Lara stepped forward, still visibly shaken from everything that had just occurred. “We’ll come with you,” she said, meeting Adrian’s eyes. “Going alone is risky.”

“No.”

The refusal was immediate and absolute.

“Your sect needs that lotus. And you’ve already depleted a significant amount of willforce fighting your way here.”

“But—”

“Elder Lara.” Adrian’s tone remained composed, but something in it silenced her protest instantly. “I don’t need help for this. What I need is for you to ensure that Lotus reaches your sect leader. Everything else is secondary.”

Lara’s fingers curled into fists at her sides. She glanced at Torvain and Maelis. Both wore similar expressions. They understood what Adrian was saying. Their priority was the mission. The lotus. Their sect leader’s life.

Still, leaving him to face the Everlasting Pill Sect alone felt wrong.

Torvain cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “The disciples are still in the outer zone. We should gather them, but without you, going back to the sect base would be extremely time-consuming.”

Adrian nodded once. Without his devour-based domain refining the chaotic energies, the disciples would have to use authority simply to move through this hostile environment. That would drain them heavily and cost critical time. There was also the possibility of encountering Everlasting Pill Sect members again along the way.

“I know,” Adrian said. “And I have a solution.”

He extended his hand and cast a spell.

Space folded. The void peeled open like silk, tearing along an invisible seam, revealing darkness shot through with violet threads.

A portal materialized before them, its edges perfectly stable.

“Come with me,” Adrian said, and stepped through without hesitation.

The others followed immediately, instinct overriding shock. Lara felt the brief disorientation of spatial displacement, then her boots touched solid ground again. The mana density had dropped significantly. They were back in the outer zone of the garden, close enough to sense the disciples nearby.

For Adrian, doing this was simple. From the moment he arrived in the universe, he had seen teleportation used everywhere, UNI-Hub portals, relic formations. He had studied those formations with his Source Eyes and identified the arcane concepts involved: Space, Void, Boundary, and Continuity.

While he did not have full comprehension of Boundary or Continuity at the advanced galactic level, observing these systems repeatedly had given him essential insight. Enough to understand which fragments were actually used within divine concepts. Which rules mattered. Which could be simplified or replaced.

Using that partial understanding, he had experimented and created his own divine concept. It was not identical to what others used, the combination was different, rougher in some places, more efficient in others, but the result was functionally similar.

And he had anticipated this moment. When he learned they would be using a relic key, which was essentially a pre-configured teleportation formation, he had prepared in advance. Back when he arrived at the Crimson Vital Sect, he had already assembled these concepts together into a divine construct meant for exactly this kind of situation. He had also studied the relic formation itself during their arrival, memorizing its spatial coordinates and anchor points.

With all these things, sending people back to the sect was trivial for him.

Once everyone had crossed through the portal, it closed. The violet threads unraveled, and the tear in space sealed itself without leaving a trace.

Adrian opened another one immediately afterward. Same smooth motion. Same violet-threaded darkness.

“This will lead you back to the sect,” he said, gesturing toward the new portal. “Use it and return quickly.”

Lara stood frozen for a moment, the lotus still cradled carefully in her hands. Her mind struggled to process what she was witnessing. Another divine concept.

Torvain and Maelis reacted first. They exchanged a brief glance, then moved without further hesitation.

“Disciples!” Torvain’s voice cut through the garden’s ambient hum. “Form up! We’re leaving!”

The disciples appeared moments later, flying low through the dense foliage. Kaya led the group. The others followed close behind, expressions shifting from confusion to relief when they spotted the elders.

“What’s happening?” one of them asked breathlessly.

“No questions,” Maelis said sharply. “Through the portal. Now.”

The disciples obeyed, crossing through one by one. Their movements were hurried but disciplined.

The elders followed one by one. Torvain paused at the threshold, turning back toward Adrian.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

Adrian inclined his head but said nothing.

Maelis crossed without ceremony. That left only Lara.

