The System's blaring red alert, "WARNING! HIGH-THREAT ENTITY DETECTED: The Obsidian Hand," pulsed in Kenji Tanaka's mind, but its urgency was matched by the chilling stillness of the cloaked figure who had just met his gaze. The figure, a high-ranking delegate from the Obsidian Hand's seemingly innocuous presence at the Conclave of Unified Orders, had offered a subtle, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment before melting back into the swirling throng of cultivators in the main assembly hall of Silverhaven. That nod was a silent declaration of war. They knew he was here. And they knew he was watching.
Kenji's heart hammered against his ribs, not from fear, but from the icy certainty of danger. His Qi Condensation Level 4 cultivation hummed with a heightened awareness. He subtly activated his Stealth Skill , attempting to blend further into the background, to become an unnoticeable shadow amidst the vibrant array of robes and auras. He needed to observe. He needed to understand the scope of their presence here.
He used his Soul Sense (Basic), pushing his spiritual perception to its limits. He filtered through the myriad of spiritual signatures in the hall, focusing on the subtle, discordant energy he now associated with the Obsidian Hand. It was a cold, draining aura, subtly infused with the void-like essence of the forbidden arcane ritual. He found faint traces of this energy on several other figures—discreetly dressed cultivators who moved with the same unsettling fluidity as the initial delegate, their auras deliberately suppressed. The Obsidian Hand was not just a delegate; they were a lurking shadow within the Conclave.
His Rune Analysis Skill also proved invaluable. As he discreetly observed the primary cloaked delegate, he noticed faint, almost invisible runes woven into the very fabric of their dark robes. These were not defensive runes, but intricate, complex patterns identical to the remnants of the forbidden arcane ritual Master Thorne had been caught in. They pulsed with a subtle, siphoning energy, hinting at a constant connection to the void, a grim testament to their insidious methods.
As Kenji tracked the cloaked figure through the bustling hall, the delegate suddenly stopped. It turned its head slowly, almost deliberately, its gaze sweeping across the crowd. Kenji froze, his Stealth Skill pushed to its maximum, his breath held. He hoped he was invisible to their Qi senses.
Then, the figure's head tilted slightly, its void-like eyes, barely visible beneath the hood, piercing directly through the throng, locking onto Kenji's concealed form. A powerful, silent force slammed into Kenji's mind—a telepathic warning, cold and vast, like a whisper from the cosmic void itself. It wasn't a roar of anger, but a chilling current of ancient intellect, utterly devoid of emotion, yet filled with an undeniable threat.
"You are seen, little spark. Your curiosity is… noted. Meddle not in what you do not comprehend." The voice echoed directly in his consciousness, bypassing his ears, resonating in the deepest parts of his soul. It was accompanied by a subtle, almost imperceptible spiritual pressure that caused Kenji's True Aetherial Roots Qi to flicker wildly in a startled defensive response.
The pressure lasted only a second, then vanished as quickly as it came. The cloaked figure turned its head away, resuming its slow, deliberate movements through the crowd, as if nothing had happened. But Kenji was left gasping, his mind reeling, a cold sweat beading on his forehead. This was no ordinary cultivator. This was a direct, personal communication from a being deeply connected to the Architect's power.
Master Thorne, who had been engaged in a conversation with an elder from the Veridian Brotherhood, immediately sensed Kenji's sudden distress. He turned, his gaze sharp, his brow furrowed with concern. He subtly nudged Kenji, his voice low. "Kenji? Are you alright? I felt a ripple… a dark presence." His eyes scanned the crowd, trying to pinpoint the source. "Be careful, boy. There are forces here you do not understand." Master Thorne's concern was genuine, but his knowledge was still limited compared to Kenji's System-enhanced perceptions. He couldn't outright accuse an unknown figure in such a public setting.
Kenji merely nodded, composing himself, forcing his expression into one of calm. He didn't want to draw more attention. He silently pointed towards the receding figures of the Obsidian Hand delegation with a subtle flick of his eyes, confirming Master Thorne's unspoken suspicions. The Elder's gaze hardened. He understood.
