Chapter 1229: Flames and Foundries
The intense friction between fire and ice generated a deep groan. It joined the gathering storm, and the clamor could be mistaken for the roars of the ancient masters who'd become part of the lamentable tapestry of the Imperial Graveyard. Iz paid it no heed as she observed the expanding spatial cracks and the frigid chill pouring out of them.
Kaltosa Lu had displayed a surprising ability to rally the forces of the ancient battlefield, infusing the resentment with purpose and Dao. The disarray had been tricked into compliance, and the flimsy dimensional barriers had been bolstered by pervasive cold. Nevertheless, hours of dogged pursuit were about to bear fruit.
The poisonous chill couldn't withstand the enshrined flames of the Vermillion Song, the Fire-attuned Cosmic Vessel prepared for the mission. The final blockade was about to collapse, and the Centigrade Elemental's cumbersome Foundry Vessel couldn't hope to match her ship in raw speed.
"I'll test their fate myself," Iz said as she prepared the fiery sigils to teleport her into range.
"The followers of the Empyrean Throne move as one," Salou rejected. "A test of fate goes both ways."
Iz briefly closed her eyes before nodding. She had decided to target the Lu Clan, so she would have to see it through. Even if that meant seeing her subordinates fall. Understanding didn't alleviate the discomfort. Years of mock practice had done little to prepare her for the burden of command when the stakes became real, despite Iz having discovered this shortcoming long ago.
She remained quiet, unable to vocalize the simple orders as the spatial cracks grew larger. The silent presence of subordinates behind her felt different this time. She'd led this group through tribulations before, but those were training excursions arranged by her family.
They had already proven themselves fated by rising above, claiming their place after fierce competition. If they fell now, it would be her commands and choices that caused it. And yet, there was nothing but flickering flames and burning conviction in their eyes as they silently waited for the orders that she struggled to issue.
Her actions represented the will of the Empyrean Throne, and the ripples would spread to every corner of the Multiverse. Was she doing the right thing? For the right reasons? Or was she still walking a dream, treating the lives of others like fleeting dreams?