Emperor's Reckoning

Chapter 1293: White Snake

Aella’s laughter rang out, light yet commanding, drawing everyone’s attention. "I admire your enthusiasm, Lyon," she said, her eyes twinkling with subtle amusement. "But that’s a matter for tomorrow. Tonight, we’re here to know each other better. After all..." Her gaze sharpened, and a hint of challenge shimmered in her tone. "One or more of you might leave for Paradise."

Lyon gave her a casual smile, unbothered by the weight of her words. "I can assure you, it’ll be me."

The crowd stirred at his bold declaration, whispers and murmurs rippling through the banquet like wildfire. The young masters shifted uncomfortably, some glancing at Lyon with a mix of disbelief and irritation.

Rufus smirked, folding his arms. "Big words," he scoffed. "But words alone won’t cut it. Tomorrow, you’ll have to prove it with action."

Lyon’s grin remained intact, unflinching. "Don’t worry. I’ll visit Paradise." With a subtle nod, he turned on his heel and made his way back to his group, leaving the crowd buzzing in his wake.

Rufus sneered as he watched Lyon walk away. "Cocky brat."

Aella gave him a knowing glance, her expression softening with intrigue. "Careful, Rufus," she warned, her voice lowering just enough for him to hear. "I was probing him just now... but I couldn’t sense a single ounce of mana from him."

Rufus’s expression shifted slightly, his sneer faltering. "He’s concealing his cultivation?"

"Possibly," Aella said with a thoughtful hum, "but there’s more to it. It’s not just him—the mountain was affected too. Whatever was holding it down... vanished the moment he arrived."

Rufus’s brows furrowed, his gaze trailing back to Lyon’s retreating figure. "He did that?"

"Perhaps," Aella whispered, eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Tomorrow will be... interesting."

Back at the banquet table, Cecile leaned toward Lyon with a smirk. "What did you say to them this time?"

"Nothing much." Lyon shrugged, grabbing a cup. "Just promised them a visit to Paradise."

Kesya chuckled as she reached for a drink. "Typical."

Ian grinned, nudging Lyon. "You’re really aiming to ruffle feathers, huh boss?"

"I didn’t start it," Lyon said with a grin, raising his cup. "But I’ll definitely finish it."

The banquet hummed with anticipation, the promise of tomorrow’s battle lingering in the air.

The night breeze brushed against Lyon’s face as he stepped onto the balcony, his crimson irises glowing faintly under the pale moonlight. With his hands resting on the edge of the railing, he gazed into the endless horizon. The stars blinked like silent witnesses, as if waiting for what was to come.

"It’s so close," Lyon murmured, his voice low but heavy with intent. His lips curled into a dark smile. "The time is nigh, Sein, my boy. Soon, they will pay the price... the ultimate price."

The sound of soft footsteps drew his attention.

"I was wondering where you were," came Luce’s familiar voice as she glided toward him, her gown trailing softly behind her.

"If it isn’t the mother of all seers," Lyon greeted with a sly grin, his gaze briefly flickering toward her. "I’ll enjoy your company tonight."

Luce smiled faintly, brushing back a strand of her silvery hair. "Enjoy, huh?" she teased. "It’s rare to find you alone out here. The old you would’ve had a lady by your side already."

Lyon arched a brow, playfully signaling that she was, in fact, the company he sought tonight.

Luce chuckled, reading his expression. "Not just me, of course," she added with a sly grin. "Usually, you’d have one or two, and always in some wild combination—Cecile, Selena, Maria... or maybe all three at once."

Lyon smirked, leaning against the railing with a carefree shrug. "What can I say? I have three wives."

Luce’s amusement dimmed slightly as a thoughtful look crossed her face. She swirled the wine in her cup slowly, gazing into its crimson depths. "Lyon... aren’t you curious about what the future holds?"

Lyon turned his gaze to the sky, the stars scattered like fragments of fate. "I am curious... but that kind of knowledge is a curse," he muttered. "Look where it got me—" He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I found Lumina. I fell for Luna. And the others followed. Destiny tangled so tightly I can’t even tell where I stand anymore."

Luce studied him closely, her usual playful demeanor replaced by something gentler. "Do you ever wish you were born into a different life?" she asked quietly, her smile wistful as she peered into her wine.

Lyon leaned further onto the balcony’s edge, the weight of unseen memories heavy in his posture. "I did have that once," he said after a pause. "The place was called Earth."

Luce blinked in mild surprise. "Oh? The start of your second life?"