Soon after, the formal opening ceremonies of the Conclave began. The immense assembly hall grew silent as Grand Elder Seraphina, alongside the leaders of the Ironclad Dominion and the Sunstone Monks, ascended the central dais. Their speeches were grand, filled with rhetoric of unity, prosperity, and the shared future of Aethelgard. The pomp was undeniable, the show of power immense.
But beneath the polished speeches and ceremonial gestures, Kenji, with his Soul Sense active, could discern the thinly veiled rivalries. He felt the subtle pushes and pulls of spiritual energy as powerful cultivators subtly asserted dominance. He sensed the underlying ambition in the eyes of seemingly genial leaders. He saw the flicker of disdain in the eyes of Lord Valerius's faction, directed at any Order they considered lesser. The atmosphere was a complex tapestry of power, politeness, and thinly disguised competition.
The System screen, now returned to its calm blue, updated its mission.
Conclave Mission: Observe Rival Factions.STATUS: IN PROGRESS.
Sub-Mission: Gather information on The Obsidian Hand.Reward: Shadowy Faction Intel.
Kenji understood. His previous observations had confirmed their presence. Now, he needed specifics. He needed to understand their objectives here, their allies, their methods. He continued to subtly scan the crowd, listening to conversations, observing interactions, trying to identify any other individuals connected to the Obsidian Hand, or any factions that seemed overly secretive or unusually aligned.
He noticed a few subtle cues. An overly casual conversation between a minor noble and a cloaked Obsidian Hand operative. A shared, knowing glance between a powerful elder from the Ironclad Dominion and one of the Obsidian Hand delegates. These were faint trails, but to Kenji's refined Soul Sense, they were undeniable. The Obsidian Hand was not just a reclusive sect; it was a deeply embedded network.
Later, as the formal ceremonies concluded and the cultivators dispersed for informal mingling and a grand banquet in the adjacent dining halls, Kenji positioned himself discreetly, pretending to admire the intricate carvings on a distant pillar, but his senses were fully extended. He saw Lord Valerius and Kaito holding court, their laughter loud, their disdain for Kenji still palpable, but they were now too consumed by their own shallow politicking to truly notice him.
The hall hummed with a thousand conversations, a chaotic symphony of voices and spiritual energies. Kenji carefully filtered through the noise, searching for specific frequencies, for particular keywords, for any anomaly that might betray the Obsidian Hand's agenda. He focused his Soul Sense on small clusters of junior disciples, knowing they were often the unwitting carriers of gossip and rumors.
His efforts were rewarded. From a cluster of junior disciples, huddled near a fountain, their voices hushed but carrying on the ambient Qi currents, Kenji caught a few phrases.
"Did you hear about the Crimson Dawn Vanguard?" one whispered, their voice filled with a mixture of fear and excitement.
"Yes! They say they suffered heavy losses recently. An entire border outpost wiped out. Master Kael, from the High Council, even mentioned it in passing!" another replied, their eyes wide.
"But the strange part…" the first disciple leaned closer, dropping his voice to an almost inaudible whisper, "they say it wasn't beasts. Not truly. They say an ancient, forbidden ritual was used against them. Something… dark. Something that consumed their very essence."
Kenji's blood ran cold. He recognized the chilling description instantly. He knew that phrase. "Consumed their very essence." It was the same effect he'd felt from the Void-touched Charm. It was the same chilling nature of the ritual that had almost claimed Master Thorne. The same energy he'd sensed from the Forbidden Relic.
He clenched his fists, a wave of profound dread washing over him. The Obsidian Hand wasn't just lurking in the shadows. They weren't just plotting. They were actively using the forbidden ritual. They were already causing real destruction. The Conclave was indeed a trap, a political maneuver, but the true threat was already unleashing its horrifying power, right under the noses of the unsuspecting unified Orders.