Kaevryn watched the Crimson Vital Sect’s starship depart from the docking platforms of the Thousand Veils Sect headquarters. The vessel moved steadily away from the colossal structure before merging into the regulated spatial lanes beyond the artificial sky. For several moments he remained standing there, his gaze following the shrinking ship until it disappeared among the streams of traffic.

His thoughts, however, were far from calm. The events of the trial replayed repeatedly in his mind, each memory raising new questions rather than answers. The more he analyzed what he had seen during the confrontation between Nightshade and Adrian, the more impossible the situation appeared. The questions refused to settle, and eventually he turned away from the platform and made his way back toward the inner chambers.

He moved quickly through the corridors of the massive structure until he arrived once again at the conference room where the negotiation had taken place.

The doors parted at his approach, responding to his elder token.

When Kaevryn entered the chamber, he saw that the Sect Leader had not yet departed. Nightshade remained seated exactly where the negotiations had occurred earlier, his posture relaxed as if nothing unusual had happened at all. If someone had entered the chamber without knowing the events that had transpired, they might have believed the Sect Leader had been sitting there peacefully the entire time.

Kaevryn approached and bowed respectfully. “Sect Leader.”

Nightshade turned his head slightly in acknowledgment, though he offered no immediate response.

Kaevryn hesitated for only a moment before speaking again. The questions pressing against his mind had refused to quiet themselves since the trial had concluded, and now that they were alone, he could no longer restrain them.

“Sect Leader… there is something I cannot understand,” he began carefully. “During the trial just now, Elder Adrian evaded every single one of your attacks while you were concealed by your authority technique. Your concealment remained active throughout the entire exchange, and at no point did he negate it. Yet even under those conditions, he avoided every attempt you made to reach him.”

“I am deeply familiar with the concealment authority technique you used. Without negation, it should be impossible for anyone to perceive your position while it is active. Given those circumstances… how was such a thing possible?”

Nightshade remained silent for several seconds, watching Kaevryn calmly.

Encouraged to continue, Kaevryn spoke again, organizing the thoughts he had already turned over countless times since the confrontation ended.

“I have considered several possibilities since the trial concluded,” he said. “During the confrontation, Elder Adrian revealed comprehension of multiple arcane concepts such as Time, Shadow, and Space. That alone marks him as an extraordinary cultivator. Individuals with such breadth of comprehension rarely come from insignificant backgrounds.”

He paused, choosing his words with care. “If he truly originates from one of the major sects beyond this galaxy, then it would not be unreasonable to assume that he possesses authority techniques far beyond anything minor sects like ours could develop.”

“We know that certain major sects possess divine concepts specifically designed to counter concealment-based techniques,” Kaevryn continued. “There are authority techniques capable of piercing layered veils, unraveling distortion fields, or exposing the hidden movements of assassins who have perfectly concealed themselves. Because of that… I began to wonder whether Elder Adrian might possess some form of authority technique specifically designed to perceive through concealment, something capable of directly countering the concealment authority techniques used by our sect.”

The explanation sounded reasonable even to his own ears. It accounted for everything he had witnessed. A specialized technique developed by a major sect would explain Adrian’s seemingly impossible performance.

Silence filled the chamber once again.

Nightshade finally spoke. “It is not that simple.”

Kaevryn straightened slightly, listening carefully.

“When an authority technique is active,” Nightshade said slowly, “there are only two reliable methods for bypassing it. One is negation, where one’s authority directly overrides the technique. The other is to employ a separate authority technique specifically designed to counter the first. As you mentioned, major sects do indeed possess such countermeasures.”

He paused briefly before continuing. “But that is not what happened here.”

Kaevryn frowned faintly.

“If Elder Adrian had used an authority technique to see through my concealment, I would have noticed it immediately,” Nightshade explained calmly, “Reality itself normally prevents cultivators from directly perceiving the rule modifications occurring during an authority technique. However, the effects cannot be completely hidden.”

“Experienced cultivators like us can still detect the presence of such techniques through surrounding mana fluctuations, subtle distortions in reality, or slight shifts in authority distribution within the domain. No matter how refined a technique may be, traces always exist.”

Kaevryn nodded slowly. This was fundamental knowledge, authority techniques left ripples in the fabric of reality and the one standing within the enemies domain can easily see it.

