Lucas stood there for a mont, his mouth slightly open but no words forming. His mind scrambled for sothing appropriate, sothing respectful, sothing that would not sound shallow or foolish, yet all that finally slipped past his lips was a quiet almost breathless sorry. It was not dramatic and it was not eloquent, but it carried a sincerity so raw that it seed to linger in the silent air between them.
The empress did not flinch at the word and she did not recoil as others often did when confronted by her scar. Instead she looked straight into his eyes, searching for the mockery or the hidden fear she had grown so accustod to seeing. She found neither. What she saw instead was a young man who appeared genuinely wounded on her behalf, as though her pain had sohow beco his. For a woman who had spent years masking her emotions and building a fortress around her heart, that single expression from him was strangely disarming.
Lucas lowered his gaze for a brief second, unsure if staring too long might seem disrespectful, yet unsure if looking away entirely might seem dismissive. He finally drew in a slow breath and lifted his eyes again, still filled with that sa earnest softness. His voice was quiet but steady as he repeated himself, saying that he truly was sorry she had endured sothing so terrible, and he hoped she knew it was not pity ant to belittle her but a simple human response to suffering.
The empress watched him carefully before she gave a small shake of her head. It was not a gesture of annoyance or rejection but rather a calm dismissal of the apology itself. She told him that she had not revealed her face to receive sorrow or sympathy. She explained that pity from others never healed anything and never restored what was lost, and she had long accepted that. Her tone was composed and level, as though every word had already been weighed in her mind before she spoke it, and she made it clear she was not seeking comfort from anyone.
She took a asured breath and shifted the conversation back to the matter at hand. Her voice regained its steady authority as she asked him again if he believed he could truly create the potion she had ntioned. Lucas straightened his posture slightly, gathered his thoughts, and answered with a firm nod. He told her that he could do it. He explained that while he would need specific details about the nature of the damage and the intended result, the creation itself was within his ability. His tone carried confidence without arrogance, as though he was stating a fact rather than boasting.
For a mont she simply observed him in silence, her eyes moving over his expression, searching for hesitation or doubt. She found only certainty. Slowly she lifted her chin and spoke with quiet conviction, saying that she trusted him. She reminded him that his alchemy skills were far beyond anything the empire had witnessed in many generations and she had no intention of doubting the one person who had consistently achieved the impossible. Her voice softened just a fraction as she added that among all the renowned alchemists she had encountered, none possessed the insight and intuition he displayed.
Lucas felt the weight of her trust settle on his shoulders, heavy yet strangely empowering. The ice belle on his neck blinked curiously but remained silent. The empress held his gaze a mont longer before repeating that she believed in his capability completely, and she trusted him to do it, because his alchemy was on a level far above the rest.
Lucas cleared his throat softly and looked at her with a calm expression.
"Your Majesty," he said, "you ntioned there were two reasons you called here. We have spoken about the first. May I ask what the second is?"
The empress did not answer right away. She turned slightly, her gaze focused on him, and then spoke in a asured voice.
"Xavier, I have been thinking about what happened in that chamber," she said. "I have turned it over in my mind again and again, and the more I think about it, the less sense it makes."
Lucas nodded once, keeping his tone respectful. "If there is sothing unclear, I will try to explain it, Your Majesty."
She took a slow step toward him and folded her hands behind her back.
"I have studied cultivation for many years," she said. "I have seen geniuses rise. I have watched armies train. I have witnessed breakthroughs that defied expectations, but what happened with you and those girls was beyond anything I have ever encountered."
Lucas remained silent, letting her continue.
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Breakthroughs are common. Sudden leaps are rare but possible. However, what occurred was far more than a sudden leap. Four cultivators, all rising in rapid succession. One reaching the Sage realm. And you, ascending into the Ascendant realm in a way that should not be possible."
Lucas drew a quiet breath. "Your Majesty, cultivation can be unpredictable. Sotis..."
She raised a hand gently, cutting him off without aggression, only certainty.
"Do not try to brush it aside," she said. "I felt the surge myself. The palace shook with it. There was nothing ordinary about it."
She stepped closer, her voice calm but firm.
"When you walked into this room, I could sense sothing in you," she said. "Yang energy. Dense, powerful Yang energy, far stronger than what any ordinary cultivator carries."
Lucas said softly, "Yang energy can manifest differently in different people."
She shook her head.
"No," she replied. "This was not a faint trace. It was concentrated. Refined. Like a burning core beneath your calm expression. I am certain of what I felt."
Lucas lowered his gaze for a mont, then looked back up.
"Your Majesty, energy alone does not guarantee a breakthrough."
"And yet," she replied, "you broke through. They broke through. All of you rose in a way that defies logic."
She walked past him slowly, then turned to face him again.
"I am not questioning whether you possess Yang energy," she said. "I already know you do. My question is how you used it."
Lucas’s voice remained steady. "What do you an by how?"
The empress t his eyes directly.
"I want to know how you increased your cultivation in such enormous leaps," she said. "And how those girls rose just as quickly while standing beside you."
Lucas opened his mouth slightly, but she continued before he spoke.
"I do not want a polite explanation," she said. "I do not want a convenient answer. I want the truth."
Lucas was silent again.
She took a slow breath.
"I can feel the Yang inside you," she said quietly. "But I cannot understand the thod. There is no scripture, no ancient record, no known technique that allows Yang energy to be used in that way. Especially not to elevate multiple cultivators at once."
Her voice lowered further, steady and direct.
"Do not lie to , Xavier. Tell how you increased your cultivation and theirs in such impossible leaps and bounds."
She held his gaze, waiting for his answer.
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