The ship glided across the skies of the fog-covered city, dim yet powerful lights glinting from below, illuminating the landscape as far as the eye could see. Tunde marveled at the city built between four large mountains, each seemingly teeming with life, judging by the bright lights emanating from within them.

  The sect itself radiated power. Sky vessels flew past them, emblazoned with the sect’s symbol—a white flame on a black background. All around, Tunde could feel the heavy presence of ash and the energy it exuded in the air, strangely enough not clogging or choking them.

  The silence that hung in the air, combined with the already chilly weather, heightened Tunde’s awareness. The rest of his team slowly moved closer to his side, all conscious that they had entered the territory of another great power. Zhu clicked his mandibles and turned his head toward Tunde in an eerily human-like manner, and Tunde could sense the Ethralite’s nervousness through their bond.

  “It’s alright,” he whispered soothingly, though he heard the doubt in his own voice. The four mountains stood like sentinels, one in each direction. The northern one seemed to be their destination, while the southern one was where they had been stopped before being granted access. The eastern and western mountains loomed on either side.

  The size of the mountains was breathtaking, their peaks hidden beyond the clouds. Tunde could sense cultivators of various lord realms moving about within them, their unleashed auras making no attempt at concealment. It muddled his senses, making it difficult for him to focus on the Highlady guiding them toward the northern mountain.

  “There are powerful rune formations within those mountains,” Ifa whispered softly to Tunde, whose Ethra Sight flashed to life. It was like staring into an inferno, and he quickly averted his gaze, cursing under his breath. Ifa chuckled.

  “You should know better than to stare at formations that powerful with your naked eyes,” Ifa chided, as Sera glanced at Tunde with concern. He nodded.

  “So much power. Where are they drawing it from?” Tunde asked quietly.

  “Hard to say,” Ifa replied with a shrug. “They’re vassals of arguably the most powerful clan in the entire empire. It could come from anywhere, really—powerful Ethra relics, master rankers and above, or even potent Ethra crystals that absorb the ambient Ethra and refine it into ash and flame Ethra. The possibilities are endless.”

  “Either way, the Ashen Flame clan is formidable in these parts of the empire and the central plains,” Daiki added, his prayer beads wrapped tightly around his hands. “And very violent,” he muttered.

  “Violent?” Sera asked.

  “They’ve consistently produced some of the best lords and Highlords in the fight against the Technocracy’s incursions. Even the Heralds respect them, and that says a lot,” Zehra added.

  “Then we treat them with the honor they deserve,” Sera said. Tunde nodded, gripping the ship’s wooden railing as he watched the Highlady pause. Ifa went to control the ship, which came to a halt close to the mountain—a structure carved into its lower parts.

  Black obsidian pillars gleamed in the fading light, supporting a golden plaque that read: Wrath Keep. Tunde startled at the realization that the bottom of the mountain itself towered far above even the tallest buildings of the city below, which now seemed like mere rocks compared to the mountain’s majesty.

  The Highlady pointed to an outcropping on the mountain, clearly designed for ships. The empty, somewhat neglected state of the docking area suggested it wasn’t used often. The ship floated toward it, as tiny figures flew out from the doors carved into the side of the mountain, settling into position as they awaited the vessel’s descent.

  When the ship finally came to a stop and the doors opened, Tunde led the group down the steps, where the same Highlady stood at the head of a procession. Her stony gaze remained fixed, her hands tucked into the folds of her robes. Behind her, figures dressed in grey robes bowed deeply at the waist.

  “We greet the emissaries of the imperial clan,” they said in perfect unison, their forms startlingly impeccable.

  Tunde returned the bow. “We thank you for your kind and warm welcome. We come at the behest of the clan,” he said.

  The Highlady nodded. “This way,” she instructed, leading them toward one of the rough, black-carved doors where lords stood sentinel. Tunde was struck by the realization that in the empire proper, the lord realm was merely the starting point for cultivation. It was here, in the heart of the empire, that any cultivator worth their salt would take you seriously.