She was the last to step forward. She paused at the portal’s edge, the violet light casting shifting shadows across her features. For a brief moment, she looked at Adrian, not with suspicion or calculation, but something closer to fear.

Her thoughts were in chaos. At this point, even the portal no longer shocked her. Not truly. This was yet another divine concept Adrian was displaying, one that should have left her stunned. But after witnessing him wield authority without the limits of a domain while in his energy form, her mind was already overwhelmed.

She had seen things today that defied everything she thought she understood about cultivation. About power. About what was possible.

All she wanted right now was to see her master.

Lara stepped into the portal.

The violet light swallowed her, and she vanished.

The portal collapsed behind her, leaving Adrian alone with Marivelle in the silent garden.

…

Lara emerged inside the same chamber that housed the relic formation within the sect. The violet light faded behind her, leaving only the familiar hum of divine crystals powering the formation in the chamber. She blinked, adjusting to the sudden shift in mana density. The oppressive chaos of the relic world was gone, replaced by the controlled, sterile atmosphere of the Crimson Spire.

Without saying a word to anyone, Lara immediately moved toward the peak of the Crimson Spire, where the sect leader resided.

Torvain and Maelis followed closely behind.

Soon they reached the uppermost chamber.

The doors recognized their mana signature and parted without sound. They entered the chamber soon after.

Hestia, who was in a cross-legged position, hovering, sensed them instantly. The unstable essence that usually flickered across her damaged core had quieted somewhat, pulled inward through meditation.

She unfolded her legs and descended gracefully, her feet touching the ground as she looked at them. The lotus drew her attention first. Her eyes lingered on it for only a heartbeat before shifting to her disciples’ faces.

They were uninjured, healthy, and intact. This alone confirmed that Adrian had kept his word. With a peak Rule Stage being involved, she had already expected things to proceed smoothly.

But then she sensed something was wrong.

Their expressions were disturbed. They were not normal.

“What happened to you all?” Hestia asked.

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She did not ask about the Core-Reforging Lotus. She asked about them first.

Lara’s throat worked. She opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. When she finally spoke, her voice came out quieter than she intended.

“Master… I’m scared.”

Hestia’s eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at the others, who nodded in silent agreement. This genuinely surprised her.

She had raised these three since their childhood. Lara was found bleeding in the wreckage of a transport ship during a sect raid. Torvain was orphaned when his clan was wiped out by spatial storms. Maelis was abandoned at the sect gates as an infant with nothing but a torn blanket.

Over the years, they became her personal disciples, closer to her than anyone else. She regarded them as her own children. She knew them completely. She knew their courage, their resolve, and their limits.

But she had never seen them scared like this.

Even when they faced war and disaster, they had not been scared. Not truly. They had been cautious, determined, even desperate at times. But never afraid in this way.

“What happened?” Hestia asked again, her tone serious.

She materialized three sofa cushions from her spatial ring. “Sit. All of you.”

They obeyed automatically, muscle memory from decades of training overriding their current state. Lara settled onto the nearest cushion, still cradling the lotus. Torvain and Maelis took positions on either side of her.

Hestia remained standing, waiting.

Lara explained everything that had occurred within the relic. She did not omit a single detail. She spoke of the garden, the formation mind that nearly sacrificed everything. The battles against constructs and rival sect members.

And Adrian.

She described everything he had done, from his divine concepts to his energy body art.

Then she looked up at Hestia. “Master, I don’t understand what I witnessed. Nothing in our knowledge explains it. Not our manuals, not the forums, not anything.”

Hestia was silent. She had expected Adrian to wield a higher-tier divine concept, but not to possess the abilities Lara described.

The devour-based concept was concerning but manageable. Many cultivators throughout history had attempted to tame that particular set of rules, but most had failed. Some succeeded but lost themselves to hunger.

But the teleportation suggested mastery over multiple advanced spatial concepts. And that final energy body art alone was astonishing.

Energy body arts were rare. True energy body arts, not cheap imitations that simply converted flesh to elemental essence temporarily, were treasures guarded by only the most powerful sects.

