Emperor of the Source

The bridge through which Adrian and Hestia had left Avaris's inner region was no longer accepting passage.

They stopped before the sealed boundary. Their altered appearances and mana signatures had survived every formation they had crossed, but the powers that would let either of them force entry had the possibility of revealing their true identity. Using Crimson Genesis would identify them as disciples from the Crimson Vital Sect. Equally, Adrian had to be careful using any power the universe might connect to Aeon or the Origin Sect, since leaving the Origin Sect's trials anywhere the Crimson Vital Sect was entangled was not something he was willing to risk.

After examining the formation for a moment, Adrian settled upon the safest option available.

The Prime Arcane Concept of Severance carried the least possibility of exposing him. Powerful as the concept was, Severance remained an Prime Arcane Concept rather than an inheritance uniquely tied to Adrian, and nothing prevented another cultivator somewhere in the universe from possessing the same conceptual path.

Adrian raised two fingers. A hair-thin silver-white edge condensed between them, so narrow that the surrounding merchants and panicked clan members would have struggled to notice anything had they not been looking directly at his hand. Adrian aimed the edge toward the outer barrier and released the smallest application necessary.

The moment the Severance essence touched the barrier, the relationship connecting one narrow section of the barrier to the greater defensive array disappeared instantly.

A gap opened.

Hestia crossed before the formation could react, and Adrian followed directly behind her. The disconnected lines began stretching toward one another almost as soon as they passed through, attempting to restore the severed relationship, and by the time both entered the inner district, the opening had already sealed itself as though nothing had disturbed it.

Hestia and Adrian accelerated toward the seven crimson-gold domains colliding above the governing district. As the distance narrowed, the situation became increasingly clear. Six cultivators surrounded one isolated figure whose domain had already begun trembling under the accumulated pressure of their attacks.

Hestia recognized their status from the pale-gold markings across their deep-red robes. Every cultivator involved belonged to the Solvaren governing council, and the man directing several of the surrounding attacks was unmistakably the current Clan Leader. The solitary cultivator trapped at the center wore the same governing markings, making it equally clear that this was not a rebellion by some ordinary clan member who had somehow forced his way into the restricted district.

One of their own governing elders was fighting the rest of the council.

The six surrounding cultivators rotated their attacks with practiced coordination. One domain thickened the air around the isolated elder until every movement required greater force, while another transformed the surrounding crimson-gold radiance into tightening bands that wrapped around his limbs and compressed the boundaries of his domain. A third elder continually released narrow streams of dissolving essence through whatever openings appeared in his defense, forcing him to consume mana faster than his body could recover it. Whenever he shattered one restraint, two others attacked from different directions before he could stabilize the trembling authority surrounding him.

Before the surrounding elders could inflict another serious wound, Hestia released the pressure of her consciousness. The invisible force descended across the battlefield.

Four of the weaker governing elders faltered immediately. Their prepared spells lost cohesion, the crimson-gold bands constricting their opponent loosened, and several attacks collapsed before completing their structures.

The Clan Leader and the senior commission elder managed to remain upright, but both turned sharply toward Hestia as their own attacks came to an abrupt halt. Shock crossed the senior commission elder's face as he recognized the buyer who had left the Guest Contract Pavilion only minutes earlier.

Hestia crossed the remaining distance and positioned herself between the six elders and their injured opponent. She did not summon Crimson Genesis or draw either of her bladed cloths. The pressure of her consciousness remained below the level required to cause actual injury, yet she spread it broadly enough that none of the seven cultivators could resume fighting without her noticing immediately.

Even restrained to that degree, the difference in cultivation was impossible to conceal. Every elder present understood that they were standing before an Astral sovereign.

"Senior, please do not interfere with the internal matters of our clan," the Clan Leader said, forcing himself to remain steady beneath Hestia's pressure.

He clearly believed that some powerful wandering cultivator had entered the conflict for reasons he did not understand. "The man behind you assassinated Imperial Commissioner Deyran and refused to surrender for imperial judgment," the Clan Leader continued. "The governing council was attempting to capture him alive."

Hestia glanced toward the grey-haired elder behind her. Narev stared back through obvious pain and exhaustion. His robes had been torn in several places, blood darkened one side of his body, and his domain flickered around him as though one more sustained assault might have broken it entirely. Yet Hestia found neither the panic of a man who had suddenly lost himself nor the satisfaction of someone who believed his purpose had already been fulfilled.

Whatever had driven him to assassinate an imperial commissioner seemed to contain something more than personal vengeance.

The sight clarified what Hestia had only begun realizing beside the river. The senior commission elder's words had never represented every person within the Solvaren Clan. There were descendants behind the boundary who did not regard Ebon Meridian's covenant as protection, and at least one of the clan's governing elders had rejected those chains strongly enough to turn upon the Empire itself.

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Before Hestia could speak, Nerath's atmospheric formation trembled.

The disturbance originated far above Avaris, beyond the upper atmosphere. Hestia's perception crossed the intervening distance and immediately found multiple vessels emerging around the planet. Long imperial ships took positions throughout the nearest orbital lanes, their black-red hulls carrying the insignia of Keldovan enforcement divisions. Behind them appeared a larger dark-gold vessel bearing the unmistakable crest of the Ebon Meridian Sect.

The Rule Stage elders sensed the arrivals a moment later. Their domains wavered as their attention turned upward, and the Clan Leader's face lost what little color remained within it.

A dark-gold line descended through the atmospheric formation. It passed through every defensive layer without resistance and ended above the damaged governing hall, where a tall figure materialized in robes bearing Ebon Meridian's crest. The insignia across his shoulder identified him as an enforcement elder of the sect stationed within Keldovan territory.

