Their leader, one of Ieuan‘s own strategists, smirked. “Spare us the pretense, Princess Lorraine… You know exactly whose banner we serve.”
A chill slid through chest. “Ieuan sent you? What is planning?”
The adviser faced Lorraine, his voice as placid as moonlit water. “Mr. Chapman’s design will emerge in time. For now, you must bear a few days of hardship, Princess Lorraine. Once secures the Ritual Manual, you will be free to return.”
With that, departed the cave, escort in tow, the echo of boot-heels fading into the tunnels until only two stern cultivators remained to guard the entrance.
Lorraine sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor. Frigid air seeped through ceremonial gown, yet what truly chilled was uncertainty, an icy, nameless dread that pooled behind ribs and refused to let go.
Ieuan planned this from the start… He abducts me, then demands Father trade the Ritual Manual. That manual details how to strengthen or shatter the demonic soul seal. Could intend to break it?
At the thought, a tremor raced down Lorraine’s spine.
No! I have to warn Father before it’s too late! Outside Celestia, Ieuan rode through the city gates with the remnants of his escort, armor dented, banners torn.
He staggered into Harmony Hall just as Aurelius paced before the throne, waiting for word of the princess. The sight of Ieuan’s blood-spattered cloak made the king’s heart plummet.
“Prime Minister, what happened? Why do you look as though you marched through hell itself?” Aurelius demanded, voice tight.
Ieuan collapsed to his knees with a violent sob. “Your Majesty, forgive me! I failed to protect Princess Lorraine!”
Aurelius lurched to his feet. Blood drained from his face. “What has become of my daughter?”
“When our convoy reached Soulless Valley,” Ieuan choked, “raiders from the Malevolent Path Hall struck without warning. Their power was overwhelming. I fought until the last blade snapped, yet they still seized the princess. Before vanishing, they swore you must hand over the Ritual Manual, or… Or they will kill her!”
“Malevolent Path Hall again!” Aurelius roared, the words clawing at his throat.
His palm slammed the emerald desk. Wood and crystal exploded into powder, shards skittering across marble. Rage shook his shoulders.
“First, they stole the Roaring Storm Bell. Now they dare touch my child! They’re taking this too far!”
“Your Majesty, stay your wrath,” Ieuan urged, still kneeling. “Rescuing the princess is paramount. Since the Malevolent Path Hall craves the manual, let us agree for now. We exchange it, recover Princess Lorraine, then join forces with the Celestial Palace to crush them and avenge her.”
“Absolutely not!” Aurelius’ fist trembled, yet his gaze burned with clarity. “Ritual Manual safeguards the very seal that imprisons the demonic souls. In their hands, the seal will break, and chaos will swallow all of level six. Lorraine is my daughter, my heart, but I am king. I cannot barter the realm’s safety for personal grief!”
“Your Majesty, the princess’s life hangs by a thread!” Ieuan pressed on, hope flickering in his tear-streaked eyes. “Malevolent Path Hall Is ruthless. If we refuse outright, they will harm her. We can feign compliance, set an ambush at the hand-off, reclaim both the princess and the manual, and wipe those brigands from existence in a single stroke.”
Aurelius stood beneath the vaulted ceiling of Harmony Hall, a single furrow carving its way between his brows.
Around him, pillars of white jade glimmered, yet his mind moved in swirling dusk.
If Malevolent Path Hall truly wanted the Ritual Manual, why bother kidnapping Lorraine at all?
Why not slip a shadow into the vault and be done?
The question looped, and with every turn suspicion tightened around Ieuan’s earlier performance. A guard skidded across the floor, armor clattering like hail against stone.
“Your Majesty, a black-robed cultivator waits beyond the gates. He claims to be a courier from Malevolent Path Hall and bears a letter for you!”
Without lifting his gaze, Aurelius rumbled, “Show in!”
The doors swung open. A figure draped in midnight followed a servant into the hall, bowed, and placed a sealed parchment into Aurelius’ waiting hand. Not a single word escaped the messenger’s lips before vanished back into the corridor.