For Adrian to possess one meant he either came from a lineage that predated modern sects, or he had backing far beyond what they initially assumed.

Lara continued, her voice dropping lower. “Master… shouldn’t this Adrian be connected to a great sect?”

Hestia nodded slowly. Someone like Adrian could not simply be classified as a member of a major sect anymore. Even major sects did not possess this kind of energy body art.

“Yes,” Hestia said. “He must be.”

Lara clenched her fists. “Master, based on his reliance on us for his people, he doesn’t seem to have high influence within his sect. If someone with limited influence in a great sect can wield methods like this, even authority without a domain… then what kind of existences truly reside within great sects at the top?”

The question struck the chamber like a physical blow.

Torvain and Maelis tensed. Neither had voiced it aloud, but the same thought had been circling their minds since they left the relic.

Hestia understood immediately their distress and fear.

They were not afraid of Adrian. Not personally. Adrian had protected them, healed them, and kept his word. He had shown them nothing but competence and restraint.

They were afraid of the unknown. They were afraid of the great sects.

Great sects had always been shrouded in mystery. Information about their combat methods was nearly impossible to obtain. Their techniques were never sold on public markets. Their disciples rarely left sect grounds unless on specific missions, and even then, a lesser minor sect like theirs could not even get to see them.

So until now, they had only assumed things. Assumptions built on rumors. On texts written by observers in the forum who had never set foot inside a great sect territory. On anonymous accounts from cultivators who claimed to have witnessed battles but could provide no proof.

But now, a representative of that world had stood before them, and that shattered their sense of scale.

They had touched the edge of something vast, and it made them realize how small they truly were. It made one feel insignificant.

Hestia studied Lara for a long moment, then exhaled slowly.

“You are not wrong to feel this way,” Hestia said quietly.

She moved to the chamber’s edge, where a viewport overlooking the sect grounds below opened as she stepped.

“What you experienced today was real. Power that existed only in rumors suddenly stood before you in flesh and blood. Anyone would feel shaken by that.”

She turned back to face them, hands clasped behind her back.

“But fear,” she continued, “must be understood before it is allowed to take root.”

Lara looked up, confusion flickering across her face.

“We have always known that great sects possess things beyond our reach. Forbidden arts, Inheritances untouched by time, Techniques that ignore common sense. We just never saw them.”

“Every cultivator knows this. It is why we strive to advance, why we seek breakthroughs, why we risk our lives in relics and wars.”

“The difference today is not that such power exists,” she said. “It is that it stood close enough for you to feel it.”

Lara’s jaw tightened. “But Master… if this is what someone with limited influence in a great sect can do—”

“Then it proves only one thing,” Hestia interrupted gently.

She raised a finger. “That the road above us is vast.”

Hestia continued, “Great sects stand above galaxies, command authority, rewrite rules, and look down on the rest of the universe as if it were dust, and yet, even they are still cultivators.”

She began pacing slowly, hands still clasped behind her back.

“They still cultivate because they are incomplete. They still seek power because they are unsatisfied. They still fear stagnation, because even they know one truth.”

“There is always something above.”

Maelis shifted slightly. “Master, are you saying even great sects are not at the peak?”

“Exactly.” Hestia’s expression softened. “Do you think great sects sit comfortably at the peak? No. Even they struggle to surpass the Heavenly Order. Even they fear falling behind. Even they are chased by existences they cannot afford to provoke.”

“Like us, even the Great sects war with each other constantly.”

“Why?” She paused. “Because they fear losing their position. They fear being surpassed. They fear the same thing we fear, being crushed by those stronger than themselves.”

Torvain frowned. “Then the hierarchy never ends?”

“Perhaps it does,” Hestia said. “Perhaps it doesn’t. No one alive knows for certain. But what I do know is this—”

She spread her hands. “History is filled with the ruins of great sects. Sects that believed themselves eternal, sects that thought no blade could reach them, sects that called themselves gods.”

“Where are they now?”

No one answered.

“They were destroyed. Erased, forgotten, and replaced.”

