Chapter 101

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Chapter 101: Title

"Why the sudden departure? Was there an urgent matter?" Zhan Yuan inquired, his curiosity evident.

"Must be pressing business. Have some refreshments," Meng Po suggested, producing a plate of delicate pastries. She understood perfectly – only an imperial summons could rattle Second Brother so.

"Many thanks, Sister Meng Po," Zhan Yuan chirped with practiced charm.

The underworld’s origins remained shrouded in mystery. Though legends portrayed Meng Po as a wizened crone, the figure before Zhan Yuan appeared no older than sixteen – a vision of eternal youth.

"Grandmother" felt woefully inappropriate. After careful consideration, "Sister" became his chosen address. He’d never dare inquire about her true age – weren’t feminine years meant to be veiled secrets?

Perhaps divine beings followed similar rules? Regardless, it hardly mattered. Provoking Meng Po over trivialities served no purpose.

"Eat," the ageless beauty urged, her smile masking inner contemplation about the Emperor’s summons.

"Little Yi, accompany your father for now."

Ghostly Mountain.

This spectral realm inspired dread in wandering spirits, its sanctity barring entry to all deities without express command.

At the palace gates, the Judge found Yama awaiting as anticipated.

"Shall we?" Yama gestured, their synchronized footsteps echoing through the hallowed halls.

"Any notion of His Majesty’s purpose?"

"None."

The two formidable entities who commanded trembling respect throughout the underworld now moved with uncharacteristic humility. Upon the obsidian throne sat an imperial vision – a regal woman clad in the Nine Mysterious Phoenix robe, her brow crowned by nine feathered tiers.

"We pay homage to Your Imperial Majesty." Their synchronized bow radiated reverence.

"Rise." The Empress’s voice resonated with authority, her gesture fluid yet commanding. "We convene you concerning forthcoming affairs."

"Your will guides us."

"We shall soon depart the underworld. During Our absence, governance falls to your joint stewardship."

"Your Majesty’s departure – does peril threaten?" Yama’s concern leaked through formal cadence.

Unknown to common spirits, they understood the truth – this imperial presence on Ghostly Mountain manifested merely as a projection containing forty percent of Her Majesty’s divine essence, crucial for maintaining underworld equilibrium.

"Peace, loyal servant. We merely answer a summons."

"Might We inquire…?" The Judge hesitated. "Not from presumption, Majesty, but the underworld without Your presence…"

Obsidian eyes regarded her vassals. "Common courtesy calls. Yet… should events align with Our foresight, this avatar may exhaust its reserves, requiring recuperative dormancy."

Twin hearts constricted at the implication. Temporary slumber, however brief, carried unsettling implications.

"The realm knows tranquility. Judge and I shall maintain flawless order," Yama vowed with steel conviction.

The Empress shook her crowned head, uttering words that would haunt her subordinates: "Should opposition prove insurmountable… relinquish control."

Emerging from the imperial chamber, the cryptic command echoed through their thoughts. Relinquish control? Within their domain, bound by the world’s immutable laws – what force could possibly challenge their authority?

"Old friend," the Judge murmured, eyeing his counterpart. "Have you deciphered Her Majesty’s meaning?"

"There’s nothing amiss, merely an ill foreboding," Yama replied with a bitter chuckle. At their celestial rank, intuitive premonitions often proved truer than prophetic visions.

An ill foreboding… Whatever might transpire would assuredly bring no good tidings.

"How dire might it be?"

"…Recall that classic film we viewed last weekend? The Journey to the West adaptation… This sensation feels akin to the underworld being overturned…" Yama’s voice trailed off ominously.

"You must be joking?!" The Judge blanched, reflexively clutching his Book of Life and Death tighter. The cinematic depiction of its violent destruction remained etched in his memory.

"Would I jest about such matters?" Yama sighed wearily.

"You overestimate these mortals. The human realm’s mightiest barely reach Tier Two. Even those few capable of breaching our domain lack the audacity for such chaos."

"The underworld remains our domain. Though His Majesty absents himself, no mere mortal could overturn it," the Judge asserted after contemplation.

"May your confidence prove justified."

Within the spectral palace crowning Ghostly Mountain, the Empress swept her sleeve through the empty chamber. A sinister seal of Black Jade materialized midair, its obsidian surface writhing with carved demonic visages that glared maliciously from every angle.

Gradually, the Black Jade Seal turned translucent before vanishing completely, returning to its eternal resting place.

*

Dark Council Headquarters, Bear Country

"Has hell responded? What news?" Atalans pressed Shiviel, concern etching his features regarding Hein’s solitary mission.

This demon companion discovered after decades of solitude warranted concern, regardless of their current disbanded fellowship. For a demon navigating the unfamiliar human realm without guidance… Atalans’ worry came naturally.

"A reply from Lord Mammon himself," Shiviel announced, parchment crackling in his grip.

