Emperor's Reckoning

Chapter 1302: Empress of the Empyrean

The Grand Heaven closed with a climax that nobody could expect. The greatest heaven under Paradise was left awake with the ashes that were from a Seraph. The crowds dispersed in orderly fashion, but nobody’s heart was at rest. They could only speculate what happened next.

Meanwhile, Luce, Lily, and Vivi was nowhere to be seen. In the face of uncertainty, the three seers didn’t even provide their presence.

As the night approaches Aetherion, the serene night belied what the cultivators were feeling. However, those in charge of Sixth Heaven was getting the greatest hit.

Under the well-lit room was a massive table in the shape of a heptagon. All six chairs were adorned with the banners of the Six Clans, except for the seventh seat, at the farthest point.

Amara the Matriarch of the Red Lotus, Kairos of Teardrop Clan, Kurogane of Black Kirin, Aelius of Harmony, Alistair of Sky Clan, and Atrum of Ouroboros, all six were brooding over what happened this morning.

Kurogane sat rigidly, his heavy arms resting on the polished surface. His glare could pierce steel.

"A seraph reduced to ashes," Kurogane muttered grimly.

Kairos leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping the hilt of his spear in irritation. "Let’s not pretend we had a choice. That was no ordinary flame. He didn’t just burn Rufus—he erased him."

Alistair from the Sky Clan crossed his arms, his gaze steady but his mind clearly churning. "Lyon Torga," he said quietly. "The emperor of the lost Empyrean..."

Amara of the Red Lotus tapped her fingernails on the table, her eyes narrowed. "He made a mockery of us," she said. "He knew every clan secret. The heirlooms we’ve hidden for centuries—how could he know them?"

The room grew deathly still at those words. For generations, these leaders had ruled with unquestioned authority. But Lyon’s arrival had shattered the illusion of their invincibility.

Then Kairos’s voice broke through the heavy air. "Where are the seers?" His eyes darted around the table. "Luce, Lily, Vivi... Where are they? They vanished before the fight began. Why are they silent now?"

Aelius sighed deeply. "Perhaps they know there’s no point in speaking. Or perhaps they already know what’s coming... and it’s something even they fear."

Kurogane of the Black Kirin Clan leaned forward, his massive hands folded together. His stern, cold expression betrayed none of the storm raging inside him. "A single mortal—not just defeating—but erasing a seraph. It should be impossible." His dark gaze flickered to the others. "We need to reassess everything we think we know about Lyon Torga."

Aelius of the Harmony Clan rested his chin on his interlaced fingers, exuding an eerie calm that made his presence unsettling. "The way he moved, the ease with which he handled Rufus—it wasn’t just skill. It was experience far beyond ours." His silver eyes sharpened. "He’s fought enemies like Rufus before."

Outside, the skies darkened, as if the heavens themselves sensed the shift in balance. The leaders of the six clans sat in silence, knowing full well that the battle with Lyon was only the beginning of a much larger storm brewing on the horizon.

The six leaders turned their gaze toward the seventh seat, its polished surface glinting under the soft light. For years, that seat had remained empty, a silent reminder of the one figure absent from their meetings. It was neither forgotten nor ignored—no one dared fill it.

Now, after today’s events, the weight of that seat was impossible to overlook. They knew exactly who belonged there.

"The Emperor of Empyrean," muttered Amara, her voice like a serpent’s hiss. Her fingers clenched the armrest, nails biting into the wood. "It was always meant to be his."

Kurogane leaned forward, his golden eyes flickering with disbelief. "But how? How could someone that powerful slip through all our eyes? A Seraph—a Seraph—was like a mere cultivator to him!"

"It’s impossible to overlook someone like that," Atrum replied, swirling the remnants of his wine in thought. "However... what if we forgot about him?"

Amara’s sharp gaze snapped toward him. "What are you saying?"

Atrum let the glass settle on the table and leaned back, his expression grim. "I’ve met him before. Long before all of you crossed paths with him."

"You did?" Alistair narrowed his eyes. "Wait... does this have anything to do with that strange incident in the Fifth Heaven?"

Atrum gave a humorless chuckle. "Strange? Yes. But it was no accident." His gaze darkened, voice dropping into a weighty tone. "My daughter is certain that Lyon Torga caused it."