“All of them fell. All of them discovered that eternity is a lie told by the arrogant.”

“So do not fear great sects as impossible existences. They are not gods. They are merely cultivators who walked farther ahead.”

“And if the road continues upward for them, then it continues upward for us as well.”

Lara felt something shift inside her chest. The fear was still there, but it no longer felt suffocating.

Hestia smiled faintly, “Fear is something that everyone should have, but in this case, it does nothing for you. Whether you tremble or stand tall, death will come when it wishes.”

“So choose how you face it.”

Lara hesitated, then asked softly, “Master… do you truly have no fear?”

Hestia laughed quietly. The sound surprised all three disciples. It was rare to hear their master laugh. Even rarer to hear it sound so genuine, so unguarded.

“Who said I don’t have fear?”

“One who doesn’t have fear can never survive. I told you not to fear cultivators who simply walked farther ahead. But fear itself is the nature of all living beings. You cannot avoid it. Even now, your fear is natural, and overcoming it is part of life.”

“And I am no exception. I too have fear… Not once in a while. Every day, every minute, every second, I’m scared.”

Hestia continued, her voice taking on a distant quality, as if she were speaking to someone far away. “Hundreds of thousands of years ago, when I created this sect, I promised upon my clan people who died during our migration to this galaxy, that I would give my life to build the place we once dreamed of.”

Her fingers curled slightly. “We were refugees. We fled from our home galaxy because staying meant being livestock. We crossed the void between galaxies in ships that barely held together, losing thousands to spatial storms and pirate ambushes.”

“When we finally arrived here, only a fraction of our original number remained. And of those, most died in the first century trying to establish ourselves.”

“I was young then. But I made a promise to the dying. To the children who would never see adulthood, to the elders who sacrificed themselves so others could eat.”

“I promised I would build a place where our people could live without fear.”

She looked back at them, and her eyes carried a weight they had never seen before.

“But I know one thing for certain,” she said softly. “One day, for sure, death will come for me. And when it does, the fear that I might not have fulfilled that promise is what haunts me every single moment. That fear exists in every nerve of my body, even now.”

Lara and the others felt goosebumps spread across their skin. While they were fearing the unknown, the mysteries of great sects, and the possibility of being crushed, their master’s fear was different.

It was not fear for her own life; it was fear of failing a promise.

A promise made to the dead. A promise that could never be renegotiated or amended. A promise that would judge her at the moment of her death, when there was no more time left to make things right.

Hestia continued, her voice steady despite the weight of what she was saying. “Even though I work toward that promise every day, death will not care. It will come when it wishes. That is the nature of life. So I don’t expect to live infinitely, rather I have only one wish.”

“When I lose my life, there shouldn’t be any fear in my eyes. There should be a smile on my lips. My heart should be satisfied that I fulfilled my promise to the utmost possible limits of it, and a satisfaction that my disciples and people could take care of themselves. For that single heartbeat at the end, I want to feel the experience of not carrying this fear. That is my only selfish wish.”

The chamber fell silent.

Lara and the others shuddered. Their fear of the unknown suddenly felt small.

Compared to the weight their master carried every single moment of her life, their own fear barely mattered at all.

Lara felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them back, forcing herself to remain composed.

Torvain bowed his head. “Master, we—”

“Don’t apologize,” Hestia said, her voice returning to its usual firmness. “Your fear was natural. What matters is what you do with it now.”

She stepped forward and placed a hand on Lara’s shoulder. “You witnessed something beyond your understanding today. Good. That means you are still capable of growth. The moment you stop being surprised by power is the moment you stop advancing.”

She looked at Torvain and Maelis as well. “Remember what you saw. Let it fuel you. Let it remind you that the road continues upward, always.”

“But do not let it paralyze you.”

Hestia withdrew her hand and straightened. “Now. Tell me more about this Adrian. Everything. I need to understand exactly who we are dealing with.”

Lara nodded slowly, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She took a breath, steadying herself.

“Yes, Master.”

And she began again, this time with clearer eyes and a steadier voice.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep