Standing in the pavilion, Luna had no idea what to expect. The energy here felt more potent and concentrated, almost as if it had been filtered from the air and refined into its purest form.

"The Lineage of the Supreme One was the strongest and most unique among the divine lineages," Raiden said. "It represented balance and true harmony among all things. But using your will in sorcery is pointless if the essence within your body is impure."

Luna scanned the pavilion again. She quietly removed her sandals and placed them aside. The moment her bare feet touched the red stone plates, a strange sensation overwhelmed her.

She clenched her fists and realized something was wrong. All her blessed strength vanished in a single breath.

"My strength…" she murmured in disbelief.

"Oh, yes," Raiden replied casually.

He had changed into more practical attire: a loose shirt tucked into wide-legged trousers with a cloth belt around his waist. The look reminded Luna of a traditional martial arts instructor.

"I forgot to mention that the pavilion strips you of all your divine gifts," he said. "While you're here, you're just a regular human being. This is the True Soul Pavilion."

Luna raised an eyebrow. "The True Soul Pavilion… I've heard of that before. It was something famous back in the old world."

"It was something people interested in astral projection involved themselves in," Raiden recalled. "A long time ago, to astral project, humans first had to pass through the Dreaming. To properly anchor themselves, they had to begin here, in the True Soul Pavilion."

Raiden nodded, arms folded behind his back as he paced slowly across the red stone floor.

"Balance is an essential concept," he said. "The Flame—the principle of creation—and every other force or concept in existence is tied to Balance. That's why cultivators place so much importance on Harmony, on maintaining full control. To move to the next level, you must achieve that Balance."

"And how do I do that?" Luna asked, after a moment of silent reflection.

"Martial Artists call it inner peace," Raiden explained. "To understand oneself is to accept everything—flaws, scars, memories, purpose. That's something the Nightmare tried to teach you in its own twisted way."

He paused, then added, "The reason the divine servants remain in the Divine Realm is because Balance holds them there. In our case, the Eternal Flame is the living embodiment of that Balance—it maintains harmony between the realms. If that flame dies, the divine and mortal realm will collide to create something else."

While listening, Luna asked another question. "Then what keeps this world from leaking into ours?"

"The Dream is a broken world," Raiden answered. "Just like the Shadow World, and the Void. The rules of those worlds no longer hold. They're only contained because their occupants choose to contain them. Lord Aaron keeps the Dream Realm in check since he's the strongest being within it. The Shadow Realm is held together by the Night Empress and her children, while the Spirit Realm or the Void maintains itself with the help of humanity…for now."

"So the Night… she's a Visionary?" Luna asked, intrigued.

Raiden nodded. "Like the others, she was walking the Qi path long before the Fall." A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "For all I know, she might be hundreds of years old."

That bit of information made something click in Luna's mind. Ascenders aged far more slowly than ordinary humans. On average, an Ascender could live up to two hundred years, even longer if they were special cases.

"So… how old are you?" she asked, genuinely curious now.

"A little over sixty," Raiden replied. "I'm a survivor of the Fall. I was fifteen when the first beast appeared over North America. I saw the first Infected… and trust me, it was a horrifying experience."

He said it all with a crooked smile, trying to mask the pain in his eyes.

Those who had lived both before and after the Fall were incredibly rare. Many had taken their own lives from the trauma. Others, the strong few, had helped rebuild the broken world into what now stood... a world teetering once more at the edge of collapse.

After a short silence, the smiling Raiden said:

"The Soul Pavilion puts us at the same strength as our souls. To draw in stronger essence, your soul must first be strong enough to bear it. So for now… pretend the Soul Gate doesn't exist."

"Is that how I gain balance?" Luna asked.

He scoffed. "You'll see. Now fight me."

Luna hesitated the moment she heard that. But Raiden didn't give her the luxury of time. He moved faster than her eyes could track and appeared in front of her like a phantom. Then came the strike.

His fist connected with her jaw, and the force sent her flying out of the pavilion space and crashing into a nearby pillar.

Under normal conditions, the pillar would have shattered from the impact. But it didn't, because Luna was no longer a powerful Ascender. Her soul was weak in its current state, and the pain screamed through her body, raw and unforgiving, instantly reminding her of what it felt like to be human.

'I thought the Pavilion was supposed to put us on equal ground…'

"I forgot to mention," Raiden's voice called out, calm and cruel. "I'm stronger than you because my soul is in balance with the essence here. That's the natural order. I am in Balance."

"…you're gloating."

Luna was already back on her feet. So this was the method? Getting her soul stronger by throwing herself into more pain?

'Does everything in my life have to be so masochistic?' she wondered.

Without another word, she lunged at him, fist cocked back. Raiden, ever the master, saw the attack and evaded with clean, precise movement.

But it was a feint.

