed by Elder Bo Jian, a broad-shouldered man who held that might, when wielded for the righteous, was the truest path to justice.
Last to arrive was the Shifting Tides Sect. Though lesser-known, their influence was undeniable. Their envoy, Master Lin Zhou, cloaked his cunning in soft words and modest smiles, a silver-tongued strategist who wielded diplomacy like a blade.
The sect leaders gathered within the Hall of Celestial Deliberation, a vast chamber lit by floating lanterns and enchanted mirrors that reflected each speaker's image tenfold. Pillars of dragon-carved jade loomed overhead, and a long, crescent-shaped table was set for discussion.
At the center sat Master Shen Zhenhai, clad in golden robes with silver trimmings, his flowing beard immaculate, his gaze cold yet composed.
He struck his staff once, and silence fell.
"Brothers and sisters of the righteous path," Shen Zhenhai proclaimed, his voice firm and solemn, "we gather today to confront a festering wound upon the body of our realm—the Obsidian Peak Sect. Their history is marred by darkness, soul-forging rites, silent assassinations, forbidden arts and techniques that corrupt the spirit. Let us not forget the tragedy that befell the Azure Cloud Sect, a massacre so merciless, not even the children were spared. They may lie quiet now, but snakes may slumber but they do not forget how to bite."
There was a murmur of agreement from some. Elder Gan Mo grunted approvingly, and Elder Bo Jian nodded solemnly.
"Must we wait," Shen Zhenhai continued, "until their fangs find new flesh?"
But not all were convinced.
Master Su Qing of Sky Storm Sect spoke first, her voice like morning rain. "And yet, they have made no hostile moves recently. Are we to condemn silence as deceit?"
"Silence from the guilty is not innocence," Elder Bo Jian snapped.
"Let us not forget the incident last moon," he said, voice like thunder. "A portal was triggered in the Mortal Realm. Readings of dark spiritual energy accompanied the event. And who else commands such power in the southern reaches but Obsidian Peak Sect?"
A hush fell. That detail was new.
Abbot Jinhai opened his eyes for the first time, their depth like still water. "You speak of the Mortal Realm?"
Shen Zhenhai gave a solemn nod. "We detected residual temporal energy awakened by the long-lost Celestial Eclipse Manual."
At that, Oracle Miao shifted, her presence as ethereal as mist. When she spoke, her voice drifted like wind through hollow reeds.
"Two daughters of the dual shadow entered that realm. I saw them in the haze of my dream-prophecies."
A hush fell, broken only by the collective gasp that followed.
Yun Haishen frowned. "That could mean many things. The prophecy is unclear. Symbols deceive."
"That sacred tome," Shen continued, "was stolen from our very halls during a celestial disturbance. A tragedy! A theft of a divine artifact—one that bears the name 'Celestial Eclipse.' Tell me, does that not ring with heavenly mandate? Is it not clear that such a scripture rightfully belongs to the Heavenly Radiance Sect, guardians of celestial virtue?"
He turned, sweeping the hall with a burning gaze.
"Surely, Heaven would not bestow a text so righteous upon an evil sect! We ought to act now, before deception leads to disaster," Shen Zhenhai said firmly.
Master Lin Zhou of Shifting Tides Sect raised his hand.
"Indeed, Master Shen speaks with divine wisdom," he said smoothly. "Let us act swiftly. If one treasure has fallen to darkness, who knows how many others have been hoarded away in the shadows of Obsidian Peak? Their existence is a stain. Their extinction? A necessity."
Elder Gan Mo of Crimson Rain Sect slammed his fist onto the table. "We should wage war! Leave no stone of that cursed mountain unturned! Mercy to evil is treachery to virtue!"
Others murmured assent, especially those with past vendettas or ambitions cloaked beneath righteousness.
But not all voices joined the rising tide.
A young elder from Serene Jade Valley cleared her throat. "If we go to war with a sect that has remained quiet, some may say we are… bullying. Ganging up to strike down a weaker neighbor under the pretext of justice. It would taint our names."
The hall stilled.
Master Shen smiled, a tight-lipped expression that did not reach his eyes.
"Ah, of course," he said, clearing his throat with a well-timed cough. "We are not tyrants. Heaven forbid! We need not send armies, each sect need only dispatch a few worthy representatives. Together, we shall march to Obsidian Peak and… demand the return of the manual. If they refuse, then…"
He allowed the implication to linger.
"They are no match for our combined virtue. Righteousness shall prevail."
It was then that Elder Yun Haishen stood, folding his fan with a soft snap.
"Master Shen, a question, if I may."
Shen inclined his head warily. "Of course."
"Have we confirmed that Obsidian Peak Sect stole the manual?"
Shen blinked, then waved a hand. "Who else could have done it? The dark energies during the celestial disturbance, it all points to them. The signs are clear."
"Perhaps," Yun mused, "or perhaps we only see what we expect."
"We call ourselves the righteous Alliance," he said coolly, "yet we gather here to possibly annihilate a sect that has, recently, done nothing. Shall we next eliminate those who practice odd arts? Or sects that follow a less luminous doctrine? Where does our justice end and tyranny begin?"
Shen Zhenhai narrowed his eyes. "Do you doubt our cause, brother Yun?"
"I question not our cause," Yun said with a sly smile. "I question our target. And the motivations of some among us."
His gaze lingered on Lin Zhou of Shifting Tides, who merely smiled back, fingers steepled before him.
The debate unfolded like a storm. Some sects, like Iron Bell Monastery and Crimson Rain Sect, were resolute, they considered that "Evil must be eradicated root and stem."
Others, like Serene Jade Valley and Sky Storm Sect, were hesitant, weighing the risk of unjust action.
Abbot Jinhai added quietly, "I have not heard reports of aggression from Obsidian Peak in years. Their disciples do not leave their grounds. They no longer traffic in dark markets. Their leader, Kai Feng, by all accounts… has kept them inwardly focused."
Master Su Qing nodded. "Even rumors from our border watchers speak of a peaceful mountain. It is odd… to punish quiet with fire."
"But that is the trick of darkness!" Shen countered, raising his voice. "To lull the world into slumber before striking! They must be planning something—else why would they remain so quiet? This… this Kai Feng… he is cunning. Far more dangerous than his predecessors because he waits."
A chorus of nods from like-minded elders supported him.
Shen Zhenhai allowed the tension to mount, his silence a calculated tactic. Only when the hall bordered on disorder did he rise once more.
At last, Master Shen stood and raised his hand.
"It is time. Those in favor of enacting Operation Purging Light, raise your hands."
Twelve sects. Twelve votes.
Shen counted the hands. Seven Yes. Five No.
The motion passed.
As sect envoys began to depart, the courtyard felt colder despite the noon sun.
Master Su Qing paused by Yun Haishen. "What will happen now?"
"We shall make our move," Yun said with a sigh. "The game is not over yet… but some moves may lead to checkmate."