Kaelan flies with Soraya and lands on a mountain within the Black Mountain Range.
Under the faint moonlight, the mountains rise like jagged stone beasts, their rocky faces bare and unforgiving. Vegetation is scarce—except for the valley below. There, dense trees cluster together, each leaf shaped like a five-pointed star, their sharp tips reflecting moonlight with a metallic sheen.
Following Soraya, Kaelan descends into the valley.
As he walks, his eyes sharpen. Rare herbs grow in abundance here—plants that should not exist so close together without deliberate cultivation. Beneath the thin soil, stone slabs lie hidden, engraved with runes arranged in careful patterns.
An array.
A large one.
"Why is there an array laid through the valley?" he wonders.
He does not ask Soraya. If needed, he is confident he can dismantle it.
They emerge from the forest onto the bank of a quiet river. In the centre of the water floats a large wooden raft—wide, flat, and stable, with pillars at its edges and a single bed placed at its centre.
Soraya stops.
"Palace Master Ariel is waiting for you there," she says.
Kaelan glances at her. "You're not coming?"
Soraya shakes her head. "She wants to meet you alone."
Kaelan nods.
He steps forward. A translucent force field forms beneath his feet, allowing him to walk across the water without disturbing its surface. As he approaches the raft, he offers a brief, silent hope that this meeting does not end in conflict.
He steps onto the deck.
The raft's lone inhabitant stands with her back to him, dressed in white. Violet hair cascades down her back like a waterfall.
"What is a bed doing here?" Kaelan thinks, unease stirring.
The woman turns.
In that instant, Kaelan freezes.
A crushing wave of desire floods his senses, overwhelming thought itself. His vision blurs, his breath shortens, and a single, dangerous impulse surges forward. He takes an involuntary step—
Then something within him stirs.
Divinity hums.
The buzz cuts through the haze, wrenching his mind back into focus.
Kaelan stops.
He looks at her again, this time with fear carefully hidden behind composure. The desire remains—heavy, insistent—but it is suppressed, forced down by the authority within him.
Her presence is flawless, terrifyingly so—an embodiment of the Law of Desire. Even the smallest movement draws the heart forward, demanding surrender.
She observes him with calm, unclouded eyes.
"Your willpower is strong," she says.
Kaelan knows the truth.
It is not his willpower.
Without the divinity within him, he would already have fallen.
He steadies himself. "What do you want?"
She answers without hesitation. "I want a child. And you are chosen to be the father."
Shock ripples through him.
"What?"
With a simple gesture, the pressure intensifies. Desire swells again—controlled, deliberate.
"I don't have time to waste," she says.
Energy manifests—pink chains of power coil outward, binding him and pulling him onto the bed. Kaelan resists, the divinity within him flaring as the scene tightens, the air heavy with opposing forces and intent.
The moment stretches—
And the night holds its breath.
---
Back in Silver City, the next morning arrives quietly.
Sunlight filters through tall windows, casting warm patterns across the breakfast table as servants move softly in the background. Jin Yinji sits straight-backed, calm as ever, while her mother fusses relentlessly.
"Look at you," her mother says, worry plain in her eyes.
"How thin you've become."
Before Yinji can reply, more food is piled onto her plate.
Yinji raises a hand, gently blocking it.
"Mother," she says with a faint smile, "any more and I'll be hungry."
Her mother pauses, then sighs, finally sitting back. Yinji eats, listening as her mother chatters about minor household matters, responding now and then, letting the familiar rhythm soothe the morning.
When the meal ends and tea is poured, her mother's tone changes.
"After the business meeting," she says carefully, "you're not going anywhere. You'll stay here."
Yinji's lips curve into a small, sad smile.
"Mother, that isn't up to me."
"I'll speak to your father," her mother says firmly.
"I'll make him agree."
Almost on cue, footsteps approach.
"What exactly am I supposed to agree to?"
Her father enters, robes neat, expression composed.
Her mother stands immediately.
"Darling, I want Yin'er to stay here after the meeting."
He pauses, then shakes his head.
"That I cannot do."
Her mother stiffens.
"Why not? Aren't you the head of this family?"
Their voices rise, irritation sharpening each word.
Yinji sets her cup down with a soft click.
"Stop it," she says.
Both of them freeze.
"I came home," Yinji continues quietly, "not to hear you quarrel because of me."
Silence follows.
Her parents exchange glances, guilt softening their expressions.
"We're sorry," her mother says first.
"Yes," her father adds.
Yinji nods once, then looks at her father.
"Father, I want to change to a new position."
He studies her.
"Where?"
"I want to see the ocean," she says.
"What about Adran?"
Her father considers for only a moment before nodding.
"Very well. You'll be the manager there."
Her mother's eyes widen.
"Why can't she stay with us?"
Her father turns to her calmly.
"Why did you insist on refining a blood-bound weapon for her?" he asks.
"To protect her."
He looks back at Yinji.
"I'm sending her away to protect her."
Her mother sighs, conflicted, then suddenly brightens.
"What about trying the Wizard Way?" she says.
