The scarlet glow from ceremony lanterns had faded into a dim hum across Ember Pearl City's skies. While music and wine lulled dignitaries into pleasantries, deeper currents stirred beneath the flame-glass terraces.
Beneath it all, in a chamber etched with imperial warding and sunstone sigils, Ronald Hewitt was escorted in silence. No echo greeted him—only stillness carefully maintained.
Emperor Phillip, robed in ceremonial violet trimmed with phoenix-thread, sat behind a crescent-shaped table adorned with a single cup of jade-spiced wine. His expression was unreadable, but his presence—like the tide—left no room to breathe.
Ronald bowed with measured precision.
Phillip gestured calmly. "Be at ease."
Wine was poured. Chatter began lightly. Politeness gave way to protocol. Toasts became needles. And then:
"Tell me, Patriarch," Phillip said softly, "what do you know of Jalen Hewitt?"
Ronald's breath paused—only for a moment. He expected this question. Lord Flare had informed him it would come. He advised that he speak the truth.
"Jalen was born into our estate—technically a servant's child. We knew him, yes, but never watched him closely. His cultivation appeared dormant. Months ago, he vanished. We presumed death. And then… he resurfaced."
Phillip studied him.
"Explain to me how a servant's son holds the power of a Star Realm—at fifteen in a continent that is said to be a wasteland.
"Explain to me," Phillip said, voice like tempered steel, "how a servant's son—born in a forgotten corner of a dying continent—now wields the power of the Star Realm. A Realm even higher than all the leading powers of his families. At fifteen."
"I don't know, your majesty. When he left, we believed him to be Ruby Realm. Now?" Ronald hesitated. "He stands leagues beyond any known progression. We don't know how."
"Does he have a master?"
"Not that we're aware."
"Family ties?" Phillip's voice sharpened.
"His mother departed left to joined an external sect."
Phillip's fingers paused mid-stir of his wine. "Which sect?"
"The Sabre Sect, Your Majesty."
A pause. Even the air stilled.
That name, spoken aloud, wasn't just dangerous—it was tectonic.
Phillip's eyes narrowed. "You're certain?"
"She was accepted decades ago. The last we heard, she passed preliminary rites."
The Emperor leaned back, thoughtful.
"Then the boy may carry some tie with the Sabre Sect through his mother."
"I can't say for certain. What I do know is that she left Jalen's father behind fifteen years ago—back when he was considered worthless. Jalen was just an infant then, barely old enough to be remembered."
"You said he was useless?" The emperor arched his brow. "What of him now?"
"Yes, your majesty. Just a few months ago, the boy's father had not only restored his cultivation, but he now stood at the peak of the diamond realm."
This fascinates the emperor; he has no doubt that was all Jalen's doing. "Where is he now?"
"I don't know; he left the family shortly after he caused a commotion in another family."
"I see."
Phillip observed him. Closely.
No heartbeat shifted. No qi pulse lied.
And slowly, the Emperor nodded.
"You are dismissed."
Ronald bowed deeper this time—knowing full well he had survived a storm masked as a glass of wine.
After he left, another stepped in—no escort needed.
Young. Dressed in imperial moon-thread. And carrying the same chill as winter beneath silk.
Phillip didn't turn. "I see you were eavesdropping."
"I listened."
This was Paul Ember Pearl, the previous emperor. Phillip's father. Still at peak power. Still watching the game.
"If you're this curious about that Jalen boy," Paul said, stepping beside the table, "why waste time grilling that bug? Why not drag the boy in yourself?"
"So you were at the ceremony too."
"Yes, I was. And speaking of ceremony, your son Kia came to me. He wanted to add Rana Flare to his collection."
Phillip's face soured. "That spoiled child. Doesn't he already have a thousand beauties?"
"He's an Ember Pearl. Beautiful women are never enough."
"The girl has a fiancé. That boy Jalen."
"Since when has that stopped anyone in our bloodline?"
"The Flares won't bend."
"They're a second-rate family. It should be their honor."
"A second-rate family with influence," Phillip responded.
"Simon is just one low level Imperial realm cultivator."
"And Rana Flare still has a fiancé."
"We could just remove the boy."
"And what if he's connected to the Sabre Sect?"
"You heard that bug; the boy's mother abandoned him and his father. This means his only connection is a mere Hewitt family, who we can stomp out with a foot, and the Flare family."
"You may be right, but something about that boy still unsettles me."
"You're just intrigued by the boy's cultivation speed. You want to know what methods he used to grow so fast to use for yourself to improve beyond the imperial realm, right?"
"I thought you'd be interested in this as well, Father," Phillip retorted.
"I am. which cultivator wouldn't be. But I'm sure he won't tell us."
"He told Simon Flare and his daughter. I'm sure he's the reason they got so strong in such a short time."
"Then how about we take the girl and force the boy to tell us the truth?"
Phillip stood and looked out at the city.
"I could. But it would cost too much. The Flares wouldn't kneel. The other clans might see this as an opportunity to overthrow us. And what if the boy's tied to the Sabre Sect?"
Paul chuckled.
"Since you're overthinking things as you usually do. Why not let the three great clans chase him first? Let them bleed. Then… we take what's left."
Phillip nodded slowly. "Now that sounds like a plan."
Paul smiled as he turned to leave. "If he's worth protecting, he's worth spilling blood over."