Chapter 22: Shadows Behind the Veil
The moon hung like a pale eye above the Celestial Academy, casting long shadows across its ancient spires. Luo Qingshen stood alone atop the eastern tower, arms folded behind his back, the wind toying with the edges of his robe. Below, the academy seemed at rest, but he knew better. Beneath its stillness, something stirred.
A soft chime echoed through the air, barely audible.
"Student Luo Qingshen, you are summoned," spoke a voice, disembodied and cold. It came from a glowing insignia that had appeared in the air—a communication glyph directly from the Headmaster's Hall.
Without hesitation, Qingshen stepped off the ledge. The wind bent to his will, slowing his descent until his boots touched the stone path below. With calm steps, he made his way through the silent halls.
The Headmaster's Hall was unlike any other place in the academy. It was quiet—not the stillness of peace, but the suffocating quiet of a sealed tomb. Golden script pulsed faintly on the pillars, inscriptions in a language even most scholars feared to speak aloud.
As he entered, the massive doors sealed behind him.
"You came promptly," said a voice.
The Headmaster sat on a high throne, shrouded in flowing robes that shimmered with constellations. His face was veiled, but his presence felt like standing before an eternal storm.
"I go where I am summoned," Qingshen replied calmly.
A low chuckle. "Modest, aren't we? Even after besting an elder."
Qingshen said nothing. The Headmaster leaned forward slightly.
"Who are you really, Luo Qingshen?"
That question lingered.
"A student," Qingshen replied. "One who wishes to live in peace."
"Peace eludes those burdened by the heavens," the Headmaster said. "There are those watching you. Some from beyond the stars. Others... closer than you think."
He waved his hand, and an illusion formed in the air—one of the academy dormitories, specifically Qingshen's wing. A figure cloaked in shadow crept down the hallway.
"We've uncovered a spy."
Qingshen's eyes narrowed. "Whose faction?"
"Unknown," the Headmaster said. "They wear the scent of abyssal mana. Something forbidden."
The illusion shifted. The spy slipped into the library—specifically the restricted archive, where sealed tomes were kept. Another image: the same figure watching Qingshen from the shadows during the trial.
"They're not after you directly," the Headmaster said. "Not yet. But they're probing. Testing."
Qingshen understood. Someone had noticed the ripple he left in the ether. No matter how carefully he hid his divinity, traces remained.
"Do you wish me to eliminate them?" Qingshen asked.
The Headmaster was silent for a long moment.
"No. Not yet. Follow them. Learn who they serve."
He stood slowly, his robes whispering like falling stars.
"And if they learn too much... erase them."
That night, Qingshen returned to his quarters. Nyxria waited within, her form wreathed in a silvery mist. She had sensed the meeting.
"So it begins," she said.
"Yes," Qingshen replied. "But not on my terms."
Nyxria glanced toward the window. "We'll need to move carefully. The spy isn't just watching you. They're siphoning memories from students."
Qingshen's expression darkened. "Mental theft... that's ancient shadowcraft."
She nodded. "Only one faction still uses it. The Vile Concord."
The name twisted the air like a curse. A cabal of mindbenders, soul-thieves, and traitor gods. Erased from history—but not gone.
Qingshen closed his eyes. "Then this academy is no longer neutral ground."
A moment of silence passed between them.
"We'll bait them," he finally said. "And when they come... we'll make sure they never leave."
Far away, in a hidden chamber beneath the academy's northern wing, the spy knelt before a dark mirror.
"He suspects nothing," the spy whispered.
But the mirror pulsed red.
"He always suspects."