The imperial throne hall had not truly recovered. The marble walls still bore burn marks from the Dark System's attack, and some corners of the ceiling remained collapsed. The scent of smoke mingled with lingering fear.
For days, the palace remained locked down. Ministers whispered behind closed doors, spreading rumours far beyond the capital walls—tales of gods and demons, of princes wielding light and brothers touched by darkness.
In that silence, I stood before the Emperor once more. Sunlight crept across the torn floor, touching the golden throne like a reluctant blessing.
He looked older now, lines deeper around his eyes, his regal calm cracked by fear he tried to hide. "Mukul Zhao," he said finally, his voice low and strained. "What happened that night was no mortal act."
"No," I said quietly. "It wasn't."
"The ministers say you fought the shadow," he continued. "That you saved my life." His gaze lifted sharply. "But they also say you summoned it."
I didn't flinch. "Would you believe them?"
He didn't answer.
The silence between us grew tight—not just of distance, but of mistrust. For a long time, I had carried anger toward this man who once banished me. Now, I only carry pity.
"I swore to protect this empire," I said. "The creature came for me, not you. There's something older than our throne behind it, something that moves through all worlds. If we don't find its root, it will not stop."
The Emperor's eyes darkened. "And you ask me to trust you to face it? You, whose blood now glows with unnatural light? I saw what you did, my son. You wield the power of gods—but gods never serve man."
I bowed my head slightly, more out of sorrow than respect. "Maybe that's why man must stand between them."
For a moment, his expression flickered—pride, fear, and confusion all tangled together. He gestured toward the sealed throne doors. "The court demands stability. I cannot protect you from their suspicion forever. So I'll give you something else—an order."
"An order?" I breathed.
"You will lead a secret expedition," he said. "Find where this darkness began. The scholars call it the 'Abyss Source,' hidden far to the south beyond the Eternal Desert. The empire's elite will accompany you, under loyal command."
"I see," I said softly. "An order wrapped as exile again."
His jaw tightened. "Think of it as a necessary distance. The Empire must have its peace, even if you are its storm."
Lian Xueyin, who stood beside me, shifted slightly but said nothing.
At last, I nodded. "As you wish, Father. I'll find the truth no matter the cost."
When I left the throne hall, I didn't look back. Some distances, once walked, never close again.
Outside the palace, the capital pulsed with life again—merchants—merchants shouting in markets, bells ringing from the towers—but—but beneath it all ran an undercurrent of fear. The citizens had seen the sky darken anddarken and felt the air twist. Even if they didn't understand, they knew the world had changed.
Lian walked beside me as we passed through the courtyard gardens. The lotus ponds were frozen despite the sunlight. "He doesn't trust you," she said quietly.
"No," I agreed. "He's afraid of me now. The court calls me divine, but the Emperor sees me as a weapon he can't control."
Her eyes softened. "And yet he still sent you into danger."
I smiled faintly. "If he thinks I'll die searching, he's either very desperate or still a little hopeful."
She looked at me sideways. "And you? How do you feel?"
I didn't answer immediately. I stared toward the horizon, where mist curled over the palace walls like tired ghosts. "Like I was never meant to belong here. My blood ties me to a throne, but destiny... it points elsewhere."
Arina's whisper joined us then. "He speaks from fear, not hatred. The darkness inside Zhao Tian grows stronger each day. The Emperor feels that shadow's pull and mistakes it for yours."
"Then I'll prove him wrong," I told her silently.
"Good," she replied. "Because you no longer act for a throne. The Dark System's root lies beyond mortal lands—near—near the ancient boundary where worlds intersect. That is where your next path begins."
Her tone mellowed. "But beware—othersill follow you, not out of faith, but ambition. Some of the 'elite guard' carry orders not to protect you, but to watch you."
I smiled bitterly. "Then we'll find the truth right under the eyes of spies."
That night, the moon rose pale over Fortress Xueyin. The expedition was set to depart at sunrise. I stood outside the southern gate, looking back at the city lights one last time.
The same city that once raised me, then cast me aside, now trusted me to save it from an unseen god.
Lian joined me quietly, her pale robe blending with the snow. "You could stay," she said softly. "Let someone else take this burden."
"I can't," I said. "The mark chose me. Maybe that's unfair, but fairness doesn't exist in destiny."
She smiled sadly. "Then I walk with you. Not as your follower, but as your equal."
I looked at her—really looked this time. Under the moonlight, her frost aura glowed faintly, and for a fleeting moment, I saw through the Eyes of Balance: her warmth beneath the cold, her loyalty bound not by oath but by choice.
"Then let's go," I said. "To the edge of the world, if that's what it takes."
As we turned toward the path south, Arina's voice echoed faintly, like wind over water.
"The darkness stirs in the throne's shadow. The Emperor's fear will soon birth chaos. Every step you take from this city pulls the balance tighter. Be ready, host—for even gods bleed when worlds divide."
The palace bells tolled behind us, fading into the distance.
And as dawn broke, I realised the difference between exile and journey wasn't in distance—it was in purpose.
This time, I wasn't leaving behind my empire. I was walking ahead of it, into the darkness that waited with its answers.