Nightshade looked directly at Kaevryn, “But when I faced Adrian… there were no such traces. There was no indication whatsoever that another authority technique had been activated.”

“He did not use an authority technique.”

For a moment, Kaevryn simply stared at him, his mind refusing to accept what he had just heard.

“That… is impossible,” he said finally, the words emerging almost involuntarily.

Nightshade did not respond.

Kaevryn inhaled slowly, attempting to reorganize his thoughts. “If he did not negate your technique… and he did not use an authority technique of his own…”

His voice trailed off as the logical conclusion loomed before him, impossible yet inescapable. “Then how did he perceive you?”

The question hung in the air between them, unanswered.

Kaevryn shook his head faintly, struggling to reconcile the idea with everything he understood about cultivation. “Sect Leader… if he truly did not use an authority technique, then what we witnessed means he stood against your authority technique the way a mortal stands before a god.”

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“When a god alters reality, that alteration becomes the truth for those beneath them. Mortals cannot perceive beyond it because reality itself enforces the change. If that principle holds true… then how could he possibly see through it?”

Nightshade’s gaze drifted briefly toward the far wall of the chamber. “I do not know,” he admitted quietly.

The confession startled Kaevryn more than anything else that had been said. The Sect Leader rarely admitted ignorance about anything related to cultivation.

“But I am certain of one thing,” Nightshade continued, his eyes still fixed on the distant wall. “Whatever he used to perceive me… it was stronger than reality.”

The words hung heavily in the air.

Kaevryn’s mind recoiled instinctively from the implication. His hands tightened at his sides as he processed what had just been said.

Stronger than reality?

The idea itself sounded absurd.

“That cannot exist,” he said slowly, shaking his head as if the physical gesture could dismiss the notion entirely. “If anything truly existed that was stronger than reality itself, then it would have to surpass the Heavenly Order.”

Every cultivator in the universe knew of the Heavenly Order. It defined the universe’s rules, governed arcane concepts, and structured the entirety of reality from the movement of galaxies down to the formation of essence seeds within cultivators’ bodies.

The Heavenly Order was absolute. To surpass it would mean stepping beyond the boundaries of reality itself.

Kaevryn voiced the inevitable conclusion, his voice barely above a whisper, “Would that not imply transcendence? Yet Elder Adrian is only a Peak Rule Stage cultivator. He has not even reached the Astral Stage.”

The contradiction was fundamental. Transcendence represented the ultimate goal of all cultivation, the final step that no one in recorded history had ever achieved. Even the great sects, with their billions of years of accumulated knowledge and their most powerful cultivators, had never produced a being who transcended.

And yet they were discussing the possibility that a Peak Rule Stage cultivator might possess something that surpassed reality itself.

Nightshade’s expression remained unreadable. “That,” he replied quietly, “is precisely what confuses me.”

He fell silent for a moment, his gaze lowering slightly as the memory resurfaced in his mind with uncomfortable clarity.

“When I looked into his eyes…” Nightshade began, then stopped, searching for words that refused to come easily.

Kaevryn waited.

“I saw something,” Nightshade finally said, “It was… profound, Something vast and impossible to fully grasp. Even now, I find myself unable to properly describe it.”

“It felt ancient,” Nightshade added after a moment. “Far older than anything I have encountered. And yet simultaneously… it felt like the beginning of something. Like standing at the edge of creation itself.”

Kaevryn remained silent, unsure how to respond to such a description.

After a moment, Nightshade looked back at Kaevryn, “Tell me something.”

“If you reject my explanation,” Nightshade continued calmly, “then offer another. Elder Adrian saw through my concealment without negation and without employing an authority technique of his own. He reacted to my movements as though he could perceive them clearly.”

“Furthermore, his reactions were not delayed. He did not stumble or hesitate. He moved with complete certainty, as if my concealment did not exist at all.”

“It was almost as if he was seeing directly through reality itself. And even more strangely… it felt as though reality allowed him to do so.”

Silence filled the chamber once again, thick and oppressive.

Kaevryn could not offer an answer. No matter how he turned the problem within his mind, examining it from every angle he could conceive, he could not construct a logical explanation that accounted for all the observations.

Every possibility he considered collapsed under scrutiny.

If Adrian had used negation, Nightshade would have sensed the authority clash immediately. If Adrian had employed an authority technique, traces would have been visible. If Adrian possessed superior perception through natural means, it would not have functioned against an active authority technique that literally altered reality itself.

