The heavens trembled.
Not a gentle quake, but a ferocious convulsion that rippled through the divine skies, rattling the golden towers and echoing across the luminous expanse. Celestial beasts cried from distant mountains, stars flickered uneasily, and streams of stardust veered from their usual paths. The Realm of Immortality had not known such a disturbance in a thousand cycles.
Within the grand palace that sat atop the Clouds of Eternity, Emperor Kunglang stood at the peak of the Skyfire Hall, his long robes swaying with each tremor. The mosaic of light beneath his feet fractured briefly before settling into stillness. His piercing gaze turned to the east, where the tremors had first been felt, where the air itself still shimmered with residual energy.
Beside him, the archangels gathered, wings furled in solemn silence. Their armor glowed with radiant inscriptions, forged from stardust and time, yet even their mighty presence could not dispel the unease coiling in the air.
"What could shake the heavens so viciously?" Emperor Kunglang asked, his voice cold as moonstone, laced with restrained fury. "What force dares disturb the celestial balance?"
A voice responded, calm and sure, belonging to none other than the top-tier divine warrior, Sagittarius. With golden eyes that had seen the rise and fall of realms, and a bow etched with constellations slung across his back, he stepped forward, kneeling with reverence.
"The reason is still unknown, Your Majesty," Sagittarius began, rising to meet his emperor's eyes. "But I bring grave news. Someone from the Underworld has broken the Sealing Gate to the Forbidden Hollow."
Kunglang's brows furrowed. "The Forbidden Hollow… where the ancient demonic beasts were imprisoned after the last Celestial War?"
"Yes," Sagittarius confirmed grimly. "The seals, woven by the first generation of gods, were ruptured. Foul energy seeps through the breach. As for who dared open it... that remains uncertain. But the aura bears traces of underworld sorcery, laced with hatred older than this heaven itself."
A heavy silence followed.
The emperor's grip tightened on the hilt of the sword at his side. The weapon, usually dormant, began to hum with resonance—as if sensing its old enemies awakening.
"Why now… suddenly?" Kunglang muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His voice, usually commanding and unwavering, carried a rare note of doubt. "Is the Underworld stirring again? Have they begun their rampage anew?"
His question lingered in the air like a thundercloud.
Sagittarius took a step closer, his presence steady and unwavering, radiating calm in the midst of divine tension.
"We will soon find out," he replied, his tone firm, eyes glinting with determination. "Our scouts are already tracing the corrupted winds back to their origin. I will personally lead the investigation if Your Majesty permits."
Kunglang nodded slowly, a trace of pride flickering in his eyes. "You have never failed the heavens, Sagittarius. Go. Take the Celestial Guard. Leave no stone unturned. I want the name of the one responsible, and I want it carved in fire."
A thunderclap rolled across the sky—ominous, yet distant.
Sagittarius bowed once more and turned to leave. As he walked away, wings of brilliant light unfurled behind him, spreading wide like a comet streaking across the heavens. The divine palace watched in silence, as the warrior of stars descended into the unknown.
Kunglang remained still, gazing into the horizon, his heart heavy with ancient dread. He could still remember the last time the demonic beasts were unsealed. A sky bled red for seven days. Mountains wept flames. Gods fell.
And now, it was beginning again.
But this time… there was something different in the air. A deeper malice. A shadow that didn't belong to just the Underworld.
"Something… or someone… is playing a deeper game," Kunglang whispered. "And Heaven must be ready."
He turned, robes sweeping behind him, and vanished into the divine chamber where prophecies were carved and destinies recorded.
---
Everyone stood frozen in the Temple of Moonpetals. The sudden burst of light, the monstrous shrieks, the veil of smoke—it had all happened too fast. The devils were gone. The temple gate had sealed itself shut behind the veiled figure in white, as if swallowing a secret the world wasn't meant to know.
No one moved. Not even the wind dared to stir. The blood from the fallen still stained the white marble floor. Broken pillars cracked down the middle. The scent of smoke clung to everything.
Then a soldier shouted, "General Quashin has arrived!"
Boots thudded against the stone as a man in dust-covered armor knelt before the throne platform. His hand pressed to the ground, head bowed.
"Your Majesty… are you unharmed?" he asked, voice hard but shaken.
King Arthro, who had just lowered his drawn sword, nodded once. "I am," he said. "You're late."
"My apologies, Your Majesty," Quashin said, rising with grit in his voice. "I came as fast as I could. The southern gates were too far when I received word of a demonic attack. I dropped everything and rode through the night."
Queen Roselin, her crown askew and her face pale, stepped forward. "We owe our lives to that… that unknown woman," she said. "She saved us."
