The starship descended through Sanguis Prime's atmosphere, slipping through layered clouds as the planet's immense presence filled the viewport.
Lyra guided the vessel toward a vast plateau at the planet's northern pole. Rising from the center of the plateau stood a colossal structure whose architecture blended natural stone with flowing formations. Massive towers spiraled upward, their surfaces etched with symbols that pulsed faintly with restrained light.
"That's the Crimson Spire," Lyra said. "It is the sect's headquarters."
The ship slowed as it approached a landing platform near the base of the spire. Even before touching down, Adrian sensed numerous presences gathering below.
The starship settled onto the platform. Through the viewport, Everyone saw figures across the expanse.
"The sect leader resides at the spire's peak," Lyra said, rising from her seat, "I'll escort you there, Senior."
Adrian glanced back toward his companions.
"Stay with the ship for now," Adrian said. "I'll meet the sect leader first."
Everyone nodded. They trusted Adrian and chose to let him handle the conversation alone.
Adrian turned back to Lyra, "Lead the way."
She nodded and stepped off the ship first.
Adrian followed her down the ramp. The landing platform itself was enormous, carved directly from the plateau's bedrock and reinforced with formations that hummed faintly beneath his feet.
Adrian saw dozens of sect disciples across the platform in loose yet deliberate lines. None blocked their path, but their positioning made it clear that this arrival had not gone unnoticed. Their robes were deep crimson, layered with darker tones along the sleeves and collars, each embroidered with a subtle sect emblem. From what Adrian could sense, the headquarters itself seemed populated almost entirely by Rule Stage cultivators.
As Lyra and Adrian walked forward, all the disciples' gazes followed Adrian carefully, measuring him, assessing him. A few whispered to one another, voices too low to carry. Others simply watched, their faces unreadable. There was no overt hostility, but neither was there warmth. These were cultivators hardened by war, where caution had long since replaced courtesy.
Lyra slowed slightly, lowering her voice, "The sect has been on high alert since the war. Outsiders rarely enter the main grounds now."
"I understand," Adrian replied calmly.
His tone carried no irritation. He had expected scrutiny. Trust was earned, not given freely, especially in a sect that had recently bled.
As they moved deeper into the complex, the Crimson Spire loomed ever larger. Up close, its scale was imposing, though nothing unfamiliar to Adrian. The base alone stretched wider than some of the smaller constructs back in the Origin Capital, and the towers reached heights that pierced the cloud layer above.
The entrance stood open and grand with guards that flanked the threshold, their expressions blank as Lyra and Adrian passed through.
Once inside, Adrian noticed the construction shifted noticeably. The interior was no longer natural stone alone but reinforced with strange metals and refined modern structures. Walls gleamed with polished alloy, and the floors bore intricate patterns that channeled mana throughout the building.
Disciples moved through the halls, some carrying scrolls, others conversing in low tones. A few glanced toward Adrian as he passed, their steps slowing momentarily before they continued onward.
They reached a lift positioned at the spire's core, a circular platform suspended within a vertical shaft that extended upward into darkness. Lyra stepped onto it first, and Adrian followed. She placed her hand against a control panel etched into the side, and the platform rose smoothly, ascending the spire at a steady pace.
As they climbed, Adrian sensed the ambient mana density increase with each level. Lower sections carried thinner concentrations, while the higher levels felt increasingly dense and refined, clearly tailored for stronger cultivators.
Silence stretched between them until Lyra spoke again.
"You should know," she said carefully, "the sect leader is cautious. Since the war, trust has become rare."
Adrian glanced at her, "I wouldn't expect otherwise."
She hesitated, her fingers tightening briefly against the platform's edge, then continued, "She agreed to meet you because of what you did inside the sealed space, and because of what you promised."
"I'm aware," Adrian said evenly.
He had already guessed as much, and Lyra's words revealed something else as well. The sect leader was female.
The lift continued its ascent, the walls of the shaft blurring past them. Minutes stretched in quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the formations powering their rise.
Finally, the lift slowed as it reached the uppermost levels. The mana density here was overwhelming. Adrian felt like even a Stellar Warlord would find prolonged exposure uncomfortable.
The lift halted, and the doors opened.
Before them stood a pair of massive doors carved from deep red crystal. Veins of darker crimson threaded through the translucent surface, forming patterns that shifted subtly when viewed from different angles. Standing guard nearby was a humanoid being with light red skin, his features sharp and angular. He wore robes similar to disciples' below but edged with silver threading that marked higher rank.
Adrian could immediately sense that this guardian was powerful, at the very least a Mid Rule Stage cultivator, possibly even higher.
Lyra bowed deeply, her voice respectful, "Elder Torvain. This is the Senior I informed you about."
