[ Third Person ]
The jagged, alpine peaks finally flattened into a sprawling, mist-shrouded valley as the vanguard crossed the shifting southern border. By the time the horses descended the rocky mountain paths the following afternoon, the orderly, pristine stone architecture of the capital had completely vanished, replaced by the chaotic, raw energy of the borderlands.
This was the downtown of Nantong—a stark, exotic world that operated entirely outside the jurisdiction of the imperial courts.
The air here was thick, smelling heavily of unfamiliar spices, roasting meats, and damp river silt. The local populace possessed a completely different aesthetic from the refined citizens of Arghon; their skin was a deep, sun-baked dusky tone, heavily adorned with intricate tribal paint that mapped their family lineages and ancestral deeds across their arms and faces. The markets were a loud, bustling maze of vendors hawking raw furs, foreign herbs, and heavy iron weapons, their dialects sharp and fast.
"The atmospheric energy of this province is remarkably unrefined," Princess Xiao'er remarked, holding a silk handkerchief over her nose as her imperial stallion trotted past a butcher's stall displaying exotic game. "It is an utter miracle that civilization manages to breathe in such a primitive territory."
"This is not civilization, Princess," Tae Hua countered smoothly from the front of the line, his dark eyes hyper-focused as they scanned the rooftops and narrow alleys for potential threats. "This is a border shield. The people here survive because they are hard enough to endure what the capital chooses to ignore."
As the column pushed deeper into the heart of the downtown sector, the bustling markets abruptly dissolved into a barren, blackened scar of scorched earth and collapsed timber.
Master Dan Pu Chi pulled his warhorse to a hard halt, his weathered face darkening as he looked down at the ruins. This was the exact coordinates where the historic entrance to the Night Pavilion's network was supposed to stand. Instead, nothing remained but ashes and the unmistakable, grim aura of a targeted assault.
"The original entryway has been entirely incinerated," Ji Wok noted, dismounting to examine a piece of charcoal timber. His fingers traced the jagged grain. "The burn patterns are uniform. This was not an accidental tavern fire. This was executed by highly trained assassins utilizing imperial-grade incendiaries."
"They are attempting to sever our path before we can even query the master," Tae Hua hissed, his hand tightly gripping the hilt of his jade-accented sword. "The court's rot has officially reached the border."
"Do not allow your focus to waver, young candidates," Master Dan commanded, his booming voice cutting through the rising panic. He guided his horse past the scorched perimeter, approaching a massive, seemingly solid brick wall that sealed the dead-end alleyway behind the ruins. "The forces of greed can burn the physical world, but they cannot incinerate an ancient illusion."
Without a single moment of hesitation, Master Dan urged his horse directly toward the solid brick structure.
Princess Xiao'er let out a sharp gasp, instinctively reaching out to stop him—but before her hand could move, Master Dan's massive frame seamlessly rippled through the stone, disappearing entirely from the physical world.
One by one, the astonished candidates followed his lead. When Weicheng guided her mare through the threshold, her senses briefly experienced a sharp, dizzying drop in pressure, as if she were stepping through a wall of cold water.
The moment her vision cleared, the vanguard found themselves standing in an entirely different reality.
Tucked safely within the deep pocket of the illusion barrier was a lavish, multi-tiered sanctuary that completely put the shabby, burned downtown to shame. The architecture was beautifully crafted from dark, polished mahogany and adorned with glowing silk lanterns that cast a warm, golden hue across a private, stone-paved courtyard. This was Lady Suan Ming's newly reconstructed illusion inn—a sanctuary engineered explicitly to shield the secrets of the outer-world entities from the prying eyes of the capital.
Standing at the base of the grand veranda was Lady Suan Ming herself. Though a heavy, silver silk veil completely obscured her unseeing eyes, her posture was remarkably regal, her flawless lips curved into an enigmatic, knowing smile as the vanguard dismounted.
"The stars have been whispering of your grueling journey across the high passes, young candidates of Arghon," Lady Suan Ming's smooth, resonant voice echoed through the courtyard, perfectly projecting without the use of physical effort. "Welcome to the hidden heart of Nantong."
As the elite students moved to secure their mounts, Lady Suan Ming's blind, veiled gaze slowly tracked across the platoon. She bypassed the glittering royal armor of Prince Tae Hua and the elegant satin robes of the princess, her focus locking directly onto Weicheng's rigid frame.
Weicheng froze, her hand tightening against the reins of her mare as she felt the sheer, psychic weight of the seer's attention. Beneath her thick wool riding cape, the stolen 807 manifest hidden against her sleeve suddenly felt as heavy as an iron anchor.
Lady Suan Ming's smile deepened slightly, a silent, telepathic understanding passing between them in the golden lantern light.
"Enter freely," the blind seer murmured, turning her back to lead them inside. "The storm you are running from has already arrived at my doorstep... and the time for secrets is rapidly drawing to a close."