Halfway to my quarters, the palace's jade corridors stretched endlessly, their polished surfaces reflecting torchlight in a dance of amber and shadow. The air was thick with the scent of lotus blossoms, a cruel contrast to the hostility that clung to every corner of the Phoenix Sect. My footsteps echoed, each one a reminder of the duel I'd barely survived, my body still aching from the strain of Dance of Embers and the black flame that had shattered Huo's amulet. The crowd's jeers lingered in my mind, their hatred a weight heavier than the arena's sand.
An old man blocked my path, his presence a sudden storm that halted my thoughts. His robes, crimson and black, were embroidered with golden phoenixes, their wings seeming to flicker in the torchlight. His power radiated, a barely restrained fury that pressed against my senses like a gathering tempest, making the air itself quiver. His eyes, sharp as a hawk's, bore into me, and his spiritual pressure was a vice, threatening to crush my fragile Qi Condensation cultivation. Before I could react, Cho and Sho stepped forward, their own auras flaring, no less formidable, twin beacons of defiance in the dim corridor. The air crackled, spiritual energies clashing silently, a standoff that could ignite at any moment.
"Out of my way! I'll crush this brat myself!" the elder roared, his voice a thunderclap that shook the jade walls, sending a faint tremor through the floor. His hands twitched, as if itching to unleash a technique that would reduce me to ash.
"We have orders from the Clan Leader," Cho and Sho replied in unison, their voices calm but unyielding, their stances relaxed yet ready. Their auras pulsed, a harmonious blend of fire and shadow, a warning to the elder that they were no mere escorts.
The elder's jaw clenched, his face twisting into a snarl. The oppressive weight of his spiritual pressure intensified, a storm of energy that made my knees tremble and my breath catch. The corridor seemed to shrink, the walls closing in as his power bore down, a force that could shatter mountains. I stood my ground, refusing to cower, though every instinct screamed to flee.
"Speak, worm! What trick did you use?" he snarled, his voice dripping venom, each word a lash. "Our clan's amulet couldn't have been shattered by a weakling like you!"
"That's what bothers you?" I smirked, meeting his glare, my voice steady despite the pressure. "Not Huo's death, but how I broke your precious trinket?" The words were reckless, but I was done with their games, their endless demands for my submission.
"You insolent cur…" He spat on the pristine palace floor, the act a deliberate insult, his saliva gleaming against the jade like a mark of his contempt. "I should've strangled you as a child when I had the chance!" With that, he stormed off, his robes billowing like a dark cloud, his footsteps fading into the corridor's depths.
Rage surged within me, a fire hotter than the black flame I'd wielded. Enough! All I wanted was to cultivate in peace, to grow stronger, to explore this strange, vibrant world of Qi and sects. But everyone demanded something—my blood, my submission, my life. Was Dance of Embers worth this, Kai? The technique had saved me, yes, but at what cost? A quiet realization stirred deep within, cold and bitter: the technique was just an excuse. It gave them permission to drop their masks, to reveal the hatred they'd always harbored. Another epiphany, and I sighed heavily, the weight of it settling in my bones.
The corridor stretched on, its silence oppressive now, broken only by the faint rustle of the twins' robes as they flanked me. The palace was a labyrinth of beauty and danger, its jade walls carved with phoenixes that seemed to watch, their eyes glinting in the torchlight. Every step toward my quarters felt like a march to judgment, the sect's disdain a shadow that followed me. I wondered what awaited me—more enemies, more traps? The twins' presence was both a shield and a chain, their loyalty to Cao Shen a reminder of my precarious place in this world.
When we reached my quarters, the door slid open to reveal a stark change. The room, once adorned with silken tapestries and intricate furniture, was now barren, its elegance stripped away. My clothes, once vibrant with the sect's red and black, were gone, replaced by a single set of plain red-and-white hanfu folded on the cot. The silk had been swapped for coarse cotton, rough against my fingers as I lifted it, the fabric a silent declaration of my fall.
"You're no longer part of the Phoenix Sect," Cho explained, her voice devoid of emotion, her eyes fixed on the wall. "You cannot wear their colors."
Noted—the sect had a patent on red and black, a claim as petty as it was absolute. I ran my fingers over the hanfu, its simplicity a stark contrast to the opulence I'd once known. The room felt smaller, its bare walls closing in, the air heavy with the scent of dust and abandonment. I changed into the new clothes, the cotton scratching my skin, a constant reminder of my exile. The twins watched in silence, their faces unreadable, their auras a steady hum that filled the space.
I sat on the cot, the wood creaking under my weight, and let my thoughts wander. The elder's words echoed—I should've strangled you as a child. What had I done to earn such hatred, not just from him but from the entire sect? Was it my existence, my blood, or something deeper, a secret buried in the clan's history? The questions gnawed at me, each one a thorn in my mind, but answers were as distant as the stars outside the palace's high windows.
Hours passed, the night deepening, the palace growing quieter. I tried to cultivate, drawing on Song of Pure Flame to replenish my Qi, but the room's spiritual energy was thin, a faint trickle compared to the Pagoda's hum. My body ached, the duel's toll lingering, and my mind was a storm of doubts and defiance. I wanted to be free, to carve my own path, but the sect's chains were tight, their will unyielding.
When the twins roused me in the dead of night, their silhouettes stark against the moonlight spilling through the window, I thought they were marching me to my execution. Their silence was deafening, their faces carved from stone as they gestured for me to follow. The palace was a maze of shadows, its corridors colder now, the jade walls glinting like ice. I tested escape, my muscles tensing, but they moved at a speed my eyes couldn't follow, a blade of conjured flame pressing against my throat, its heat a warning that burned without touching. I froze, heart pounding, and followed, each step heavy with dread.
What awaited me in the darkness, and why did the sect's hatred run so deep?