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14.28% Empyrean Chronicles / Chapter 4: Sigh

章節 4: Sigh

The moon hung silently in the skies of the Divine World, shining its' silver light on all beneath it.

The Awakening Coliseum of the Fahren Clan was getting fraught with the various Clans and Sects from all reaches of the Dark Edge Realm. They arrived on powerful Flying Treasures radiating undulations so suffocating, were it not for the Formations set up by Fahren Clan prior, the few Mortal cultivators among them would have fainted.

After all, while it was true that the Fahren Clan was the undisputed ruler of the the whole Realm, it was undeniable that any organisation that could stand firmly in the Divine World without quivering, was a major powerhouse of its own.

Aside from the Clans or Sects of the Divine World, lone cultivation experts who have been in seclusion for billions of years appeared, making their presence known to the world again. Various ancient Divine Alchemists, old Formation Masters, and even legendary cultivators with a profession as obscure as peering into the future, attended, shocking those who had only heard, but not seen them.

Were it not for the fact that, all these powerhouses are converging in the Awakening Coliseum, most would have doubted if really, they were invited to the Awakening Ceremony of the Fahren Clan.

After all, it was general knowledge that Awakening Ceremonies, although not necessarily true, but for the sake of abstruseness, are meant to be conducted in secret.

Furthermore, these powerhouses wouldn't waste their already limited cultivation time to witness the Awakening of several youngsters who were still wet behind the ears.

However, the invitation this time around was from the Fahren Clan. They didn't dare to ignore it.

Suddenly, massive waves of Spatial Qi surged from several points in the space above the Awakening Coliseum. The space churned and twisted around these points relentlessly, before they all coalesced into a singular spot.

A Teleportation Array was at work here.

One after the other, several auras began to manifest, each unbribled and sacred to the extreme. Their undulations flared out, washing the Coliseum in their presence.

What came into view a second later, was a group of extremely beautiful humanoid beings. And from the looks of things, it appeared they weren't Humans. They were simply beyond Humans in that regard.

Their very being radiated ethereality, wafting the pureness that was reminiscent of a particular race. A race of being whose very existence almost felt in tune with the Heavens.

These were none other than the Sprites of the Spiritual Plane.

With a regality and majesty that was unique to them, they descended into the seats deigned for them, a kind smile playing their perfect features. Without fail, each and everyone of them radiated the aura of a Divine.

A collective sigh echoed throughout the Awakening Coliseum, the emotion behind them palpable. The Sprites were just so beautiful. So beautiful the heart strings of several Divines who were way past their prime couldn't help but thrum. And yet, none could court them.

Or more specifically, none was shameless enough to court them. Mythical Beasts aside, the Sprites were one of the two most talented races of the Martial Verse. The other being the Demons.

They were so talented, a cultivation Realm that would take Human geniuses a century to achieve, would only take them a quarter of the same years. As such, childhood pairings between them was nearly non-existent. By the time the Human was at a cultivation Realm decent enough to take a bride, their Sprite partner would have left them in the dust.

And those powerful enough to match them in cultivation were already old, too old infact. Thus, they wouldn't be surprised if the King of the Sprites was not even a million years old. An age that, although sounded plenty, was barely a quarter of theirs which was billions of years.

However, what the powerhouses here had no idea of was that, even if they were as talented as them, there was little assurance the Sprites would marry them.

After all, they were absolute believers of Bloodline purity. They believed the presence of a blood that was not of Sprite origin in their bodies would taint their sacredness. Hence, incestuous relationships among them was not uncommon.

As the guests still drank in the beauty of the Sprites, the space hummed again, a tidal wave of Spatial Qi spreading over the Coliseum, before the space parted, a second group stepping into materiality.

However, unlike the Sprites that was met with adoration upon their arrival, what ensued after the appearance of this new group was silence. Absolute silence. A silence that almost felt stifling. After all…

The Demons of the Infernal Plane had arrived.

Almost immediately, the aura of several cultivation experts flared, each of them taking a defensive stance as they gazed at the Demons with bared aggression.

The Sprites, in particular, had already circulated their Qi, ready to attack at any conceived oddity.

However, what one wouldn't have expected was the reaction of the Demons. Or more specifically, the reaction of the Demon standing at the helm of the demonic group.

A boisterous laughter resounded from the Demon, a tiny bead of tear pooling at the corners of his eyes as his violet irises shone with unconcealed mockery.

"I must say, the stance you lots have taken just enlightened me how mighty my kind are. I'm… flattered."

His voice boomed, the aura of a Demon God sweeping through the crowd with unmatched fierceness. Infernal Qi wrapped around his body with unrivalled swiftness, threatening to burst out in their unrestrained state.

Behind him, the Demons, each with auras no less intimidating than his, took an offensive stance, surrounding him, as they got ready to sacrifice their lives for their King.

It felt as though these powerhouses would battle it out against the Demons, disregarding the might of those who invited them.

However, just as the atmosphere was on the brim of imploding…

"Sigh…"

An especially light sigh sounded. It was just a sigh. A single sigh. And yet, it pierced through the rising momentum with the sharpness of a sword.


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