Luna snapped her fist back and unleashed a flurry of punches—fast and wild like a raging storm. A tornado of blows erupted from her, so fast that even Raiden couldn't dodge them all.

He leapt back and immediately returned to his combat stance.

Luna moved with all the speed she could muster and appeared right in front of her opponent. Now fighting with the average strength of a human, she was forced to rely solely on technique and control. Otherwise, she risked breaking her own bones with every movement.

Her fist recoiled, tension building in her shoulders as she stayed alert for Raiden's next counter. To her surprise, he didn't move. He let her strike him in the chest with everything she had.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

And as expected, it failed. Raiden didn't flinch. He didn't even sway. It was as if his muscles and skin were made of tempered steel.

"Not enough!"

Then, he smirked and retaliated. His knee shot forward, slamming directly into her gut.

"Urgh!"

The force of the blow nearly knocked her out cold. Her body lifted from the ground and slammed into the ceiling before crashing hard onto the red stone floor of the pavilion.

"Cough! Cough!"

She choked violently, actual blood splattering from her lips. Agonizing pain wracked every inch of her body, and for a moment, she couldn't even move.

Raiden's voice broke through the ringing in her ears.

"That's enough for today, Lunaris."

Raiden stared at her with a wary expression. It was clear now--Lunaris was far weaker than he had anticipated. For all her natural talent and raw potential, it meant nothing without a strong soul to support it. In the end, even the most gifted were useless if their foundation was fragile.

"You'll remain in this pavilion for the next three days," he said flatly. "We'll fight again then. And if you still can't land a scratch on me…" His eyes narrowed. "We'll begin harsher training. You can never defy the order if you keep on like this."

With that, he left the pavilion, leaving Luna alone on the floor and in pain. Many hours passed, and the true soul area began to feel more and more singular. Everything around her was isolated from her senses, and all that remained was the calm, gentle wind that circled the pavilion.

Luna remained on the floor, silent and still like a corpse. Her eyes were open, glaring at the tree in front of her without a single motion. If it wasn't for the occasional blinking, you could think she was dead.

How exactly was she supposed to grasp all of this quickly enough to call herself a sorcerer?

Why was her soul weak, yet she's displayed nothing but strength for the past years?

She then closed her eyes and muttered a chant that quickly took her into her Mental Space, which now looked like the underground library.

"Do you need something?"

The twisted version of herself stood alone in a dark corner. She wore a black robe and still resembled a much younger Luna, but with black nails, black lipstick, and a cold glint in her eye. The concept had absorbed itself into Luna's personality, and now its appearance mirrored what Luna might have looked like if she had been some goth teen.

Luna didn't like this depiction of herself. Yet, there was nothing she could do about it.

"Magic. What do you know about it?" Luna asked.

The apparition shrugged.

"I know as much about magic as you do. I'm a piece of Imagination. So, unless you're creative, I can't help you."

Luna clicked her tongue. "I'm not feeling creative."

"Yes. That fight must've left you worse than usual. But you know he's right. A second gate isn't enough for someone with your goals."

Luna conjured a seat for herself and pulled one of the books from the shelves. It had a blue hardcover with nothing on the surface. The pages were white and blank--this was as far as her imagination could take her.

She closed her eyes and returned to the real world once more. However, this time, the cherry tree was gone, and only the pavilion remained.

She sat cross-legged, staring at another person. The figure had golden hair, bright red eyes, and small pink lips.

"Lord Feng Lu Che, my name is Storm."

'Master.'

Luna gasped upon seeing a much younger Storm Rider.

In response, the man Luna was observing through spoke in a deep and powerful voice.

"I know who you are, Witch of Protection. I also know of the small sect you started to carry on your legacy, and how the Order of Heavens won't let that little covenant of yours stand."

"Hehe… The mighty Dragon of the Ice Wing is interested in my affairs." Storm Rider smirked. "But yes, the Order of the Heavens won't allow my little sect to remain in this realm. It will be destroyed, and all its occupants will cease to exist."

Before he could speak again, Storm Rider opened her palm, revealing a leather patch, a white book, and a crystal feather.

"May I present my offerings before you say anything else. That is wine brewed from a Fire Heart tree that grows here in the Dreaming. The book contains the enchantments of an Arcane-Level Ice Master. And that is the Feather of Enlightenment. You can use it for inspiration whenever you're doing your research. I heard you're a scholar, so the Feather might be of use."

The wide-eyed lord leaned back, obviously impressed. "What does one of the Great Ones want from me?"

Storm Rider smiled.

"…I want one thing from you, Lord. I was hoping you could hide this castle beneath your illusions. Hide the Astral Castle from the eyes of the Order of the Heavens. The mortals will need it in the future."

Through his eyes, Luna felt a wave of confusion.

"The future? You Great Ones are so damn confusing. But fine. I'll hide the Astral Castle."