"Lady Lilith has descended to the human realm on Abyssal affairs. The Son’s instructions are clear – Hein must seek her audience. She possesses means to aid him."

"His mission timeline extends, but completion remains imperative."

Atalans nodded. "I’ll dispatch word, but how shall Hein locate Lady Lilith?"

"She disdains subtlety," Shiviel remarked, strapping on his armaments. "With limited hellgates active, I’ll trace her path. Hein’s too intriguing to lose to holy purification."

"Last reported in France?"

"Confirmed."

Kingdom of England, Presidential Suite

The crimson-clad figure lounged regally, swirling blood-dark wine as she regarded her uninvited guest. Black tresses cascaded over the sofa like spilled ink.

"Cain’s spies prove efficient," Lilith purred, scarlet lips curling. Barely a day since her arrival, yet the blood clans’ network had sniffed her out.

Wealth circulated information faster than blood through veins, exposing their kind’s deep-rooted infiltration. Western fools remained oblivious even as ancient rulers traded mortality for vampiric eternity, transforming entire dynasties to cement their power.

Modern blood clans defied legend’s weaknesses – silver mere irritant, sunlight discomfort rather than destruction. Only blessed sanctity held threat: hallowed waters and priests’ invocations. Yet in this enlightened age, plasma banks negated hunting needs. No murders meant even clerics couldn’t arbitrarily destroy law-abiding immortals.

Sustained not by hemoglobin but arcane potency, they’d forged their own Cultivation System – the elegant cruelties of Blood Magic.

However, turning new blood clan members requires sacrificing half of one’s blood reserves, leaving the progenitor weakened and diminished in power. This stringent transformation process naturally limits excessive proliferation of their kind.

"Did Cain dispatch you fledglings to serve at my pleasure?" Lady Lilith arched upward, ebony locks tumbling over alabaster shoulders. The plunging neckline of her long dress threatened to spill its treasures with every calculated movement.

The blood clansmen before her were the picture of propriety, their gazes fixed resolutely on polished boots. Though newly turned, they’d done their research – this ancient witch’s beauty hid venomous fangs. Their sire’s warning echoed fresh: "Gaze upon fair maidens and greet your demise."

"Your will is ours, Lady Lilith."

"Our progenitor commanded absolute obedience to your orders," the lead clansman murmured, neck bent in deference.

"Clever boy," she purred, gliding toward floor-length windows. "Fetch every scrap of intelligence on the Abyss. And clear these halls of unnecessary… distractions."

"At once." The youth departed without hesitation.

France, Augustus’ stronghold.

Atalans’ letter burned in Hein’s pocket. With Loral’s increasingly probing stares each evening, he dared only read it by daylight when the maid finished cleaning.

*Infiltration mission ongoing… Prolong this charade and I’ll become cat stew. Lady Lilith’s arrival in the human realm presents opportunity – her power could mask my essence.*

Hein’s claws unsheathed involuntarily. Two days until Michael’s visitation. If the archangel pierced his disguise… Would Loral face censure? Irrelevant. His own obliteration was certain.

*Shiviel’s swiftness required. Summon aid.*

The black cat glared at the silent phone. Trusting that irreverent dark fairy felt like gambling with hellfire. When the device finally rang, Hein nearly toppled from his perch.

"Speak civilized tongues!" he hissed at the fairy-language greeting.

"Caution never hurt anyone," Shiviel’s drawl emerged. "I’m at your gates, kitten. Come claim your guest."

Hein’s fur bristled. The insolent sprite stood visible only to magical sight, smirking at security cameras.

"So it’s true!" Shiviel crouched, eyeing the feline’s diminutive form. "The mighty Hein reduced to mewling infancy. How… undignified."

"Cease prattling!" The cat’s tail lashed. "Can you locate Lady Lilith or not?"

"Patience, furball." The dark fairy phased through iron gates. "Cain’s brood revealed her Parisian nest. But teleporting through this sanctified cesspool…" He wrinkled his nose at the pervasive holy light. "Best done quickly."

The tower’s highest chamber provided temporary sanctuary. Freed from pretense, Hein spat, "I requested Lance!"

"Your nursemaid’s occupied." Shiviel suddenly hoisted him by the scruff. "Adorable. Stay like this."

A clawed swipe barely missed his nose. "Release me, you overgrown moth!"

"Tsk. All claws and no charm." The fairy dropped him carelessly. "We move at moonrise. Best return before your precious Son notices his pet’s absence."

Hein’s ears flattened. "This is no jest! If Michael discovers—"

"Then cease yowling and prepare." Shiviel’s grin turned predatory. "Though I do fancy meeting this future convert…"

"Focus!" The demon-cat’s hackles rose. "To Lady Lilith, then back before matins. No detours!"

"Ever the obedient hound." The fairy’s laughter echoed through stone corridors. "Come, then. Let’s hunt a witch."