The instant Morgal chose to obey, the oppressive weight of the Void Emperor's presence dissipated. Raiking relinquished his hold, restoring the Void's Will to her and releasing the chains that had bound the ancient terror to the ground, as though she were a mere insect.
"Th-thank you," Morgal gasped, clutching her chest as she tried to regain her composure. The abrupt and forceful return to her former self left her shaking in her oversized robes.
"Do not thank me yet, Void Being," Raiking stated, his voice lacking any warmth.
He lifted his left hand, revealing four distinct, glowing projections. The faces of the four Chieftains—Neihina, Venae, Ellomon, and Ragina—hovered in the darkness.
"Those who wish to exist in my world, must first serve a purpose," Raiking declared.
Morgal gazed upward, her crimson eyes reflecting the glowing faces. "What do you wish for me to do?"
"These four must fall."
With a flick of his wrist, the projections glided from Raiking's palm and shot directly into Morgal's forehead.
She gasped as the information overwhelmed her mind. She didn't just see their faces; she was infused with the precise details necessary for a flawless assassination. Their cultivation stages, their elemental affinities, their combat habits, their personalities, and the layout of their respective peaks. It was a masterclass in deadly intelligence.
Her mind immediately began calculating the variables.
"What of the Elders?" Morgal inquired, identifying the minor complication. The intelligence indicated that the Elders maintained close ties with the Chieftains but were also fiercely protective of Libinea—the very Phoenix Queen who traveled with this terrifying man.
"No harm is to come to them," Raiking instructed flatly.
"And the surrounding casualties?"
"Keep them to an absolute minimum."
Morgal nodded slowly, winding the soul-strings of her Void Guardians around her pale fingers. "Understood. But... when the task is complete, and Grandmaster Vex questions me about why I am delivering the heads of four bird-kings instead of yours... what shall I say?"
Raiking looked down at her. His void-black eyes were completely lifeless, betraying no emotion whatsoever.
"Do not concern yourself with the Silent Blade Clan," Raiking said smoothly. "For they shall not exist by sunrise."
Morgal's heart froze.
The air in her lungs turned to ice. No one had ever dared to attack the Silent Blade Clan. Not only was the Demon King himself backing the organization, but every major faction on the continent—the Human Empire, the Divine Realm, and even the Skyward Region—relied on their services.
Furthermore, the Clan was the primary hub Morgal used to harvest souls for her cultivation. If they were eradicated, where would she legally feed?
Though she did not dare voice her self-serving complaints aloud, her sheer disbelief emboldened her to ask the question.
"To what end does their destruction serve you?" Morgal whispered, expecting a grand tale of ancient vengeance or a strategic maneuver to conquer the northern territories.
"They nearly made Faye cry. Is that not reason enough to warrant their annihilation?"
Faye?
Morgal's crimson eyes darted to Ezmelral, who had just spoken.Who is Faye? How could one person's momentary distress justify the complete and total erasure of the continent's most feared assassin clan?
In that moment of contemplation, a chilling realization washed over the ancient Void Being. These entities were infinitely more dangerous than she had anticipated. The Silent Blade Clan hadn't just kicked a hornet's nest; they had failed to recognize Mount Tai, and now the mountain was collapsing upon them.
Morgal swallowed hard, bowing her head deeply. "Then... I will do exactly as you have instructed, Lord."
Raiking and Ezmelral didn't respond.
WHOOSH.
They simply vanished into the shadows. They did not teleport in the direction of the Azure Phoenix Tribe. Instead, they shot in the exact opposite direction, tearing through the sky toward the Northern Demon Region to erase a legend from the map.
Morgal stood alone on the cliffside. She looked down at the festival lights of the Phoenix Tribe, a twisted, terrified smile spreading across her face.
"Well, my little fishes," Morgal giggled to the Void Guardians behind her. "It seems we have four new playmates."
