Deep within the Elven Empire, inside one of the rooms of the royal palace that had been taken over by the Red Dawn Cult now, Helena stood before a closed door for a few monts silently before raising her head to knock.
The once-pristine corridors of the palace bore faint scorch marks and traces of ritualistic red patterns now, tainting the graceful beauty of Elven craftsmanship.
She waited quietly for a mont, her hands folded behind her back, her face expressionless.
Then, from within the room, a soft, ethereal voice echoed like a lullaby drifting through mist. It was the voice of a woman—enchanting and distant, yet undeniably commanding.
"You may enter."
Helena lowered her head respectfully, then pushed the door open.
The room was dimly lit, with gentle incense smoke curling through the air. A thin, almost translucent net curtain split the chamber in two. The side Helena stood in was sparse—quiet and solemn. The other side, veiled by the curtain, was awash in a gentle silver glow.
Through the sheer fabric, she could just make out the vague silhouette of a woman seated within a massive, wide bathtub carved of ivory stone. The tub brimd with a thick, milky liquid laced with floating herbs and petals, releasing a sweet, rejuvenating aroma that clung to the air. The liquid glistened under soft spirit light, slipping off the woman’s skin like pearls rolling off silk.
The priestess raised one of her long, bare legs from the bath and rubbed it slowly with a cloth, her movents unhurried and graceful. Despite the veil between them, there was a strange allure to her form—blurred, yet captivating. No distinct facial features could be seen, yet her presence alone was powerful enough to unnerve even the most hardened warrior.
Helena bowed low, keeping her gaze just slightly lowered, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of distraction.
"Your Holiness," she greeted softly.
The priestess continued her slow movents, then finally spoke in a voice that was both delicate and icy. "What was the sudden disturbance on the continent?"
Helena hesitated. For a second, she found herself unable to look away from the hazy figure behind the curtain, caught between reverence and sothing far more human. She quickly blinked and forced her focus back into place.
"I... received an alert," Helena said, her voice steadying. "From the main barrier."
A long silence followed. The sound of dripping water filled the room.
Then, the priestess spoke again, her tone quiet but sharp, "And did you find anything?"
Her words hung in the air, so light that she seed unconcerned about the possibility of soone having infiltrated.
Helena shook her head lightly, her posture still firm. "For now, it appears to be a false alarm. Possibly an unregistered spirit beast crossing into the territory. But we’re not taking chances. Our forces are sweeping the entire continent, combing every region. If soone has infiltrated, we’ll find them."
The priestess said nothing, continuing to wash herself with smooth, fluid motions. The herbal milk-like liquid shimred over her skin, slipping down her shoulders and arms in glistening trails. The silence stretched longer than it should have. Uncomfortable. Disquieting.
Despite her usual composure, Helena’s calm began to falter.
One of her eyes slowly lowered, flicking down toward the floor. The other—her chanical red eye—flickered rapidly, cycling through image after image, every fra a visual scan from the surveillance drones still flying above the treetops. Yet none of them revealed anything useful.
She inhaled deeply, the scent of the priestess’s bath thick in the air. Sweet. dicinal. And sothing else beneath it—sothing ancient.
Finally, the priestess’s voice broke the silence like a soft blade.
"Check the underground passages."
Helena blinked. "...Underground?"
"There are old roots beneath this land," the priestess said, her voice carrying that sa distant lody. "Hidden veins beneath the forests—passages once used by the ancient Elven tribes to travel in secret. If soone has crossed the barrier and avoided detection... they may be using those tunnels to move unseen."
Helena’s brows furrowed. "I wasn’t aware of such tunnels, Your Holiness."
"I am," the priestess replied simply, unfazed. "Find them. Secure them. If they’re using the old ways, cut them off."
Helena nodded stiffly. "Yes, Your Holiness."
A pause.
"And Noah?" the priestess asked, her tone shifting only slightly. "Have you located him yet?"
Helena’s face tensed for the first ti, and this ti, even her red eye dimd slightly. "No. There’s been no trace of him in either the Feng Empire or the Quan Empire. I’ve expanded the search to neighboring regions, but... he’s vanished."
There was no reply.
The priestess stood slowly from the bath.
The thick liquid clung to her body before slipping away in shimring streams. Her long hair, soaked and heavy, shifted as she turned to the side, the motion cascading over one shoulder. Though the curtain still veiled her from full view, Helena could now make out the outline of her figure.
Tall.
Graceful.
And unnaturally perfect.
It was not the body of a mortal woman—it was sothing crafted, sculpted, like an offering made flesh.
Helena, despite herself, found her breath caught in her throat.
The priestess turned just slightly, revealing only the faintest curve of her back through the misty veil.
"Find him," she said, her voice now low and cold.
Helena lowered her gaze again, clenching her fists quietly. She hated herself for not having a definitive answer for the priestess. Just as she opened her mouth to respond, her flickering red eye stopped, and her words sank down in her throat.
A sharp light glead in her eyes as she stared at the final image in her mind.
It was the image of the base of a tall tree that was wide enough to shelter tens of people under it without making them complain about space. This was the sa space Wuhan had jumped from before, but now that entry to the hidden passage was closed, there was no clue that could reveal their presence—except there was one.
The circling eagle in the area stopped and perched on a nearby tree and focused on the single strand of green hair lying at the roots of the tree; the color was so glossy that it practically shone out even among the leaves lying on the ground.
"Your Holiness." Helena raised her head a little and looked at the bare back of the woman behind the curtain that had conjured a towel to dry herself and spoke with a slightly uplifted tone, "I have found the intruder!"
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