His features were narrow and severe, and the weight surrounding his consciousness identified him as Astral before he released a trace of mana. Its pressure carried a second warning: he had crossed the first stage of consciousness mastery and awakened his Chime.

The Ebon Meridian elder surveyed the battlefield in silence. His gaze passed across the seven Solvaren domains, lingered upon the wounded Narev, and then stopped upon Hestia standing between the opposing sides. He studied her for several seconds before glancing once toward Adrian, apparently dismissing him as nothing more than the Rule Stage companion of the unknown Astral cultivator.

"So, after learning what your former patriarch accomplished, the Solvaren Clan has finally decided to rebel?" the enforcement elder asked. His gaze returned to Hestia. "And who exactly are you?"

The Clan Leader floated forward before Hestia could answer. His domain had already contracted close around his body, and he lowered his head toward the Ebon Meridian elder in formal submission.

"Senior, the Solvaren Clan has not rebelled," he said quickly. "Narev acted alone. The governing council rejected his actions and was attempting to capture him alive when this wandering cultivator intervened. You may examine the records and take Narev for imperial judgment."

The Ebon elder regarded him for a moment without any visible sympathy. "Innocence is considered after submission. Disperse every domain. All seven of you will seal your Rule Cores and submit to inspection until the complete records have been recovered."

The Clan Leader opened his mouth. "But, Senior, sealing the entire council is not fair and would leave the city—"

Before he could complete his words, the Ebon elder appeared before him and drove a palm into the center of his chest. The blow hurled the Clan Leader downward with enough force to send his body through the already shattered roof of the governing hall, scattering broken stone and formation fragments across the chamber beneath them.

"Your duty is to follow my orders," the enforcement elder shouted. "You dare argue against them?"

He moved after the falling Clan Leader, raising one hand for a second strike.

Hestia crossed between them as her consciousness descended upon the Ebon elder's mind before his palm could complete its motion. The strike stopped less than an arm's length from Hestia's face as the man arrested his own movement, his concentration disrupted for a fraction of a moment by the unexpected pressure rather than by any physical barrier.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her again. "This territory stands beneath our sect's authority, and a wandering cultivator like you dares interfere with us?"

The Ebon elder released his consciousness and willforce pressure in a single invisible wave.

The surrounding Solvaren elders recoiled immediately. Coherent thought became difficult beneath the weight, forcing their domains to contract violently toward their bodies. Two of the weaker elders lost control of their flight and dropped onto separate furnace towers below, while Narev fell to one knee in midair and caught himself against the remnants of his dissolving domain before he could descend farther.

Hestia could not see the willforce pressing against her. That perception belonged to those who had awakened the Chime, but she felt its intent as clearly as the edge of a blade resting against her consciousness.

The Ebon elder gathered and redirected the pressure with a precision Hestia had never formally learned. Every portion of his will moved with practiced structure, narrowing upon her rather than dispersing uselessly throughout the surrounding region.

Yet Hestia remained where she was. The memories that had followed her across more than a million years no longer rose as separate wounds pulling her toward conflicting answers. Her sister's hand disappearing within a corrosive cloud, the followers buried along the road, the descendants who had survived upon Nerath, and the countless people waiting beneath Crimson Vital's protection had finally become parts of the same history rather than competing obligations.

She had already refused to purchase Andromeda's freedom with Nerath's lives or Nerath's safety with Andromeda's submission. That resolve had already begun settling within her beside the river, and now seeing Narev, descendants who still saw the structure surrounding them as a cage, and were willing to fight against it even after generations had taught everyone around them to accept its existence, increased the weight of her resolve.

Her conviction deepened, and her Willforce condensed around that resolve. It lacked the Ebon elder's refinement and possessed no formal structure, but it became denser with every passing moment.

The Ebon elder's eyes narrowed. His pressure continued to deepen, spreading through the inner region until the clan members lost control of their minds and thousands of cultivators froze beneath a weight they could not identify.

Several paces behind Hestia, Adrian observed the contest without interfering.

His Anchor-stage consciousness perceived what neither Hestia nor the Ebon elder could fully see from within their own confrontation. Hestia's intent was no longer diffused through grief, guilt, protection, anger, and responsibility as separate currents. All of it was gathering into one increasingly dense direction, far stronger than the conviction Adrian had sensed from her only minutes earlier upon the open terrace.

That conviction was strengthening her willforce with it.

Despite having never awakened the chime, Hestia was standing beneath the direct willforce pressure of a Chime-stage Astral cultivator without yielding.

Adrian's lips curved into a small smile as understanding settled within him. "She has taken a step forward."

The Ebon elder raised one hand, and the weight of his Astral consciousness began narrowing into the unfinished structure of a willforce technique.

Adrian's expression changed. He floated forward and prepared to cross the distance between them before the willforce technique could finish taking shape.

"Stay where you are," Hestia said without looking back. Her voice remained steady despite the invisible weight pressing against her consciousness. "I will handle this."

Adrian stopped. For a moment he regarded Hestia's words, recognizing everything contained within them. She knew he was there. She knew exactly what he could do, and she knew that if the contest genuinely endangered her, the Astral elder before them would not survive long enough to understand what had happened.

She was not refusing Adrian's help because she had forgotten his strength. She was asking him not to use it because this confrontation belonged to her.

"Oh?" Adrian replied, allowing himself to drift backward instead of advancing. His smile returned as he settled comfortably behind her. "As you wish."