Lyon gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth tugging in a half-smile. "Yeah. In the early days, there was no magic, no cultivation... at least, not that I knew of. It was a simple life—ordinary, boring, if I think about it now. Peaceful from a distance."

"That sounds nice," Luce mused softly, though her voice carried a note of skepticism.

Lyon shook his head, his smile turning bittersweet. "Not really. I’ve come to realize that no one escapes trouble—no matter how peaceful life may seem. Problems have a way of finding you, no matter where you are."

Luce’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she tipped her cup back, sipping the wine as if to wash away whatever thoughts had crept up.

"You’re not wrong," she whispered, as if more to herself. "No one escapes."

Lyon stood silently on the edge of the balcony, the night wrapping around him like a comforting shroud. Luce tilted her head curiously. "What are you going to do tomorrow?" she asked softly, her silver eyes glinting in the moonlight.

Lyon’s lips curled into a smirk. "You’ll see," he said, his voice low and full of promise.

But just as he was about to step back, a faint glimmer flickered in the distance—a sliver of white threading through the dense, shadowed forest below. It was so subtle, barely visible against the thick canopy, but the moment he noticed it, every hair on his body stood on end. His heart pounded, instincts kicking in before his mind could catch up.

Without hesitation, Lyon vaulted over the balcony railing.

"Eh, Lyon?!" Luce’s startled cry followed him, but by the time her words reached the edge, he was already descending through the air, vanishing into the forest’s embrace.

Her exclamation didn’t go unnoticed—conversations in the banquet hall stuttered, and heads turned toward the balcony.

Selena was the first to react, her sharp eyes narrowing as she darted toward Luce. "Where did he go?"

"I... I don’t know," Luce stammered, still trying to grasp what had just happened. "He suddenly jumped over and disappeared into the forest!"

Cecile folded her arms, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips. "Whatever he’s doing, he’ll be fine. You know him."

Maria nodded calmly beside her, as if she had seen this kind of behavior too many times to be alarmed. "En."

Rufus let out an annoyed huff, his wings ruffling in irritation. "How insolent," he muttered under his breath. "How many more of his disrespectful acts must I endure?"

Aella, however, furrowed her brows in contemplation. She stared out into the forest, her expression shifting from annoyance to something more thoughtful. "Something must have caught his eye," she murmured.

Lyon sprinted through the forest, his feet pounding against the soft earth as branches scratched at his skin and leaves brushed his face. Every twig that snapped underfoot echoed with a strange familiarity, as if the forest itself knew him. His adult form seemed to blur and fade with every step, and soon, it wasn’t the man who was running—it was a boy. A child, wild with joy and excitement.

"Mother!" the boy called, his voice bright with laughter. "Where are you?"

He ran with reckless abandon, his small legs propelling him forward, weaving through the labyrinth of trees and undergrowth as if nothing in the world could stop him. His cheeks were flushed, eyes gleaming with the innocence of youth, the kind that only a boy untouched by sorrow could have.

Then it came—that voice.

"Over here..."

The sound was unlike anything in the natural world. It was smoother than silk, richer than the finest melody, and it brimmed with a warmth that could cradle the loneliest soul. It wasn’t loud—no, it was soft, gentle—but it rang inside him, clear as a chime in the dead of night. It was the kind of voice a child would chase without a second thought, as if all the love in the world was wrapped in those two words.

Lyon—no, the boy—felt his heart leap. A smile spread across his face, wide and pure.

He kept running, branches and brambles parting as if to make way for him. His little hands pushed through the bushes, the twigs scratching against his skin, but he didn’t care.

He was almost there.

"Mother!" he shouted again, breathless with excitement, his voice carrying through the woods like the call of a bird reunited with its flock.

And then, just beyond a cluster of trees, there it was—the source of the voice, waiting for him in the twilight shadows.

He pushed through the last tangle of branches, his small frame emerging into a clearing bathed in soft moonlight.

The wind swept through the forest, carrying with it the scent of earth and leaves. It rustled the branches above, and the boy—Lyon in his childlike form—paused, closing his eyes against the gentle breeze. He rubbed at them with both hands, exhaustion and excitement mingling.

"There, there, open your eyes," came that same voice, soothing as a lullaby.

The boy stopped rubbing, blinking as if waking from a dream. When he opened his eyes again, the forest around him shimmered, and he was no longer a child. The youthful innocence drained away, replaced by the sharp gaze of the man who had fought across worlds and lifetimes. Lyon was back in his adult form, his breathing steady, though his heart felt like it was caught between two beats.

And then he saw it.

A pale glimmer slithered into view, coiling lazily among the roots of a gnarled tree.

The white snake.