The crackle of obsidian was the only warning.
A sound, like that of dry bones snapping, silenced the choked groans in the secret chamber. Elder Fei, kneeling on the cold stone floor, trembled violently, his forehead pressed to the dust. Behind him, his four elite disciples held their breath, the pain of their wounds forgotten in the face of a much greater terror.
The surface of the black mirror swirled with a dark mist. The voice came, not from the room, but from within their minds: cold, emotionless, and utterly dominant.
"Fei."
The Elder did not dare to look up. "Sect Master," he whispered, his voice a hoarse croak.
"You have failed," the voice stated. It was not a question.
"I... yes, Illustrious Master. We have failed," Fei admitted, each word a shard of glass in his throat.
A long, heavy silence emanated from the mirror. It was not an empty silence; it was a silence that judged, that weighed his worth and found it wanting.
"The Decree," the voice finally said. "Where is it?"
"It was... it was acquired by another, Master. A merchant."
"A merchant," the voice repeated, and Fei could feel the icy contempt in that simple phrase. "A mortal with a bag of gold has bested you—an Elder of the Red Lotus Sect. Explain yourself. And omit no detail. Start with the auction."
Fei swallowed, cold sweat running down his back. "The starting price was one million. The bidding was... fierce. The True Jade Temple and the Purple Cloud Pavilion fought bravely."
"I am not interested in the worms that fought. I am interested in the snake that bit you," the voice interrupted. "The merchant. Describe his bidding."
"It was... a mockery, Master," Fei stammered, the humiliation burning anew on his face. "He waited until the very end. When I had secured victory with a bid of six million, he... he offered one more gold coin."
"One gold coin," the voice repeated, and this time, Fei thought he detected a hint of... interest? "An act of youthful arrogance?"
"I thought so at first, Master. I believed he was some young master from a wealthy clan trying to make a name for himself. I responded with force. I raised the bid by six hundred thousand."
"An emotional and foolish move. He continued his one-coin game, I presume."
"Yes, Master. Several times. I... I was blinded by rage. The sect's honor was at stake."
"The sect's honor does not lie in a bidding war; it lies in the mission's success," the voice pronounced. "You reached ten million. An insane figure. And he withdrew, allowing you to win at a ruinous price. Is that correct?"
"Not exactly, Master," Fei whispered, the shame making him feel small. "When I bid the ten million, he withdrew... and I... I also withdrew. The humiliation... I could not bear victory on those terms."
He could feel his master's disappointment like a physical pressure, crushing him to the floor.
"So, to summarize," the voice said slowly, each word a hammer blow, "not only did you let yourself be provoked by a mere merchant, but you entered a war of ego you could not afford, and finally, you handed him the Decree for a sum lower than what you yourself were willing to pay. You have proven to be impulsive, emotionally fragile, and a terrible negotiator. A failure in three acts. Is that the sum of your report?"
"N-no, Master," Fei stuttered, panic seizing him. "There is more. We followed the merchant, as you ordered."
"Ah, yes. The ambush. Your chance to redeem your incompetence with brute force. Continue. I assume, given the state of your disciples and your current prostration, that this report does not improve."
Fei took a deep breath, but the cold air of the chamber offered no relief. "We isolated them in an alley. We used the Silent Mirage Veil."
"A mid-tier sealing artifact. Effective against cultivators of the Soul Palace Realm. And?"
"The merchant... he did not act. But his companion, the masked woman..."
"His bodyguard," the voice cut in. "A hired cultivator? What was her level?"
"We believed she was in the Soul Palace Realm, like us. I was mistaken. Terribly mistaken."
"Stop stammering, Fei. Describe the battle."
"My disciples attacked first. All four of them. Huo with his Magma Fists, Lei with his Fire Whip... a coordinated assault that would have overwhelmed any cultivator of their level."
"And?"
"And she danced," Fei whispered, the memory still vivid in his mind. "She did not fight. She danced. A whirlwind of wind and void surrounded her, invisible blades that deflected flames and shattered rock. It was... like trying to catch a storm in your hands."
"A Wind Decree," the voice commented with disdain. "Common."
"No, Master. It was not common. There was... a calm at the center of the storm. An unnatural serenity. She didn't attack wildly; she used their own strength against them. She deflected Lei's whip to strike Shi. She used the whirlwind to lift Huo from the ground and riddle him with cuts. She dismantled them. Methodically. Like a scholar dismantling a book. In less time than it takes to recite a sutra, your four elite disciples were on the ground, defeated."
