“Haaah….Haah….” I could barely breathe, my legs trembling with each step, but I couldn’t stop.
Not now, not when every inch of me screamed for my child.
It had only been two days since I delivered her, two days since I held her for the first time—fragile and perfect.
My body was weak, too soon for this exertion, but none of that mattered.
My child needed me.
The corridor stretched endlessly ahead, dark and suffocating, the air thick with something unspeakable.
My heart pounded against my chest, each beat a desperate plea.
I could hear the servants ahead of me, their hurried footsteps and concerned voices fading in and out of my awareness.
“Please, lady, don’t overexert yourself! Wait, wait!”
But their voices were nothing more than background noise.
I could only think of her.
My child.
My beautiful, innocent Meiyue.
I could still feel the weight of her tiny body in my arms, her warmth, the scent of her skin.
“No, no, my child, my child!”
My breath came in ragged gasps as I stumbled through the halls, my hands clutching at the walls for support, the stone cold against my palm.
I couldn’t stop.
Not now.
The doors loomed ahead, and with what little strength I had left, I pushed them open, my vision swimming.
Inside… Inside were the people I feared to see.
Elders of the Celestial Phoenix Order.
Their presence meant something terrible.
My knees buckled, but I forced myself to stay upright.
My gaze darted around the room, searching, hoping, praying… but all I saw was an empty cradle.
An empty cradle.
I could barely comprehend it, my mind refusing to accept what my eyes were seeing.
And then, I saw her.
My mother.
The Matriarch.
She stood still, her gaze fixed on the cradle, her face unreadable.
But I knew her well enough to see the tension in her clenched fists, the way her jaw tightened.
Something was wrong.
My voice cracked as I called out to her, “Mother… where is she? Where is Meiyue?”
Slowly, so painfully slowly, she turned to face me.
Her eyes, usually filled with unshakable resolve, were hollow.
Cold.
She looked at me, but there was no sorrow, no regret, no… nothing.
“I’m sorry, my child,” she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. “I was not able to save Meiyue.”
Her words hit me like a blow.
I staggered back, my hand flying to my mouth as if to stifle the scream building in my chest.
Not able to save her?
No… no… it couldn’t be true.
She was the Matriarch, the strongest of us all.
She could move mountains with a word, command the winds, bend the elements to her will.
Yet here she stood, not even trying.
Not even looking for her.
I looked at her, desperately searching for something, anything, to explain this… this failure.
But all I saw was resignation.
She wasn’t even trying.
She had given up.
Her fists remained clenched at her sides, and I could see it now—the subtle tremble of her hands, the way she averted her gaze.
She was hiding something, bound by something stronger than even her immense power.
But she didn’t fight it.
She had chosen not to fight it.
For what?
For who?
My legs gave out beneath me.
I fell to the floor, my body shaking uncontrollably, sobs wrenching from my throat.
The world around me blurred, my vision clouded with tears.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t think.
My heart… my heart felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside.
“Meiyue!” I screamed, the sound tearing from me in agony, in desperation.
The pain… gods, the pain of it was unbearable.
I clutched at my chest, as if I could somehow hold myself together, as if I could stop the pieces of me from breaking apart completely.
But it was too late.
She was gone.
My child, my precious baby girl, gone.
I wailed, loud and broken like a wounded animal, my cries echoing through the room.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
The elders, the Phoenix Order, even my mother—they all stood there, silent, as if my grief was just a passing storm they had to wait out.
I had never felt so alone.
Days turned into months, and months into years.
The hollow ache in my chest never left, a constant reminder of what I had lost.
Every day felt like I was trapped in that dark fog, wandering, searching for Meiyue with no hope of ever finding her.
Until one day, my mother, who suddenly felt the awakening of the Phoenix bloodline, used soul projection to detect its origin.
“I’ve found Meiyue,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “She is inside the Heindal Continent.”
Her words hit me like a storm.
After all these years, I finally had a glimmer of hope.
My child, my Meiyue… she was alive.
The tears that had dried over the years broke free again, unstoppable.
But even with this newfound hope, I was still bound—restricted, just like before—as my mother revealed that someone from the Ardoros continent had restricted anyone from entering the continent.
I waited, knowing she was safe at least, but the pain of not being able to go to her, to save her, tore at me every day.
When the gates to the Heindal continent finally opened, I didn’t hesitate.
I went.
I had to bring her back.
I had to see her, hold her again.
But when I found her…
She was weak, battered, and broken in ways I couldn’t comprehend.
The life she had lived—the life she had been forced to live without me—had left scars too deep to heal.
I didn’t cry.
I couldn’t.
If I broke, she would break with me.
So, I held it all in, pretending to be strong, pretending to be whole when all I wanted to do was fall apart.
But now, today…
—
“Stop! Leave my daughter alone!” I screamed, my voice raw with desperation as I burst through the doors of the palace. I had received word from Mahila that Ryuk Devereaux had broken through the middle pavilion’s formation.
And the Elders, amidst a civil war, had left Meiyue behind, evacuating under some false pretense. They had abandoned her.
I rushed to where she was, my heart racing, my mind consumed with the need to protect her.
Swoosh
The air shifted. Before I could react, a force slammed toward me—a wave of flames, sharp and lethal. Instinctively, I raised my arms, bracing myself.
Clank!
The guards behind me moved in sync, their swords catching the worst of the impact, but the force of it still knocked me back a step.
“Kughh!” The breath was forced from my lungs, and I stumbled, my body instinctively crossing my arms in front of me. So close. So close…
“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice trembling as I staggered back from the sudden burst of flames, still feeling the heat licking at my skin despite the guards’ quick defense.
A woman stepped forward from the shadows, her presence like a cold wind cutting through the heat. Her eyes gleamed under the daylight, a twisted smile playing on her lips. “I am Yao Lian,” she said, her voice as sharp as the edge of a blade. “As you’ve already heard… don’t move or he will kill your daughter.”
Her words made my blood freeze. I glanced past her, my heart skipping as I saw him—a figure in a black mask, cold and unmoving. And there, in his grasp, was a sword piercing through Mei Yue’s heart.
“No! Mahila! Use the formation!” I cried, my voice cracking with desperation. “Save my daughter!”
Whooosh
—
[Host, an illusion smoke is going to surround this place soon. Take proper measures.]
As the system warned, alerting, slowly, a dark mist started to fill the whole inner pavilion as it moved upward towards the main palace, given it was coming from the middle pavilion’s portal, revealing it as the same formation which Ryuk had crossed once, but right now the issue was something else.
‘…..’ Ryuk kept his eyes fixed on Yu Shao Yan before taking a peek towards Esme, who stood completely defenseless behind him, making it clearly evident that things would get ugly once they were trapped in that formation, seeing he needed to keep his ground while protecting Esme, ‘It would be tough….’