The only remaining explanation was the one Nightshade had offered, that Adrian possessed something stronger than reality.

But that explanation was impossible. Kaevryn’s thoughts spiraled in circles, chasing answers that refused to materialize.

After several minutes passed in quiet contemplation, Kaevryn finally spoke again. “What are we going to do about this… Sect Leader?”

Nightshade suddenly chuckled softly, the sound incongruous against the weight of their conversation. “What can we do in the first place?” he replied with faint amusement threading through his words. “We may be one of the strongest minor sects within this galaxy, but even we cannot stand against something like that.”

Kaevryn considered that for a moment before speaking again, his voice hesitant. “Should we… inform the other upper minor sects?”

The question was logical. If Adrian represented a potential threat, or even just an unknown variable of such magnitude, the other powerful sects deserved to know.

“No.”

The answer came without hesitation.

“We have signed a contract with the Crimson Vital Sect,” Nightshade continued, “That contract binds us to favorable terms for five hundred years. Whatever Adrian’s true nature might be, he has shown no hostility toward us. Quite the opposite, he has provided us access to resources we desperately need.”

He stood from his chair, shadows swirling briefly around his form before settling into stillness.

“Furthermore,” Nightshade added, moving toward the window that overlooked the vast expanse of their headquarters, “if what I suspect is true, then Adrian is not someone we can afford to antagonize. If he truly possesses power beyond our comprehension, then our best course of action is to maintain cordial relations and avoid drawing unnecessary attention.”

The logic was sound, presented with the same careful reasoning Nightshade applied to all strategic decisions.

Kaevryn nodded slowly, understanding the wisdom in the approach even if the situation remained deeply unsettling. “That makes sense.”

Nightshade’s expression grew more serious. “Pass a notice to the entire sect. No one is to accept missions targeting the Crimson Vital Sect. Ensure that we do not end up on their bad side.”

“Understood,” Kaevryn replied immediately.

“The Crimson Vital Sect appeared to be nothing more than a small alchemy sect until now,” Nightshade continued, “Yet they concealed an existence like that within their ranks. We have no idea what else they might be hiding.”

“It is possible that Adrian is not the only anomaly they possess. Sect Leader Hestia herself is already a terrifying individual. She created her own divine concept and ascended to Peak Rule Stage through her own efforts, something that typically requires backing from major sects or extraordinary fortune and potential.”

“Now they have also gained Adrian. Two Peak Rule Stage cultivators in a sect that was nearly destroyed just months ago. That alone defies normal patterns of development.”

His gaze hardened slightly as he turned back toward Kaevryn. “No one will be able to stop the rise of the Crimson Vital Sect. It is only a matter of time before they become one of the strongest minor sects in this galaxy. It would be far wiser to form an alliance with them while they are still in the early stages of their ascent.”

Kaevryn understood immediately. At present, the Crimson Vital Sect was only a lesser minor sect and had not even reached upper minor status. Their UNI-Market Index hovered around fifty-four points, far below the eighty required for upper minor classification.

Yet with the individuals now present within that sect, Hestia with her self-created divine concept, Adrian with his incomprehensible abilities, and whatever other secrets they might possess, their rise was inevitable.

Eventually, they would not only reach upper minor status but likely become one of the most influential and strongest minor sects within the Andromeda Galaxy.

By establishing favorable relations now, while they still needed allies and resources, the Thousand Veils Sect could secure a position of mutual benefit before the Crimson Vital Sect’s power made such arrangements unnecessary.

It was the kind of long-term strategic thinking that had kept the Thousand Veils Sect thriving for six million years.

Kaevryn bowed respectfully, “I will pass the order to the entire sect, Sect Leader.”

“Good,” Nightshade acknowledged with a slight nod.

With that, Kaevryn turned and exited the conference chamber, the doors sealing silently behind him as he departed to carry out his instructions.

Nightshade remained alone in the vast chamber, the shadows responding to his presence by deepening slightly in the corners of the room.

His gaze lingered on the far wall, unfocused, as the memory of Adrian’s eyes returned to him once more with uncomfortable clarity.

He murmured quietly to himself, the words barely audible in the empty chamber, “What… are you?”

The question received no answer, lost in the silence of the conference room.

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