The general's brow twitched. "With all due respect, Your Majesty… there's something wrong about this. Demonic beasts haven't stepped foot in the mortal realm for centuries. Not since the Divine Pact. Why now? Why here?"
His gaze narrowed at the sealed temple gate.
King Arthro gripped the hilt of his sword, still stained with blood from one of the creatures. "I've been thinking the same," he muttered. "This wasn't some stray beast wandering through a crack in the sky. This was coordinated. Intentional."
He looked to Quashin. "Do you remember the legends?"
"Yes, sire," Quashin replied. "The last time demonic beasts attacked, the Divine Ruler himself sealed them away. A pact was made—our world would remain untouched. We were promised peace."
"And now?" Arthro gestured to the wreckage around them. "Peace has been broken. And the temple… it accepted her. A veiled woman who wielded divine light like it was born into her bones. Then it shut its doors."
"We have no idea who she is," Roselin whispered, staring at the closed gate. "But the temple chose her."
The king didn't answer. He was deep in thought, his jaw clenched.
Quashin cleared his throat. "Your Majesty. Give the order. Let me investigate this fully. I want every corner of this kingdom searched. I want every whisper brought to my ears. No reports go ignored. No loose ends. I'll find out how those creatures got in."
"Good," Arthro said. "Do not trust anyone outside the palace circle. Keep your men close. No one speaks of what happened here. Not yet."
"And the woman?"
The king looked to the gate once more. "For now… let's go along with the flow. We can't afford to provoke her. Not until we know what she is. A goddess or a curse. We observe. Quietly. No public decree. Keep her identity hidden."
"As you command."
Quashin turned to the stunned guards still standing in corners. His voice boomed. "CLEAN THIS UP! NOW! BURN THE CORPSES. PATCH THE WALLS. GET RID OF EVERYTHING THAT SHOULDN'T BE SEEN."
The guards snapped into action like someone had lit fire under their feet.
He turned to a soldier near the broken stairs. "And call the royal astrologer. I want him here now. We need to know what the stars say about this madness."
The soldier ran.
Roselin stepped down, her gown trailing through blood and ash. "The people will ask questions. There were too many witnesses."
"Then bribe them," Arthro said. "Threaten them. Do whatever it takes. No one must know that the devils crossed into our world."
Roselin nodded stiffly. Her eyes flicked to the gate again. "What if… she isn't with us? What if she's part of them?"
Arthro's face turned cold. "Then we kill her before she finds her footing."
"But what if she's the only reason we're alive?" Roselin asked. "We just saw her tear the beasts apart without touching them. Her power—"
"I don't care how powerful she is," the king interrupted. "No one holds power in my kingdom unless I say so. Not even a god."
The queen didn't reply. She looked down at her bloodstained fingers and said nothing more.
General Quashin approached the wrecked altar. "It's strange," he muttered, examining the cracks left behind by the demonic attack. "They didn't just come to kill. They were searching for something. Or someone. Their eyes... they weren't wild. They were driven."
"You think they were after her?" Roselin asked.
Quashin straightened. "It makes sense. They stopped when she appeared. They tried to flee. But she didn't let them. She… hunted them down."
The king was quiet. Then he said, "Find the truth, Quashin. Tear apart the archives. I want to know if this has happened before. A woman like her. Power like that."
"I'll dig till I bleed, sire."
The astrologer arrived soon after—his robe singed from rushing through half-burnt forest paths. He dropped to his knees, breathless.
"Your Majesty… the sky… it split earlier tonight. I saw it. Before the screams reached the palace. The stars fell out of rhythm. The moon turned grey."
"You should've told me sooner," Arthro growled.
"I—I feared it was a bad omen. I didn't think it would turn real."
Quashin glared. "From now on, you report everything. No matter how small. You see a leaf turn backward, you tell us. Understand?"
The old man nodded rapidly.
The king stepped away from the others and looked up. The moon still hovered in the sky, but it looked thinner somehow. Pale. Like it had watched something it wasn't ready for.
"Set a curfew," he ordered. "No one walks the streets after dark. Send spies to every corner of the five reigns. I want to know if more beasts are coming."
"And the Choosing Ceremony?" Concubine Shithal asked.
"It's done. Over. We cancel it until further notice."
"What about the noble daughters already inside the palace?"
"Send them home," Arthro said. "Say the temple needs repairs. That the moon has spoken against the choosing. I don't care. Lie. But get them out."
Shithal hesitated. "And if they saw her?"
"Then we make them forget," he said flatly.
Quashin raised an eyebrow. "You planning to use the mind alchemist?"
"If I must."
The king turned back to the sealed temple gate. His voice was low when he spoke again.
"She walked in like she owned the place," he murmured. "And the temple—our temple—welcomed her."
The silence that followed felt heavier than any roar of war.
---