  Even the lord realm cultivators at the gates exuded immense power, each seemingly near the peak of the realm. Their sharp eyes followed the group’s every move, and the large doors swung open as they passed through. The contrast between the outer parts of the walls and the interior was stark—like night and day. Tunde had a sinking feeling that this part of the mountain had been shaped into a natural floor, filled with black rock homes rising up toward the open, hollowed-out sky.

  The interior of the mountain was lined with stairs and rooms, giving way to the vast sect grounds before them. Sera sucked in a breath of awe. It was beautiful in its starkness—perfectly cut stones lined the ground, each home separated from the others as they moved forward. Every inch of the mountain had been repurposed, from the large rejuvenation building on the far right to the massive requisition hall, separated from the other buildings and teeming with cultivators in the robes of the clan—all lords.

  A few Highlords and Highladies hovered above, taking note of the new arrivals. They stared curiously at Tunde and his companions, though their interest faded as soon as they recognized the Highlady leading the group. They nodded respectfully to her, bowing in deference, clearly recognizing her elevated rank within the clan.

  The buildings were spaced out significantly, each seemingly housing one or more lords. Windows opened as the inhabitants peered down at them, Sera grunting in annoyance at the attention.

  “Forgive me, but do you often have guests here?” Tunde asked the Highlady.

  She nodded stiffly. “We meet them in the city or the meeting halls below. However, you are honored guests of the sect. Few have ever seen the sanctum itself,” she replied.

  Tunde nodded silently, sharing a glance with a distracted Ifa, who was still taking in their surroundings thoughtfully. They walked for several more minutes before approaching a much larger building, one that looked more like a temple than a home.

  For a brief, dreadful moment, Tunde feared they might encounter another saint, but he quickly dismissed the thought. If there had been a saint here, Varis would have informed him—or so he hoped, given the master’s tendency to overlook important details.

  Large black obsidian steps led up to the temple doors, where two peak-ranked lord realm cultivators stood with drawn blades, their eyes locked on Tunde and his companions. Even with the Highlady’s presence, they wordlessly blocked the entrance, standing as silent sentinels.

  “The Highlord is expecting them,” the Highlady said, her voice calm. The guards did not blink, their sharp gazes still on Tunde and his group.

  A faint sound echoed from within the temple, and the guards moved seamlessly, stepping aside as the doors opened soundlessly. They paid no further attention to the group. The Highlady said nothing, merely gesturing for them to follow her into the darkened sanctum.

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  The interior was thick with incense, hitting Tunde hard as he took his first steps inside. Large braziers burned brightly with dark grey flames. It took a moment for Tunde to realize they were essence flames, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. Judging by the expressions of his companions, they were equally astonished.

  The room, like many others he had visited, was one large hallway that led to a throne—this time carved from Ethra crystals that flickered with inner power. Flames burned brightly, illuminating the room and the large banner hanging behind the throne, displaying the sect’s symbol proudly.

  Numerous smaller thrones lined the sides of the hall, undoubtedly for other important figures of the sect. But it was the figure standing beside the main throne, one hand resting on it, that caught Tunde's attention.

  Her white hair was neatly tied behind her head, and her pale complexion gave her a regal, almost ethereal presence. Tunde could feel the power emanating from her, the confidence of a powerful cultivator. They stopped before the throne, and the Highlady bowed to the woman next to it before speaking.

  “Emissaries, I present to you, Highlady Mei Talahan, wife and vice sect leader of the Ashen Flame sect,” she announced.

  Tunde and the rest of the group bowed respectfully. Highlady? Tunde hadn’t expected her to be a Highlady—perhaps a master, but not of this rank.

  “Thank you. You may return to your task,” Mei said softly, her voice light as the Highlady who had guided them bowed and turned away, leaving without another word.

  “So, we ask the clan for help, and they send a single Highlord along with four lords and a beast,” Mei said with a soft smile that made the hairs on Tunde’s neck stand on end. Ifa remained silent, signaling for Tunde to speak. Just as Tunde stepped forward to respond, Mei raised a finger.

  “Does the lord speak for you, Highlord?” she asked Ifa, who chuckled lightly.

  “Forgive me, Vice Sect Leader, but he speaks with the voice of a master from the main branch of the clan,” Ifa replied. Mei’s gaze shifted to Tunde with newfound interest.

  “Really? Could you be the acolyte of Varis we’ve been hearing so much about?” she asked.

  Tunde bowed again. “This lord is honored that the Highlady recognizes him,” he replied, masking the insult aimed at an oblivious Zhu, who simply watched the interaction play out.

  “Be that as it may, I do not understand what is being implied here. Does the clan think our needs are not worth the effort? Have they forgotten so soon what it is we protect the empire against?” Mei’s voice remained soft, but the accusation was heavy.

  “I apologize, but I am in no position to question the commands of the clan, venerable Highlady,” Tunde said softly, meeting her stormy grey eyes. “We simply received orders while in transit to the capital and were told to make haste to the sect. I believe the clan means well,” he added calmly.

  “Means well,’” Mei echoed, and Tunde saw a flash of rage cross her features before it vanished. A chill ran down his spine. What had Varis thrown them into?

  Mei glanced at the rest of the group. “Though I must confess, this is quite the gathering,” she said, folding her hands behind her back. “A monk of the Luminous Path sect, if I’m not mistaken?” she asked, turning to Daiki, who bowed respectfully.

  “And you? What sect or clan do you hail from?” she asked Zehra, who stiffened before responding deferentially.

  “Clan Acacia, Highlady,” Zehra said with a bow. Mei blinked.

  “What is a Clan Acacia?” she asked, and Tunde could feel Zehra’s shock as she mumbled, “Borderlands.”

  “The borderlands?” Mei repeated, sounding almost stunned. Tunde quickly interjected.

  “She is the heir to the clan itself, quite powerful,” Tunde said, cutting in. Zehra barely glanced at him, her cheeks reddening with shame and embarrassment. Throughout the conversation, Ifa watched with amusement, preferring to let the interrogation play out.

  “An heir should count for something,” Mei mused. Then she turned to Sera. “And you, blood cultivator?”

  “Wastelands,” Sera grunted, causing Tunde to shut his eyes, praying to whatever higher power might spare her from a violent death.

  “Wastelands,” Mei echoed, her voice thoughtful. “Tell me, have you seen true battle?”

  Sera shrugged. “Faced down an army of Corespawns and true beasts led by a master-ranked cultivator. Survived the clash and took a few trophies. I’m alright,” Sera replied nonchalantly.

  “So, the rumors were true. The revenants really did attack the borders of the empire?” Mei asked, her eyes narrowing as Tunde nodded.

  “Indeed, venerable Highlady. We, along with Master Varis of Clan Talahan and the Heralds, were able to repel their advance,” Tunde explained.

  “And this led to the rise of some sect within the borderlands to take the place of the Verdan clan, I believe?” Mei continued.

  “The Highlady is indeed knowledgeable,” Tunde replied, bowing again.

  “News tends to travel quickly across the empire,” Mei said with a sigh. Her gaze shifted to Zhu, who cocked his head curiously at her before refocusing on Tunde.

  “I cannot give the final decision, not until you meet with the sect leader,” Mei said. “However, you are now our honored guests, and we will treat you as such.” She clapped her hands, and the large doors swung open, signaling the end of their conversation.

  “Forgive me, but when will we meet the sect leader?” Tunde asked.

  “When he calls for you. You are here to help us, are you not?” Mei replied.

  Tunde nodded, bowing along with the rest of the group before they made their way out of the building.

  ********************************

  They were led out of the mountain and down toward the city, leaving their ship docked. Another vessel carried them, accompanied by the same Highlady, Nue. As they moved across the city, Tunde watched leisurely as cultivators and regular people went about their day, occasionally glancing furtively at the passing ship.