The silence returned. Fei dared to glance up at the swirling mirror.
"And you, Elder Fei. What did you do while your pack of wolves was being flayed by a sparrow?"
"I attacked with my full power," Fei said, his voice gaining a sliver of strength as he recalled his own power. "I manifested the Heart of the Burning Lotus. A Sovereign-grade explosion in a confined space. It should have incinerated her! There was no escape!"
"And yet, here you are, kneeling and trembling. So I assume it did not work."
"She... she didn't try to block it," Fei said, his voice filled with a disbelief he still couldn't process. "She simply... stepped aside. She moved with a speed that shouldn't be possible. The instant my Decree detonated, she was no longer there. She was beside me. Beside me, Master. And before I could react, she touched me. It wasn't a strike. It was... a touch. And my Qi... vanished."
"She sealed your meridians with a touch," the voice concluded. "A pressure point control technique. Precise. Efficient. Humiliating. And yet, she left you alive."
"Yes, Master."
The silence stretched on again. Fei felt a cold sweat run down the back of his neck. The next question was the one he feared most.
"And the merchant," the voice asked, returning to the point that seemed to intrigue it most. "The man for whom she, this fighting prodigy, risked her life. Describe his actions during this life-or-death confrontation."
Fei swallowed, the lump in his throat nearly choking him. "Nothing, Master. Absolutely nothing."
"...Nothing."
"He just stood there," Fei explained, his voice a terrified whisper. "Leaning against a wall, holding the Decree we had just lost. And he watched us. He watched my disciples be wounded, watched his bodyguard fight, watched my ultimate attack... as if he were watching a dull street play. As if our battle, our power, our desperation... were mere entertainment for him."
A new kind of silence emanated from the mirror. It was not of disappointment. It was not of anger. It was a silence laden with a sudden, terrible understanding. A silence that held fear.
"Useless," the voice finally hissed, but this time, the insult did not seem aimed at Fei. "Incompetent. Idiot."
The Sect Master's voice, for the first time, lost its calm. A sharp, venomous hint of panic seeped through the artifact.
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE WOMAN! I DON'T CARE ABOUT HER UNKNOWN DECREE! SHE IS NOT THE PROBLEM!"
Fei flinched, confused.
"Fei," the voice continued, now a cold, conspiratorial whisper that seemed to crawl across the chamber floor, "the Twin Souls Fusion Decree... do you truly believe our Red Lotus Sect, a sect of fire and combat, has the need or the resources to bid ten million for a dual cultivation manual? We are warriors, not lovers! We were mere intermediaries, you fool!"
The truth, cold and terrifying, finally struck Fei. They were pawns.
"'The Patron' entrusted this task to us," the Sect Master hissed, and the way he uttered the title was filled with a reverence and terror Fei had never heard before. "He provided the funds. He promised us his favor, his protection, and resources you cannot even begin to imagine, if we procured that Decree for him. It was a simple test. A minor task to prove our usefulness and competence."
The voice grew thinner, sharper, weighted with imminent catastrophe. "And you have not only failed! You have lost the Decree and a fortune! But you have revealed our intent and been effortlessly defeated by the bodyguard of an unknown merchant who finds it amusing to watch Soul Palace Realm cultivators fight for their lives! You have drawn attention to us! You have placed a beacon on our operation! You have failed in the most spectacular and loudest way possible!"
"Master... please..." Fei moaned.
"Pray, Fei," the voice whispered, now resigned and filled with a terrifying finality. "Pray to the ancestors of the Burning Lotus. Pray that 'The Patron's' displeasure falls on you alone. Because if he decides our entire sect is... incompetent... not even the ashes of our sacred mountain will remain to tell the tale."
The connection severed. The black mist in the mirror vanished, leaving only the dark reflection of five broken men, kneeling in a silent, cold room.
Elder Fei remained there, trembling uncontrollably. The pain of his wounds was a distant memory. The humiliation of defeat, a trivial concern. His fear of the merchant and the mysterious, terrifying bodyguard had evaporated.
It had all been replaced by a pure, absolute, and existential terror for a name, for a shadow, for an enemy he had never even met, but whose wrath, he now knew with a soul-chilling certainty, would be the true and final hell.