The ancestral hall was alive with incense smoke and murmurs of the gathered clan. Alden's voice echoed, loud and accusatory, as he prepared to "expose" me before the elders.
Above the hall, the golden light of the Balance Warden coalesced, threading through the ancestral idol. Its presence pressed on my senses like molten judgment.
[Emergency Shop Prompt: Hollow Mirror Rite – 15 AP]
Fifteen Abyss Points. Risk high. One heavenly probe reflected, but the Warden could retaliate. Still, the alternative—exposure—was worse.
Do it.
I channeled the Rite through the idol. Hollow energy spiraled, forming a mirror of void and shadow that shivered against the Warden's probe. Light reflected back, golden threads ripping and pulsing, a fragment of Heaven's gaze devoured mid-stream.
[AP: −15 spent][Heavenly Sliver Devoured: +25 AP]
The hall trembled. Elders murmured, unsure what they'd seen. Alden's fate thread flared and frayed, every onlooker sensing his stumble before it became action: he faltered, lost composure, and fell into disgrace.
Opportunistic taps of Hollow Palm and micro-siphons drained two nearby aspirants as the chaos unfolded.
[Net AP Gain: +10][Abyssal Foundation Stabilized → Early Core Preparation]
Above, the Warden recoiled, a faint tracer pulse left embedded in the idol. Its interest, for now, shifted—but it had been marked.
The interface blinked once, quietly:
[Shop Update: Primordial Fragment (???) – 200 AP (Locked)]
An envoy arrived shortly after the rite: a mid-tier sect seeking "promising talents." Their eyes scanned me with hunger, unaware that I had already calculated every thread of intent and deception.
Blackthorn Keep would no longer contain me.
I stepped into the shadows, Abyss Points humming beneath my skin, Hollow Palm ready, Fate filaments primed. The Serpent-in-the-Sect Arc had begun.
Heaven's balance, the Warden, Alden's schemes—all would be strands I plucked at leisure.
And I would leave this Keep a ghost, stronger than any had imagined.