  Children waved and cheered, much to the embarrassment and consternation of their parents and the adults around them. Cultivators bowed at the sight of the ship’s symbol, bowing even lower when they caught sight of the Highlady standing at the prow, her hands folded behind her.

  Tunde observed Ifa move closer to Nue, attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation. He was genuinely curious about what questions the master might ask the Highlady, who glanced at him.

  "Lovely city you have here," Ifa began, aware of the other cultivators discreetly listening in on their conversation. "Though I can’t help but notice the absence of other great factions from the empire," he added.

  Nue nodded. "Ashhaven isn’t for the weak," she replied. "Every cultivator you see down there can trace their roots, in one way or another, to the founding families who called these mountain ranges home."

  Nue pointed into the distance, far beyond the city to the darkened forests. Tunde shuddered at the sight, remembering he had seen enough darkened forests for a lifetime. "Beyond those trees lies the Great Untamed Forest, and the source of our woes, as you will soon learn," she said.

  "It provides the perfect defense against the Technocracy," Nue continued, as Ifa frowned. "Aren’t we too deep within the empire to be sharing borders with the Technocracy?" he asked.

  "Beyond that forest lies a relic of the Technocracy. We’ve tried fruitlessly to remove it, but no matter what we do, we always fail. Occasionally, the artificers send something through to attempt to siege the sect, but they always fail as well," she explained.

  "Why?" Tunde blurted out, drawing the Highlady’s attention. She glanced back at him with distaste but quickly composed herself, remembering who he was. The respect afforded to him as Varis’s acolyte was astonishing, but Tunde couldn’t shake his discomfort over how he was treated.

  "Because the creatures that call that forest home suffer no intrusion into their territory. That’s why we haven’t been able to comfortably take down the relic," she explained.

  "So you’re fighting not just the relic and whatever the Technocrats throw your way, but also the creatures of the forest," Ifa surmised. Nue nodded.

  "You will be given a full explanation when the time is right. For now, enjoy the hospitality of the sect," she finished, as the ship picked up speed, moving toward the eastern mountain’s base where large buildings stood.

  “The buildings are far from the city,” Zehra said as she moved next to Tunde, arms folded, her voice cold.

  The words of the Highlady had clearly struck a nerve. Being told that her clan—personally invited by the imperial clan—was of no consequence in the grand scheme of things had been jarring. Tunde could empathize, but not fully; after all, no one ever heard of Black Rock, certainly not this deep into the empire.

  He nodded, staring at the empty yet perfectly maintained landscape leading to the buildings, as the ship began to settle on the crusted ground, powering down. They disembarked in silence, making their way toward the large stone gates that rose along with the rough, rock-hewn walls. The gates groaned as they opened on their own.

  "Welcome to your abode," Nue said, gesturing to the complex inside. "An entire building reserved for our most esteemed guests at any point or time."

  Tunde grudgingly admitted that Nue knew what she was talking about, impressed by the massive complex built for them.

  "Servants and maids will arrive soon to attend to your needs, so please, enjoy," she added before swiftly turning and heading back to the ship.

  “Oh,” she paused. “You are, of course, free to go down into the city, but we recommend caution. The people of Ashhaven rarely receive guests and are quite guarded.” With that, she continued on her way, the stone gates grinding shut behind her.

  Sera sighed. "I could use a good sleep," she muttered. Daiki nodded in agreement, but Zehra’s frustration finally boiled over.

  "Is no one else bothered by how we’ve been treated?" Zehra exclaimed, her voice filled with rage.

  "We are within the domain of a sect as mysterious as the imperial clan itself. I suggest you respect the wishes of our hosts," Ifa replied calmly, casting a meaningful glance toward the building.

  Tunde understood immediately. "Indeed!" he said with sudden enthusiasm. "And we’ve traveled for too long. Come, let us rest." He put a hand gently on Zehra’s shoulder as he drew her close.

  "The walls may have ears," he whispered softly. Zehra froze, then nodded silently, following him toward the large building in front of them.