The room tensed, the atmosphere tightening as the weight of those words sank in.

"What exactly did he do?" Kairos asked cautiously, leaning in.

Atrum’s voice was cold, as if recalling a distant nightmare. "He plucked two seraphs like they were chickens. Their meridians—shattered beyond repair. No physician, no ancient elixir, not even the Fifth Heaven’s miracles could mend them."

Kurogane slammed a fist on the table, rattling it. "Two?! He destroyed two other seraphs?!"

Atrum nodded slowly. "He was brutal—merciless, both in words and in execution. He didn’t just defeat them. He broke them, as if their existence was an insult to him."

Alistair exhaled sharply, disbelief etched on his face. "And you knew this? Yet you stayed silent?"

"I made my choice," Atrum replied, voice unwavering. "And it was the right one. I knew even then... standing against him would mean doom."

Amara’s brows furrowed. "Not even Aella could keep up with him. She tried cheating—and failed."

"That’s not even the most alarming part," Atrum continued. "It’s not just his strength that worries me. During the Gathering of the Six, Lyon said something strange—something only someone with ancient knowledge could know."

"He knew about the origins of the Gathering of the Six," Atrum said, his voice carrying an ominous weight. "He talked as if he had lived it. As if it was yesterday for him."

Kurogane narrowed his eyes. "He could’ve been bluffing. Someone might have told him."

"No," Atrum said flatly. "It wasn’t just knowledge. He knew. but when we met in Fifth Heaven..." His gaze grew colder, the memory vivid. "He asked how my progenitor was doing."

"What?" Alistair’s expression turned rigid. "But your progenitor... has been dead for centuries."

The weight of Atrum’s revelation pressed down on the room like a crushing tide. The leaders sat in stunned silence, unable to fully grasp the gravity of what had just been unveiled.

"That’s not all," Atrum continued, his voice low but filled with an unshakable tension. "He didn’t just ask about my progenitor... he asked about yours. All of them." He scanned the faces around the table. "Then, without warning, his aura—oppressive, suffocating—flooded the entire Fifth Heaven."

Kairos’s fists clenched at the memory of his ancestor. "All of our progenitors... they died within the same narrow span of time. And they all..."

"They all shared one trait," Atrum murmured darkly.

Amara’s lips parted as the realization washed over her like a cold wave. "They... forgot."

A ripple of unease swept through the room. Even those who prided themselves on their composure felt their blood run cold.

"I see you’ve made the connection." Atrum exhaled slowly, as if saying the words aloud made them more real, more horrifying.

"You’re suggesting..." Alistair’s voice faltered, a rare crack in his usual stern demeanor.

Atrum nodded gravely. "Yes. What they forgot—what their minds were unable to retain... was him."

Just then, a female voice drifted into the chamber, smooth and composed, yet carrying the weight of undeniable authority.

"The Zodiac Emperor... the true host of the Gathering of the Six," the woman had said. Her auburn hair, draped elegantly over her shoulders, framed a face both regal and fearsome. She was dressed in robes that marked her as an Empress—someone of extraordinary stature. Yet, it wasn’t her appearance that unnerved them. It was her words.

Every leader tensed. This was a closed, sacred meeting—no one should have been able to enter. Yet there she was.

Her presence silenced the room, her elegance commanding every gaze as she gracefully took the seventh seat.

She smiled warmly, as if amused by their disbelief. "My husband," she said softly, the words lingering in the air like a promise. "The Zodiac Emperor."

The leaders stared in disbelief, unable to respond.

"I’m genuinely pleased to see that his descendants are not without insight," she added, her gaze sweeping over them with a knowing gleam, as if she had anticipated this moment all along.

Amara’s hands tightened into fists beneath the table. "You..." she whispered, her heart racing. "You’re... Cecile."

The Empress of Empyrean inclined her head slightly, her smile never wavering. "Yes," she said. "Let me introduce myself, I am Cecile Torga, the Empress of the Empyrean."

Cecile smirked like her husband. "Now that I have your attention, I want to know the course of action that all of you would take regarding the incoming war."

"War... is he serious?" asked Atrum.

"War against Paradise sounds like a nonsense," said Cecile. "But you need to choose your side. Will you side with Paradise, with us, or will you stay neutral? Though please keep in mind, if you stay neutral, Paradise will kill you."