The Tales of the Legendary Mimic : Momo

Destruction nears(2)

The grand hall of the Cloudsky Sect was alive with murmurs, the air thick with the scent of sandalwood and tension. The elders sat in a semicircle, their robes—azure, silver, and deep violet—marking their ranks. At the center stood IX69, his presence commanding silence with a mere glance. Beside him, the Purple Night Flower Goddess lounged on a floating lotus, her silver eyes half-lidded, yet missing nothing.

The issue at hand? The Water Turtle Key—a relic capable of opening the Blessed Realm—was insufficient for the thousands of disciples vying for entry.

Elder Voren, a broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his cheek, slammed his fist on the table. "We cannot allow chaos! If we let every disciple fight for entry, blood will flood the training grounds!"

Elder Hagan, his rival, sneered. "Then what do you propose? Handpick favorites? The key’s energy is limited. Only the strongest should enter."

Arguments erupted, voices overlapping until—

"Enough."

The Flower Goddess’s voice cut through the noise like a blade. She lifted a hand, and a single purple lotus bloomed in her palm. "Let them fight. But not with blood. With valor."

A murmur rippled through the elders.

She continued, "Each disciple will wear a aura pendant shaped from the water turtle. When they defeat an opponent, the pendant absorbs their valor aura. Once filled, it will transport them directly into the realm."

The idea was met with stunned silence—then approval. Even the most traditional elders nodded. It was elegant. Efficient. Meritocratic.

IX69 gave a rare smirk. "Then it’s settled. The Aura Field Tournament begins at dawn."

The good will lasted precisely seven minutes.

An alarm blared, a resonant gong shaking the hall’s foundations. The doors burst open, and five figures strode in—uninvited, unannounced, unyielding.

At their lead was a golden-haired youth, his eyes like polished amber, his robes embroidered with the God Sealing Sect’s insignia—a chain wrapped around a bleeding sun. Behind him, four disciples stood like statues, their auras suppressed yet unmistakably elite.

The elders froze.

Elder Voren was the first to recover. "You dare trespass—?!"

The golden-haired youth ignored him, his gaze sweeping the room before landing on IX69. "I am Jin Luyang, heir of the God Sealing Sect’s third branch. I’ve come for two reasons."

A beat of silence. Then—

"First." He held up five fingers. "You will give me five of your Blessed Realm slots."

The elders erupted.

Elder Hagan shot to his feet. "You insolent—! The God Sealing Sect is a three-star force! By what right do you demand—?!"

Jin Luyang didn’t even blink. "By the right of the stronger."

The room chilled.

Then, he continued, "Second. The Destruction Dragon Race has returned."

The effect was instant.

Three elders slumped in their seats, faces pale.

A junior disciple even fainted outright.

Elder Voren’s scar turned white as bone.

Only IX69 remained unmoved, his expression unreadable.

Jin Luyang’s lips curled. "I see one among you has a spine." He nodded at IX69, a flicker of respect in his gaze. "The dragons are not yet at full strength, but their spies could be anywhere. Even here."

He let that hang, watching the elders squirm. "So you see, my presence is a mercy. I will enter your realm not just for the treasures—but to protect you."

The sheer audacity left the elders speechless,to shamelessly claim you had protect those you want to rob was only protecting your benefit.

Then, from the back of the hall, a laugh rang out.

The Purple Night Flower Goddess floated forward, her lotus petals shedding eerie light. "Oh, little lion. You talk so boldly for a cub."

Jin Luyang’s eyes narrowed.

She smiled. "Very well. Take your five slots. But know this—" Her voice dropped to a whisper, yet it echoed in every skull. "The Blessed Realm favors the worthy and the deserving. Not the entitled."

The golden-haired youth held her gaze—then smirked. "We’ll see."

As he turned to leave, his final words lingered like a curse:

The moment the intruders left, the hall exploded in outrage.

Elder Hagan spat. "That arrogant brat! We should—"

IX69 cut him off. "We proceed with the tournament. But now, we watch for spies." His gaze swept the room. "And we prepare for war."

The Flower Goddess chuckled, twirling a lock of hair. "Oh, this will be fun."

Outside, the disciples trained harder than ever—unaware that the real trial had already begun.

***