Elder Torvain inclined his head slightly toward Lyra, acknowledging her words without breaking his focus. Then he shifted his gaze to Adrian.
His four eyes narrowed faintly, pupils contracting in unison.
To Torvain's perception, the being standing before him appeared no different from a mortal, lacking any trace of divine concept. Yet Lyra's report contradicted that impression completely. She had witnessed this man annihilate an Early Rule Stage cultivator with overwhelming ease.
Torvain had positioned himself here specifically to assess this stranger before allowing him to meet the sect leader. He'd suspected Lyra might have misjudged the situation, perhaps overestimated what she'd seen in the chaos of the sealed space.
But he had not expected something like this.
The complete absence of detectable essence was itself a revelation. The ability to conceal one's divine concept so thoroughly was something only a cultivator who had fully mastered their concept could achieve. Only Peak Rule Stage cultivators were capable of such suppression.
Was this man at that level then? Torvain didn't even think this being would be at such a level before this.
This realization made Torvain even more cautious. Why would someone like this choose to join their sect, especially when it stood weakened and at the brink of further conflict?
Questions flooded his mind, each more troubling than the last. Was this man acting of his own will, or was this some elaborate scheme orchestrated by the Everlasting Pill Sect? But even that sect lacked the influence to command a Peak Rule Stage cultivator. Their sect leader was only at Peak Rule Stage himself, and such beings did not serve as pawns. None of this made sense.
Adrian noticed Torvain's scrutiny but had no idea what thoughts were unfolding behind the elder's eyes. He had concealed his divine concepts for quite a few reasons. First, he had come with no hostile intent and had no desire to display his power unnecessarily. Second, even though he had so many divine concepts under his control now, they were merely at early rule stage level, and that would not exactly show him as someone strong. Rather, having that many High-tier and even Ultimate-tier divine concepts would only invite unwanted problems.
So Adrian thought it would be better for him to suppress them for now and would reveal only the necessary things when needed.
The silence stretched. Lyra shifted slightly, uncertain whether to speak.
After a moment, Torvain spoke. "The sect leader will see you."
His tone carried weight, each word measured. Torvain knew there were risks involved. If this man truly was part of some deeper scheme, the consequences could be severe. But these were the sect leader's orders, and he could not defy them. She had made her decision after hearing Lyra's account, and he would honour it regardless of his reservations.
The massive doors parted silently, splitting down the center.
Adrian nodded once and stepped forward alone.
Lyra remained behind, her duty fulfilled.
Inside lay a vast chamber, mostly empty. High above, the ceiling curved into a dome, its surface transparent, revealing the sky beyond.
At the chamber's center floated a humanoid woman clad in crimson robes, seated cross-legged in midair, her posture one of deep meditation. Her hair fell long and unbound, cascading past her shoulders in waves of deep auburn. Her features were composed, serene even, though her closed eyes betrayed nothing of her thoughts.
Adrian was mildly surprised. He had not expected a gravely injured cultivator to appear like this. He saw no visible wounds, no outward signs of damage. The only sign of instability was the faint crimson essence surrounding her body, flickering unsteadily as if it might collapse at any moment. The energy pulsed irregularly, surging and receding without rhythm, like a flame struggling against wind.
As Adrian observed her, the woman opened her eyes.
Their gazes met.
Her irises were pale gold, luminous in the chamber's dim light.
A faint wave of divine essence surged outward from her, testing him. The crimson energy rippled through the air, invisible to mortal eyes but tangible to anyone with sufficient cultivation. She had noticed the same anomaly Torvain had and wanted to confirm Adrian's true power.
Yet the moment it touched Adrian, it rippled back and dispersed, unable to probe him in the slightest.
The essence simply vanished, absorbed or deflected, Adrian himself wasn't entirely certain which. His Source reacted instinctively, neutralizing the probe before it could register anything meaningful.
The woman's eyes sharpened, and her suspicion deepened. Only someone wielding a divine concept equal to or stronger than her own could produce such a reaction.
She studied Adrian silently for several long breaths, her expression unreadable. Finally, she spoke. "So you are the one."
She unfolded her legs and descended slowly, her feet touching the ground without a sound. The unstable crimson essence around her fluctuated violently for a brief instant, flaring outward before she forced it back under control through sheer will.
Lyra had not exaggerated. This woman was injured, yet sheer willpower kept the damage contained.
"I am Hestia," she said, taking a single step forward. "Sect Leader of the Crimson Vital Sect."
Her posture remained upright, refusing to show weakness.
Adrian met her gaze, "Adrian."
"You saved one of my disciples," she continued, "And you returned Lyra with the relic key intact. For that alone, this sect owes you gratitude."
She raised one hand, palm outward, fingers splayed. "But gratitude does not grant trust."
Adrian nodded. He had expected nothing less.