"Thank you."

The vision shifted immediately.

In the next scene, the Feng Lord stood alone, gazing into a mirror held in his hand. Yet the mirror reflected nothing but stars and the endless stretch of space.

He stood in silence, within the same pavilion.

"I'm so old now," he muttered. "I suppose I'll die here. That vixen tricked me into staying, and I ended up trapped in the Dreaming."

The strength in his voice was gone. It was now raspy and crooked, the voice of a man who had lived far too long.

Luna felt every inch of the old man's emotion. His pain. His fear of death. And the strange calmness and wisdom he had preserved through centuries of isolation. He didn't look broken or deranged like some mad hermit. No. He was healthy. Composed, but tired.

"That vixen is the only reason you're still alive," a voice spoke from the shadows.

When he turned, a woman stood in the far corner of the pavilion. She wore a white battle robe, its fabric stitched with gold and silver markings that shimmered faintly in the dim light. The brightness around her face made it hard to see her features clearly, but her presence was unmistakable. It pressed against the air like a divine wind.

This was no mere Ascender.

It was a godlike being. And a familiar one because of her voice.

Lord Lu Che fell to his knees without hesitation and dropped his head to the floor.

"My lady…"

"The Order of the Heavens will fall one day thanks to your actions, Lord Lu Che," she said softly. "The knowledge you've gathered about the Creator may indeed save the mortal world one day. You've done well, Dream Lord."

"I am honored to be of service." His voice trembled slightly. "I have long wished to return to the Ice Wing Sect, but… I would be executed for abandoning my clan. So I ask for one favour, may you turn my essence into something lovely? A cherry tree… with beautiful pink flowers."

The divine woman was silent for a moment, as if honoring the request with thought. Then, in a voice as gentle as drifting snow, she asked:

"Would you like it to bloom outside?"

He shook his head.

"No… I want it here." He pointed toward the center of the pavilion. "I want the future to remember me when they walk this place. My essence will remain, because my soul is immortal. Something like that shouldn't be impossible for a person like you."

"It isn't," she then let out a soft chuckle. "What an interesting decision, Dream Lord."

He offered her a small, weary smile.

"I also have one last question, my lady."

"Ask. I owe you that much at least."

"Why are you doing all this?"

The godlike being smiled from within the glow that veiled her face.

"For a better future," she answered. "That's all I can tell you."

"That is enough for me, my lady," he whispered. He bowed his head one last time, content. As an old man approaching his twilight, that answer was more than enough.

The memory dissolved into mist.

Luna gasped as her eyes opened.

She was back in the pavilion, sitting cross-legged in the same place. The tree stood before her, its petals fluttering softly in the dreamlight.

Her eyes were wet.

The emotions of Lu Che—an ancestor she had never known—had poured into her like a rising tide. She felt his quiet sorrow, his wisdom, his deep yearning to be remembered. And a tingling pain spread through her body as his final wish echoed within her soul.

"So…the tree and this powerful essence are his. Lord Feng Lu Che's."

He was an ancestor Luna hadn't known of until minutes ago. One of the forgotten blood, claimed by the Curse on Fate. He was a follower of the true path who had chosen to return to the Divine Realm, where the Feng Clan had first originated.

'I'm guessing my blood is getting more serious now that I'm exploring familiar territory,' she thought.

After steadying her breath, she rose to her feet once more and faced the cherry tree with narrowed eyes. Her gaze held focus as she cleared her mind and tried to remind herself of her purpose. She reached out toward the stronger essence again—but this time, she didn't ask. She commanded and forced it to dominate because this tree and essence were connected to her as a Feng.

"Why bother trying to balance when you control the scale?"

Almost instantly, the specks of light began to crackle and pulse, responding to her authority. They surged toward her like moths to flame. The moment they made contact with her skin, a torrent of information flooded her senses, so much that blood poured from her nose.

Her dark eyes flared gold.

Her soul clashed with the strong essence, sparking a reaction so raw, so volatile, that her body endured perhaps the worst backlash in the history of mankind.

Winds erupted violently around her. The cherry tree shook as if caught in a tempest. At the center of it all, the essence gathered into her palm and took shape, coalescing into a brilliant ember flame.

It burned with silent grace for several seconds before vanishing in a soft puff, leaving her breathless, bleeding, and kneeling on the blood-slick floor of the pavilion.

The wind ceased. Silence returned. And then....

"Hahahahahahahaha…"

Despite the agony wrecking her body, Luna threw her head back and laughed.

"Of course I had to find my way," she muttered between breaths. "And that way… was through understanding something about myself....my complete self."

She pressed her palm to the floor, trembling but steadying herself.

"…The Heavenly Supreme was born from the concept of Absolute Balance," she whispered.

'I am the inheritor of his lineage, and therefore I'm an extension of Balance.'

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