The bustling streets of the Outer Commercial Continent were a chaotic, sprawling sea of activity. Millions of wandering cultivators, independent merchants, and minor sect delegates moved beneath the artificial twilight of the Providence Hub, completely oblivious to the silent phantoms gliding through the air directly above them.
Mariska, alongside the rescued members of her kin and her team, moved rapidly through the sky. They were completely enveloped by the translucent veil of a stealth artifact. The device, an ancient heirloom of their race, warped the ambient light and suppressed their mana signatures so flawlessly that even the highly advanced scanning formations of the Hub's security grid swept over them without registering a single anomaly.
They silently flew through the spires and glowing commercial buildings until the dense, high-end architecture gradually gave way to a more subdued region. This was a residential district within the Outer Commercial Continent, a place where long-term wanderers rented estates.
The team descended swiftly toward a modest, enclosed courtyard, passing seamlessly through a standard privacy barrier before slipping into the structure.
The heavy door clicked shut behind them, and the ambient noise of the Providence Hub was instantly muffled. The interior of the house looked completely normal, decorated with simple, utilitarian furnishings that would not draw a second glance from any inspector. It was indistinguishable from any other hall in the millions of homes across the continent.
But this was merely a threshold.
"Levi, open the door," Mariska commanded as she gently adjusted her hold on the collapsed Elyrian.
"Yes, Princess," Levi replied. The winged warrior, who had only moments ago restrained her from obliterating the remains of the dead Head alien, stepped forward into the empty center of the hall.
Levi closed his eyes, his aura flaring for a fraction of a second. Instead of relying on a pre-constructed formation array or a physical relic key, he raised his right hand and thrust it directly into the empty air. His fingers curled as though grasping an invisible, heavy fabric. With a sharp, guttural exhale, he pulled his arm downward with tremendous force.
The space before them tore open with a sickening, ripping sound.
The fabric of reality yielded to his command, peeling back to reveal a swirling, violently unstable vortex that quickly smoothed out into a luminous purple portal.
Without another word, Levi stepped through the rift. Mariska followed immediately, her majestic wings tucked close to her body to protect the wounded man in her arms. The rest of the team filed in behind her, scanning the empty hall one last time before crossing the threshold. The moment the final Elyrian entered, the purple portal collapsed inward, sealing itself without a trace. The quiet residential hall remained perfectly undisturbed, as if no one had ever been there.
…
Emerging from the portal, the sterile, metallic scent of the Providence Hub was instantly replaced by the rich, fragrant aroma of damp earth, blooming flora, and impossibly pure ambient mana.
They stepped out of the violet light and into a sprawling micro-dimension.
It was a sanctuary concealed within the deepest folds of space, relatively small by galactic standards, roughly the size of a single metropolis capable of supporting a few hundred thousand people, but to the Elyrians, it was their entire universe.
Lush, deep green grasslands stretched out toward the horizon, bordered by crystal-clear lakes that reflected the soft light of a meticulously crafted artificial sky. Scattered across the rolling hills and valleys were elegant buildings constructed from white stone, their architecture defined by sweeping, organic curves and open archways that allowed the wind to flow freely.
This was the last remaining bastion of the Elyrian civilization. Thousands of winged beings moved through the skies and along the white-stone pathways below, turning their gazes upward as the spatial ripples announced the return of their Princess.
Mariska did not pause to acknowledge the reverent bows of her people. She and her team flew directly toward the heart of the micro-dimension, where a grand, majestic castle carved from white marble rose above the landscape.
Upon landing gracefully in the central courtyard of the castle, the team immediately began assisting the rescued prisoners, guiding them toward the medical wings.
Levi stepped to Mariska's side, extending his arms. "I will take care of him, Princess. The healers are already prepared."
Mariska looked down at the pale, bruised face of her rescued kin. And then she carefully transferred the wounded male Elyrian into Levi's grip, her jaw tightening as she saw the fresh blood staining her own robes.
"Ensure he receives the highest-grade vitality essence we have," Mariska ordered softly.
"He is in safe hands," Levi assured her with a respectful nod, turning to carry the man swiftly toward the castle's inner sanctum.
Freed from her burden, the cold fury that she had kept locked away during the rescue finally began to boil over. Mariska turned on her heel and strode deeper into the castle. Her footsteps echoed sharply against the marble floors, her Astral Stage aura leaking faintly, causing the ambient mana in the corridors to tremble in her wake.
She navigated the winding halls until she reached the Sovereign's Garden, a massive, open-air conservatory located at the highest point of the castle. The garden was a breathtaking array of rare, ancient flora, bathed in the eternal twilight of the micro-dimension's artificial sky.
Standing near the edge of a pond, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, was a male Elyrian draped in elegant, deep green robes. His wings, larger and more magnificent than any others in the sanctuary, were folded peacefully behind him. He stood perfectly still, his gaze fixed on the artificial stars above.
This was King Elyras, the ruler of the Elyrian people, and her father.
"Father!" Mariska called out as she stormed down the stone pathway, her eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. "We cannot simply leave things as they are. I have ascended to the Astral Stage, and our army is honed and ready for war at any moment. We should march out there and kill those Yiphraen scum! We must eradicate them before they bleed us dry!"
The King did not flinch at her outburst. He turned slowly and looked at his daughter, noting the blood on her robes and the fury burning in her eyes.
He offered a slow shake of his head. "Do not let the fire of your recent ascension blind you to the reality of our enemy, Mariska."
"Their leader, who sits at the apex of the Yiphraen hierarchy, stands at the second stage of consciousness mastery. His willforce is an ocean that could drown this entire micro-dimension in a single breath. Even if you and I joined hands, pooled every drop of our willforce and unleashed our most devastating techniques, we could not even scratch her mind. We can do nothing against her."
Mariska gritted her teeth, her hands curling into tight fists at her sides. "But Father, they are growing bolder and stronger every single day. And Brother… Brother is already suffering in their darkest prisons, enduring torments we cannot even imagine. If we do not step up now, things will spiral completely out of our hands."
She took a desperate step closer, pleading with him. "Brother could die in there anytime now. And even if we abandon him, what then? One day, they will inevitably find the spatial anchors to our hidden sanctuary here. When that day comes, our entire civilization will be destroyed without us ever having thrown a single strike in our defense."
"Do you think I do not feel the agony of my own son's imprisonment?" the King asked, his voice dropping to a harsh, sorrowful whisper. "Do you think I do not wish to tear the heavens apart to bring him back? But do not forget why your brother was captured in the first place."
He stepped toward her, his gaze piercing through her anger. "He acted exactly as you are acting right now. He was driven by fury, blinded by confidence in his own power, and entirely dismissive of the cosmic hierarchy. And because his strength was utterly insufficient to match his rage, he failed. He led his vanguard into a slaughter, and now he rots in chains."
The King placed a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Master your consciousness first. Cultivate your willforce until you pierce the veil and take it to the second stage. Only then… only then will we talk about waging a war. But before that day arrives, no matter what happens, no matter who falls into their hands, we will not step out from this sanctuary to face them in open war."
Mariska stared at him, the physical weight of his hand mirroring the suffocating despair settling in her chest. She had spent millions of years agonizing over her cultivation, breaking her own limits, tearing through the threshold of the Rule Stage just to earn the power to protect her people. Yet here she stood, an Astral Stage sovereign, and she had never felt more helpless.
"Is there really no other way, Father?" she whispered, her voice cracking as the anger gave way to a desperate dread. "What if I can never reach the second stage? What if no Astral Stage being with second-stage consciousness mastery is ever born within our civilization again? What would happen then? Do we just wait in this gilded cage until the universe forgets us?"
The King's eyes softened, the stern ruler giving way to a grieving father. He withdrew his hand, looking back up at the artificial stars that mirrored the cruel universe outside.
"Do not lose your hope, Mariska," he said quietly. "We have survived. We have stood tall and preserved our lineage for millions of years against the Yiphraens' endless hunts. Our patience is our greatest weapon. Even if it is going to take another million years, we will endure. And one day, whether by your hand or by the hand of an Elyrian yet to be born, we will pay them back for everything they have done to us."
Mariska clenched her fingers so tightly that her nails bit into her palms, drawing crescent moons of blood.
Endure, Wait and Hide.
Those words tasted like poison on her tongue. She felt utterly powerless. What was the point of ascending? What was the point of grasping the stars if she was forbidden from burning the monsters that tortured her own blood? The image of her brother, chained and bleeding in a Yiphraen prison, flashed in her mind, obliterating any rational patience she had left.
She turned her back to her father, her wings flaring aggressively behind her.
"Since you are not going to do anything to save him," Mariska said, her voice dropping into a register of cold defiance, "then I will."
"Mariska!" The King's voice cracked. "Do not act like a fool!"
Mariska did not respond. Space folded around her in a violent ripple of silver and gold light, and in the blink of an eye, she disappeared from the garden, leaving nothing behind but the scent of flowers.
King Elyras stood alone in the silent garden. The anger on his face slowly melted away, replaced by exhaustion. He slumped slightly, suddenly looking every bit of his million years of age.
"She is just like her brother," he murmured to the empty air, rubbing his temples. "The blinding radiance of ascending to the Astral Stage makes them believe they can burn the universe to ash. But words and warnings can never stop that kind of fury. Only the brutal reality of the universe can."
He closed his eyes and let out a long, weary sigh.
"Xeolze," the King commanded quietly into the shadows.
Instantly, the darkness beneath the canopy of a nearby willow tree shifted and condensed. A male Elyrian, clad in pitch-black armor, materialized from the void. His presence was completely masked, his aura nonexistent. He was already kneeling on one knee, his head bowed in reverence.
"Yes, my Lord," Xeolze replied, his voice a whisper.
The King did not look at him, his gaze remaining fixed on the exact spot where his daughter had vanished.
"Shadow her movements. Do not let her out of your sight for a single fraction of a second," the King ordered. "Watch her activities closely. But if she does anything reckless... do not intervene immediately."
Xeolze remained perfectly still, waiting.
"Let her strike the wall," the King said, "Let her feel the true power of the enemy she wishes to fight. Only step in and save her when she truly realizes how powerless she still is. She must learn this lesson and survive it, or our civilization will truly have no future."
"It shall be done as you command, my Lord," Xeolze affirmed without a shred of hesitation.
The shadow guard bowed his head once more, and as seamlessly as he had arrived, he dissolved back into the ambient darkness of the garden, vanishing to follow the wayward princess.
Left alone beneath the artificial sky, King Elyras closed his eyes, silently praying to the ancestors of the Elyrian race that his daughter would survive the harsh awakening she was running toward.