The Vastness of Magical Destiny

The room was void of any light, and the purplish-black velvet curtains tightly covered the window lattices, concealing the room completely. The smooth fallen angel statue hung suspended in the center of the room, with threads passing through the feathers beneath its ribs, giving it the appearance of being real. The face of the angel was filled with expressions of struggle, pain, and bewilderment as if being burned in purgatory. Yet, the faint golden hue in those eyes seemed to speak of pursuit and longing. What was the meaning behind it, and who could truly understand?

Sitting silently behind the large desk, Komer’s legs crossed and rested on the cabinet beneath the table. The room was completely silent, devoid of any sound as if everything was in a deep slumber. Only Komer’s dark, lustrous eyes flickered in the room, casting unpredictable glimpses of strange light.

With a gentle release, the jade bead in his hand described a parabola as it glided through the air, lightly flying around the room. After several spins, it finally struck the upright toe of the fallen angel statue hanging in the center of the room. The crisp impact produced an echo that resonated faintly around the room, as if waiting for something. Komer caught the jade bead that returned to flight, his gaze thoughtful as he turned his attention back to his hand.

"Impressive skill. The Dark Lord’s mastery of the Sky Soaring Control Technique has reached perfection. I didn’t expect that aside from his surprising and delightful magic ability, even his martial skills have reached the martial arts stage and are probing the gates of Martial Dao. Perhaps the barrier between magic and martial arts might indeed see a groundbreaking breakthrough at the Dark Lord’s hands."

The initially vague voice gradually became clear, its complimentary words delivered in a remarkably flat tone, revealing no sure indication of whether the sentiments expressed were sincere.

"Enough, Xerob, the Great Dark Envoy. I’d advise you to use the title ’Dark Lord’ sparingly, or better yet, not at all in reference to me. I have already declared that I have absolutely no connection with your so-called Dark Lord." Komer knew that every conversation inevitably circled back to this issue, which would be entangled for quite some time before it would rest.

"Dark Lord, are you truly not reconsidering our proposal?" The low voice seemed to emanate from deep underground. It was at this moment you would realize a man cloaked entirely in black monk’s attire standing in the corner’s shadow—if not for his eyes, his figure would be difficult to discern.

"Great Dark Envoy Xerob, haven’t I told you before? I may not be a devout follower of the Church of Light, but I am likewise not a devotee of your Great Mysterium Sect, nor am I this so-called Dark Lord. Please refrain from addressing me with that inexplicable title, it brings me many unanticipated troubles."