---
[Location - Azure Phoenix Tribe, Queen's Shrine]
Following the disheartening failure of her reform initiatives in the Main Hall, Libinea withdrew to her private quarters. She expected to find Raiking and Ezmelral there, but instead encountered the gentle hum of a high-tier protective aura surrounding a makeshift crib.
Inside, Faye slept peacefully.
The infant's tranquil slumber starkly contrasted with the turmoil of emotions raging within Libinea.
"Enjoy your youth, little one," Libinea murmured, her voice heavy with a sigh as she approached the barrier. She looked down at the child, her mind racing with thoughts of her dwindling options.
Before she could decide on a course of action, the doors opened. Elder Wenya entered, her face etched with deep lines of age, and moved to the low wooden table where Libinea eventually sat.
"How are you feeling?" Wenya inquired softly, settling into the seat beside her.
"You know," Libinea began, "back in the Guild, there weren't any council meetings. No endless debates about the Sect's future. We just trusted Raiking, and he guided us to the next marvel."
Wenya noted the faraway, wistful look in the Queen's golden eyes—a look of deep-seated homesickness. It tugged at Wenya's heartstrings. This shrine, these peaks... they were meant to be Libinea's home.
"Don't let one bad experience steal a lifetime of happiness from you, Libinea," Wenya gently advised.
"Don't worry, Auntie. I know they meant no harm."
"That's a relief," Wenya sighed softly. "They've endured so much. It will take time to win them over."
"I don't think they want to be won over," Libinea replied, her tone devoid of anger, leaving only a sense of cold resignation. "In fact, I doubt they even believe life beyond this mountain is possible anymore."
"They've just become too used to their confinement," Wenya said, placing a warm, wrinkled hand on Libinea's. "But on my way here tonight, I saw a flicker of hope in their eyes. Thanks to you, Libinea. That's why they need you to—"
Libinea gently but firmly withdrew her hand.
"I've already made up my mind," Libinea declared. She stood and walked a few steps from the table, halting with her back to the Elder. "I'm leaving."
"Is there truly nothing I can say or do to change your mind?"
Libinea remained silent.
The silence was heartbreaking. For Wenya, it was also a death sentence. If Libinea decided to leave, the catastrophic disaster Raiking had foreseen at the border would not be averted. The Void would consume them all.
"He told me he is the God of Death."
Wenya's voice pierced the silence of the room, a final, urgent attempt to sway the Queen's resolve and prevent the looming catastrophe. "Are you absolutely certain this is the kind of man you desire to be with?"
Libinea turned her gaze to the Elder.
"Did you know... the night before we departed the Guild, Raiking and I talked about how the Tribe might perceive me," Libinea began, her tone steady and composed. "They would likely request me to remain. I asked him if he was truly sure he wanted me to return to the mountain, aware there was a possibility I might not come back with him. Do you know what his response was?"
Wenya had her own thoughts but hesitated to express them. Her knowledge of the God of Death was purely derived from ancient texts and intimidating legends. Yet, the profound warmth in Libinea's demeanor when she spoke of him hinted that there was more to the man than the merciless, calculating figure Wenya had encountered in the Main Hall.
"His exact words were, 'I would still be willing to go with you,'" Libinea whispered, her golden eyes alight with unwavering conviction. "So, I do not concern myself with who he was. I do not concern myself with how stained his hands are. What matters to me is the man on that stargazing tower that night, who was ready to prioritize my happiness over his own desires."
Wenya not only listened to those words but also observed the absolute, unyielding certainty in the Queen's eyes. A dark, unsettling thought began to take root in her mind, rendering her speechless.
A thousand years can indeed alter a person.
Libinea had spent a millennium fighting alongside that monster. If Wenya were to reveal Raiking's brutal plan to subjugate the Chieftains through slaughter, would the Queen even denounce it? Or would the woman, shaped in the shadows of the Void Emperor, simply concur that the village needed to endure suffering to learn?