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The Grand Council Chamber of the Clear Water Sect was usually a place of absolute dignity. High Elders, whose cultivation realms bordered the mysterious horizons of the Core Formation stage, would sit on elevated jade dais seats, whispering of territorial expansions, ancient ruins, and medicinal herb quotas.
Today, there was no whispering. There was only panic.
The heavy mahogany doors of the chamber were sealed shut, reinforced by three separate layer formations of protective arrays. Inside, the temperature was still uncomfortably warm, a lingering scar from the divine pressure that had melted the Hall of the White Crane just hours prior.
"Explain this to me again, Elder Mo," Grand Patriarch Han voice rumbled, though it lacked its usual thunderous arrogance. He sat at the center of the crescent table, his long white beard trembling slightly. His old eyes were bloodshot. "You are telling this council that the sky split open, the Primordial Faith manifests over our mountains, and our sect was nearly turned into a footprint because you wanted to hunt a fox cub?"
Elder Mo stood at the center of the room, his midnight-blue inner robes soaked through with cold sweat. He looked ten years older. His hands were wrapped in spirit-soothing bandages to stop the trembling caused by his fractured Qi core.
"Patriarch... I swear on my path to immortality, everything Zhao said was true," Mo wheezed, keeping his head bowed low to avoid the furious gazes of his peers. "The white fire... it wasn't a beast's core mutation. It was a localized manifestation of the Vermilion Phoenix. When I attempted to bypass the warning and command Vanguard Lin to strike, the pressure alone... it nearly shattered my core. Lin is currently in the medical pavilion, blind and deaf from the sensory backlash."
"Fool! Absolute fool!" High Elder Ge slammed his fist onto the crescent table, cracking the polished stone. "We are a regional sect! We hold power over three cities and a mountain range! We do not possess the karma to handle a Primordial Entity! If those entities willed it, they could wipe our entire Azure Cloud Continent off the map with a single flap of their wings!"
"Is the locking formation fully active?" another Elder asked, his voice laced with anxiety.
"Yes, Elder," the Sect Array Master reported, stepping forward with a pale face. "The mountain-protecting array has been shifted to absolute defense. No one leaves. No one enters. We have cut off all communication with our outer mortal clans. The southern forest has been marked as a forbidden zone of the highest tier. We have posted boundary stones every ten meters stating that any disciple who steps an inch past the tree line will be executed on the spot."
Grand Patriarch Han closed his eyes, massaging his temples. The weight of managing an entire sect was heavy, but managing a sect that was a single bad decision away from being vaporized by cosmic gods was paralyzing.
"What of the outer disciples who witnessed the hunt?" Han asked coldly. "Zhao and the survivors?"
"They have been placed under a strict soul-vow of silence, Patriarch," Elder Mo answered quickly, desperate to redeem himself. "If they speak a single word of the Primordial Goddesses or the white fox to the public, their meridians will instantly implode. The official story for the outer sect is that our hall suffered an internal array backfire during a cultivation experiment."
"Good," Patriarch Han muttered, opening his eyes. A sharp, desperate light gleamed within them. "We cannot let the larger sects or the Imperial Court know what resides in our forest. If a Major Sect finds out that a beast with primordial backing is sitting in our backyard, they will send their supreme elders to investigate. If those elders provoke the beast... our territory will become the battlefield of gods."
The Grand Patriarch stood up, his flowing robes cascading around him as he gestured to the entire council.
"Hear my command. From this day forth, the Clear Water Sect is in absolute seclusion. We do not participate in the regional tournaments. We do not recruit new disciples this season. We will sit on our peaks, refine our Qi, and pray to the heavens that the sacred beast in the forest forgets our existence."
As the council members bowed in unison, a heavy, silent consensus settled over the room. They were the masters of the mountain, but to the creature resting in the valley below, they were nothing more than ants praying the boot wouldn't drop.