Chapter 181: Cloud Empire (2)

The silence of the Core Hall, broken only by the low pulse of the fortress’s blood heart, was filled by the final echo of Dong Zhen’s words.

Five pairs of eyes were fixed on the chosen leader.

Kyrian picked up the map that Dong Zhen had thrown earlier. He looked at it and engraved it into his mind before Dong Zhen had completely disappeared from his sight. The order had been given. The time to depart was now.

He turned, his movement fluid and deliberate, breaking the silence and the group’s paralysis. For the first time since the tournament, Kyrian’s crimsom eyes swept over each of the five disciples, truly observing them.

In front of him stood Bai Zhu, a young man who looked like a human colossus, with broad shoulders that almost tore the seams of his military red robe. His black hair, cut short, looked like steel barbs.

His face, marked by a prominent forehead and a square jaw, was congested with an impotent scowl. His eyes, the color of dirty amber, burned with a certain resentment, but his fists were clenched at his sides with determination.

Kyrian defined him as brute force personified, strong and stupid. But still someone who would follow the orders of his superiors.

Beside him, Li Fen possessed a faint presence. His jet-black hair, similar to Kyrian’s, fell straight to his shoulders, framing a sharp, pale, almost sickly face.

His features were crisp, almost sharp, and his eyes were extremely dark. No emotion. He seemed merely a faint presence, but vigilant and cold.

A step behind, Yan Ling maintained a perfect posture. Her dark brown hair, the color of damp earth, was tied in a bun at the nape of her neck. Her face was serious, with regular and precise features. A functional beauty.

Her eyes were light brown and piercing, never stopping, analyzing Kyrian, then the others, then the hall, then Kyrian again.

She seemed to want to say something, her fingers interlaced in front of her body.

At her side, Kai seemed out of place, like an ordinary man among prodigies. His hair was faded brown and unkempt. A scar crossed his chin, the only distinct mark on an otherwise common, weathered face.

His eyes, a dull gray, observed everything with a hint of weariness. Despite that, he was relaxed, his shoulders slightly slouched.

And finally, Mei Li. She looked like a crimsom flower in a field of war. Her hair was black with reddish tips that fell in perfect waves over her shoulders.

Her face, among the five, was like a work of art, perfectly symmetrical and delicate, with thin lips always curved in a polished smile that never reached her eyes.

Those eyes, a reddish-brown hue, studied Kyrian with interest.

“Prepare everything you need for the journey.” Kyrian’s voice cut through the air, clear and flat, leaving zero room for questioning.

It was not a request. But a repetition of Dong Zhen’s orders; now Kyrian possessed new authority, and he would act as such.

“And gather here again in fifteen minutes. Then we depart.”

He did not wait for confirmations. He simply turned again, his main branch robes fluttering lightly, and left the hall with firm steps that echoed against the black stone.

The fifteen minutes passed quickly as the five left for their quarters.

Kyrian did little; his possessions were already in his spatial ring. He spent the final minutes in the inner courtyard, looking at the dark clouds surrounding the fortress, feeling the limit of his eyes as a constant marker of time.

Precisely fifteen minutes later, the six were gathered in the same place. No delays.

Without a word, Kyrian gestured with his head and led the group toward the stables.

In the enclosure of his black horse, the creature already seemed to sense him. Its large, intelligent eyes gleamed in the dimness, and it stomped a hoof on the ground, looking impatient.

Kyrian approached, running his hand along the beast’s velvety neck.

“I’ll speak with Dong Zhen for you to be my official mount,” Kyrian murmured, more to himself than to the animal.

The horse turned its head, its nostrils snorting a cloud of warm vapor into the cold stable air as if saying ’finally.’

“I’ll give you a name.” Kyrian paused, his crimsom eyes meeting the beast’s deep, black gaze.

“Your name will be… Arcon.”

The winged horse neighed, a clear, almost musical sound that echoed off the stone, lifting its head with sudden dignity. It stomped its hoof again, once, an obvious acceptance.

