2026-02-06 18:02:44
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251.
Nimira turned without saying another word. Her silver-white gown swayed gently with each step, leaving behind traces of dew that slowly faded on the stone floor. Ardhana followed, his steps steady, though his face was filled with questions.They walked through a long corridor behind the altar, where stone walls were adorned with lotus and dragon reliefs covered in damp moss. The deeper they went, the heavier the air felt, as if it held great secrets about the organization hidden beneath the Seven Ghost Cities.Eventually, they arrived in a circular chamber. At its center stood a stone table engraved with the Sacred Lotus emblem, and upon it lay a map of seven hidden territories. Bluish-green lanterns hung low, illuminating several red points that glowed like blood.Nimira stopped before the table and looked at Ardhana.“Dragon’s son… your grandfather, the Great King, indeed died at the hands of the death warriors of the Sacred Lotus Nation.”Ardhana frowned. “I know that. But I don’t
250.
From behind the faintly shimmering lotus pond, the silhouette of a woman slowly stepped forward. Her footsteps were calm, yet each step seemed to ripple the water around her.Her gown was silver-white, long enough to brush the floor, and a silver mask covered half of her face. Her hair was tied high with a pale pink ribbon—the only soft color in that shadow-filled place.Ardhana slowly raised his head, his eyes meeting the sharp gaze of the woman. Calm eyes, yet undeniably dangerous.The woman spoke, her voice cool but carrying an undeniable authority.“My name is Nimira, the successor to the head of the Sacred Lotus Pavilion. And you…” she paused, her gaze sharpening at the golden plaque in Ardhana’s hand. “You carry a symbol of honor without my direct permission. That means someone outside has placed great trust in you. But here, trust is measured by one’s ability…”Nimira raised her hand, and the water in the pond began to swirl as if pulled by an unseen force. From its depths, a s
249.
The Seven Ghost Cities.The city appeared silent. From where Ardhana stood, he could see a few guards patrolling back and forth in the distance.Their formation was tight, disciplined—reminding him of the forces that once invaded the nation of Amerta.“Blades… They are members of the Blades…”Sharp swords sheathed neatly, black veils covering their faces. The Blades had once been defeated by his father. But years had passed, and after witnessing that defeat—after capturing his father—their strength had likely grown.“They say this force has been hunting the Rebel faction continuously… so why haven’t they found the Sacred Lotus Pavilion?” Questions filled his mind, yet Ardhana stepped forward without fear.He moved stealthily, slipping from one tree to another.In the midst of his silent advance—Ardhana crouched behind the ruins of a broken wall, his eyes carefully observing the movements of the patrol.Their movements were precise, disciplined. Every step calculated, as if they allow
248.
Ardhana lifted his chin, a faint smile still lingering on his face. The sound of branches snapping underfoot signaled that they were no longer hiding. The cold night wind swept through, deepening the silence before the storm.“So you’ve chosen to wage war in the forest,” he said calmly. “Very well. Show me why you brought your swords out at this hour.”One of the ten men stepped forward, his voice hoarse—the kind often used by executioners. “You humiliated Commander Lio, brat! The order is clear—kill you or bring your body back. Alive or dead, the payment is the same!”Ardhana looked at them. In a glance, he read the fear hidden in their eyes, overshadowed by greed fueled by promised rewards—enough to give them the courage to take on Lio’s command.Wuuuuuush! Wuuuuuush!Without hesitation, the attackers charged at once. They wanted to finish off a lone young man quickly—making one fatal mistake.Ardhana stepped back, then moved like a shadow. No mystical techniques—just agility honed
247.
Ardhana lowered his head briefly, placing his fingertips against the old man’s wrist. The pulse he felt was faint and rapid, like an overstretched string. His expression changed—not from surprise, but from certainty.“Not just COPD,” Ardhana murmured softly, locking his gaze onto Commander Lio. “There’s a mixture of marine alkaloids—poison in small doses that worsens lung attacks. He’s been slowly poisoned for weeks. It made the factory doctors believe it was a natural condition. But I can cleanse the toxin, if you give me five minutes and some herbs from that alley herbalist.”Lio scoffed. “You’re not allowed—”“Silence!” a woman from the crowd cut him off. “If this young man can save the old man, then let him! A life cannot be bought!”Supportive whispers spread, while the objections from officials began to falter. Lio glared at Ardhana, his face reddening from public humiliation. “Do you think this is a performance? We won’t allow chaos!”Ardhana stood up. “If you want to win, woul
246.
Ardhana Putra stepped down from the border train with calm strides, but his chest pounded—not from exhaustion, but from the thick, foreign atmosphere. It came from the scent of salt, the charcoal smoke from ship furnaces, and the wary whispers of Dumai’s people, who looked at every stranger as if spotting a weasel in a cornfield.Beneath his black hat, his eyes narrowed, marking the line of checkpoint posts. In the distance, Dumai’s flags fluttered harshly atop stone poles—a symbol of power that refused to be humiliated. He knew that every small step he took would be weighed by countless eyes.A checkpoint officer approached, his arm gripping a long spear. “Who are you, stranger? What is your business at the Dumai border?”Ardhana lowered his head politely. “Traveling alone. Searching for traces of the past, not to cause trouble. I only wish to see Dumai up close.”The officer stared for a long moment, then sneered. “Be careful, outsider. Dumai is not kind to those who come merely to
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