"The Wizard founder is here as well. He might be able to help you cultivate."
Yinji considers it briefly.
"I'll look for him."
Her father nods.
"He's staying in the Divine Tower."
Yinji inclines her head.
"Then we should prepare for the auction."
One by one, they rise from the table and leave to dress for the day.
---
Later, in her room, Jin Yinji stands by the window.
Two birds flutter in silently and perch on the sill.
One tilts its head and speaks, its voice soft yet ancient.
"Goddess, why don't you awaken your memories?"
Yinji does not turn.
"Not now," she replies calmly.
"My objective isn't finished yet."
The birds fall silent, watching her as sunlight glints faintly in Jin Yinji's eyes.
---
Later that day, Kaelan walks into the auction house.
The interior is vast and refined, layered with soundproof arrays and security formations that hum softly beneath the marble floors. Officials and attendants move with practised efficiency.
A pudgy middle-aged man hurries over the moment he sees Kaelan.
This is Manager Pu, an official of Silver City.
His smile is wide, almost ingratiating.
"Lord Kong," he says, bowing slightly, "what can I do for you?"
Kaelan wastes no words.
"I want to list some items for auction."
Manager Pu's eyes brighten instantly.
"Wise—very wise," he says quickly.
"I will ensure they fetch the highest possible price."
Kaelan raises his hand.
One by one, five items appear in the air.
The manager's breath catches.
First—a sword, entirely black, veins like dried blood crawling along the blade, exuding a cold, ominous aura.
Second—a white locket, embedded with five crystals, each radiating a distinct elemental presence.
Third—a bracelet, its surface rippling faintly like liquid metal.
Fourth—a mirror, smooth and dark, its reflective surface swallowing light instead of returning it.
Fifth—a glove, unassuming at first glance, yet carrying a restrained, predatory pressure.
Manager Pu's smile stiffens.
These are not ordinary spiritual treasures.
Each one alone would be a centrepiece at any auction.
"Lord Kong…" he says carefully, awe leaking into his voice, "I will personally oversee their handling."
Kaelan nods once and leaves.
---
Back in his room within the Divine Tower, Kaelan stands before a floating map depicting the territory of the Silver Treasure House.
Cities, trade routes, sect territories, and coastal lines.
He has made his decision.
A Wizard Academy will be established here.
This land is open. Commercial. Less bound by old sect hierarchies.
His third clone will reside permanently.
His finger traces the eastern coastline.
"The eastern sea," he murmurs.
Vast. Untapped. Rich with hidden resources.
Perfect.
He dismisses the map as the auction begins.
He does not attend.
He has no interest in the auction items.
The event will last three days, and only on the final day will anything he truly needs appear.
Instead, Kaelan meets merchants.
He negotiates calmly, efficiently—large-scale deliveries of materials needed to construct magic pools, shipped in bulk to Chen Kingdom and Tang Kingdom.
Contracts are signed.
Schedules are fixed.
Payments settled.
With everything arranged, he returns to his room.
Now—
He focuses.
---
Kaelan sits cross-legged, consciousness sinking inward.
The Dark Vortex spell blueprint unfolds in his mind.
The core concept is clear.
A vortex—not of destruction, but of inevitability.
The difficulty lies not in power, but in purity.
Rotation invites distortion.
Compression invites corruption.
Consumption invites oblivion.
All of these are paths of the Dark Elemental Law.
But he must not allow them.
The Dark Path alone must dominate.
He begins again.
Dark elemental energy gathers—not violently, but obediently.
He compresses it into a spiral structure using only universal motion principles, rejecting any resonance with distortion.
The vortex forms.
Then collapses.
Too much pressure.
He adjusts—loosening density, reinforcing cohesion with solid universal constants.
The vortex stabilises… briefly.
Then corruption seeps in.
He disperses it instantly.
Again.
And again.
Hours pass.
Each failure sharpens understanding.
He realises something fundamental.
The Dark Vortex cannot be forced.
It must be permitted.
Darkness does not seize—it accepts.
He shifts his approach.
Instead of compressing energy inward, he defines absence.
A region where light, heat, sound, and resistance are all denied.
Dark energy flows naturally into that void.
The vortex forms.
This time—
It holds.
Slowly rotating.
Silent.
Hungry.
Kaelan's breath steadies.
The spell is not complete.
But it is no longer collapsing.
The Dark Path resonates deeply.
One more refinement.
One final alignment.
And the spell will be born.
---
After the auction ends, a secret meeting convenes elsewhere in Silver City.
Representatives from the Qi Refining sects gather in a sealed chamber, expressions grim.
Tianren Sect.
Sacred Thunder Mountain.
Other orthodox powers.
A single name dominates the room.
"Kong Wuya."
Flying ships.
Magic nodes.
Wizard academies.
The silence breaks.
"If this continues," one elder says, "our foundations will crumble."
Another clenches his fist.
"The Wizard Way cannot replace us."
A third speaks coldly.
"Then it must be stopped."
Above Silver City, storms gather unseen.
And in the Divine Tower, darkness spins quietly into form.