Kyrian mounted it fluidly. When he turned, he saw the other five already atop their mounts.

They were Crimsom War Ravens, majestic and deadly birds twice the size of Kyrian’s horse.

Their feathers were as black as a starless night, with a metallic bluish sheen. Their beaks and talons, however, were the color of coagulated blood. A dark, threatening red.

Beasts at the early stage of the Core Formation realm were granted only to the most promising of the Court, symbols of status.

Each of the beasts seemed to reflect its owner. Bai Zhu’s was larger, with an aggressive gaze. Li Fen’s was silent, with smooth movements. Yan Ling’s was alert, with piercing eyes. Kai’s was discreet but bore old battle scars on its claws. Mei Li appeared graceful, with delicate feathers and a smaller size.

Without a verbal command, just a light press of his heels and a clear intent, Kyrian made Arcon take flight.

The black beast took off with a powerful beat of its wings that kicked dust from the ground. One by one, the five Crimsom War Ravens followed, their hoarse caws forming a sinister chorus that dissipated as they broke into the gray sky above the fortress, passing through the formation barrier with ease.

The journey settled into a moderate rhythm, perfect for long-distance flight.

Kyrian led, a dark silhouette against darker clouds, the map of the Cloud Empire rising in his mind.

He ordered descents every two days in hidden clearings or rocky lake shores.

Then he fed the beasts with spirit stones, Kyrian providing them from his reserves without hesitation; it was an investment in the mission’s speed.

Conversation among the five floated through the air, projected with threads of Qi to overcome the howling wind. They spoke of techniques, of rumors about the empire, and of past auctions. Kyrian remained an island of silence the entire time, but he was listening, observing, and evaluating, his attention more focused on commanding the path.

It was on the third day, during a particularly foggy morning, that a sensation crystallized in Kyrian’s mind.

A strange weight arose. The unmistakable sensation of a fixed gaze, laden with an attention so intense it crossed kilometers. His soul, now polished and far more sensitive, vibrated in alarm.

“A guardian?” he murmured, his words torn away by the wind.

His head turned, not with a sudden movement that would betray alarm, but slowly as he calculated where the sensation came from.

His crimsom eyes narrowed, sweeping the blanket of clouds and the empty sky behind them.

And then, he saw it. Not with ordinary eyes like the others, but with his vision that perceived blood flow.

At a distance, that would be an invisible dot to any of the others present, a silhouette. A man wrapped in a cloak of such dark red that it was almost black, forming a flaw in the texture of the sky.

Below him was another flying beast that moved silently like a shadow, a ghost.

Kyrian focused. Blood flow. That was what differentiated Blood Eyes from the rest. And what he saw surprised him. The flow in that man’s body was… minimal. Slow, weak, and meticulously controlled in a state close to hibernation or death.

Kyrian also could not sense his strength. It was a level of bodily and spiritual control that was terrifying. A concealment technique of the shadow branch taken to its utmost extreme.

An almost imperceptible smile touched Kyrian’s lips. Of course. Dong Zhen was no fool. Sending six of the most promising disciples without insurance? That was the guardian. The safety net that would only appear if something truly serious happened.

At the exact moment Kyrian’s analysis fixed on him, the silhouette moved its head. Its eyes crossed the distance and met Kyrian’s gaze.

And then, Kyrian noticed it, the guardian’s perfectly controlled blood flow trembled. A tiny vibration of pure surprise.

’He… that little monster sensed me. He actually saw me.’

Kyrian turned forward again, a cold satisfaction settling in.

“Something wrong, leader?” Yan Ling’s voice, clear and projected, reached his ears. She, who watched him more than the others, had noticed his movement.

“Nothing,” Kyrian replied without turning.

“Maintain formation. Do not slow the pace.”

Bai Zhu, who also glanced back and saw only the vast emptiness, grumbled something that was lost to the wind.

…

At the end of the fourth day, Kyrian ordered everyone to land again.

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