I could hear theming. Footsteps echoed through the ancient hall of the Immortal Bane Sect, growing louder with each passing second. My wrists burned against the spirit bindings that kept my energy suppressed, but I didn''t have time to struggle further. They were almost here.


    Desperation makes a man think quickly. With my back to the entrance, I slid into the Sect Leader''s chair—the same throne where the masked woman had once sat before ughtering everyone in this ce. If I couldn''t fight, I''d have to bluff.


    "This way," amanding voice echoed through the corridor. Julian Radford.


    I stilled my breathing, kept my back to the entrance, and prayed to whatever gods might be listening that my gamble would pay off. The footsteps grew louder, apanied by excited whispers.


    "Remarkable," Julian''s voice carried into the Great Hall. "The Immortal Bane Sect, preserved after all these centuries."


    "It appears abandoned," another voice said. Dominic Ashworth. My jaw clenched involuntarily at the sound of Isabelle''s cousin.


    "Not abandoned," Julian corrected. "Destroyed. ording to ancient records, the Immortal Bane Sect was wiped out in a single night by a mysterious force."


    I remained motionless as they ventured further into the hall, hoping my silhouette against the throne would be mistaken for a statue or relic.


    "Their techniques were said to be unparalleled," Julian continued, his voice filled with reverence. "They cultivated both light and dark energies simultaneously, defying the naturalws that govern our cultivation world."


    Someone scoffed. "Sounds like a fairy tale."


    "Many things sound like fairy tales until you witness them firsthand," Julian replied sharply.


    Their footsteps grew closer. I could feel sweat beading on my forehead despite the cold air of the underground chamber.


    Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the hall, carrying with it an unnatural chill. I hadn''t moved, hadn''t caused it, but the timing couldn''t have been worse—or better.


    "Did you feel that?" Julian''s voice dropped to a whisper, tension evident in every syble.


    The group fell silent. I could practically feel their fear radiating through the chamber.


    "Senior," Julian called out, his voice wavering slightly. "If you''re present, we mean no disrespect by our intrusion."


    I almostughed at the absurdity of my situation. Julian Radford, the powerful representative of the Veridia City Martial Guild, was addressing me with reverence, thinking I was some ancient cultivator.


    "What a load of bullshit," a voice cut through the silence. "There''s no one here but us. You''re jumping at shadows, Radford."


    I recognized that voice. Frederick Cohen, one of the arrogant young masters who had participated in the hunt for me earlier.


    "Show some respect," Dominic hissed. "Master Radford is—"


    "Master Radford is seeing ghosts," Frederick interrupted. "We came here for treasures and techniques, not to kowtow to empty rooms."


    Julian''s voice remained calm, but I could hear the underlying tension. "Frederick, your impudence will—"


    "Will what?" Frederick challenged. "We''ve all seen how you operate now, Radford. Making deals with that snake Dudley, nning to sacrifice the weaker cultivators. Your precious Guild isn''t as righteous as you pretend."


    A heavy silence fell over the chamber. So Frederick had overheard Julian''s ns. Interesting.


    "Watch your tongue, Cohen," Dominic warned. "You speak to the future chairman of the Veridia City Martial Guild."


    "Future chairman?" Frederickughed bitterly. "Is that what he promised you for your loyalty? A pretty title while he continues pulling the strings?"


    I remained still, absorbing every word. This discord could work in my favor.


    "Enough," Julian''s voice cut through the argument. "We''re here for a purpose. Frederick, if you cannot control yourself, you may return to the surface."


    "And miss watching you scramble for power?" Frederick replied. "I don''t think so."


    Dominic''s voice dropped to a dangerous octave. "You dare mock the Ashworth family''s alliance with the Guild? Do you know who I am?"


    "A puppet," Frederick said tly. "A well-dressed puppet who thinks he''s holding his own strings."


    I could almost feel Dominic''s rage from across the chamber. Family pride was everything to an Ashworth.


    "How dare you?" Dominic sputtered. "My family has—"


    "Your family has what?" Frederick interrupted. "Money? Influence? Yet here you are, kissing Julian''s boots in hopes of a position that will never truly be yours."


    The tension in the room was palpable. I remained motionless, wondering how I could use this conflict to my advantage.


    "Frederick," Julian''s voice was ice cold. "This insubordination will not be forgotten."


    "Good," Frederick replied. "I''d hate for you to forget who exposed your little n to sacrifice the others."


    Another ufortable silence fell. I could hear shuffling feet as the other martial artists present tried to distance themselves from the argument.


    "What n?" someone whispered.


    Julian cleared his throat. "Frederick misunderstood a private conversation. Now, shall we continue our exploration?"


    "Misunderstood?" Frederickughed. "I heard you order Dudley to kill all the lower-level cultivators once we reached this ce. Was that a misunderstanding?"


    Gasps echoed through the hall. I smiled slightly, hidden from their view. Dissension in their ranks could only help me.


    "These usations are baseless," Julian said smoothly. "Frederick clearly holds a grudge—"


    "Save your lies," Frederick cut in. "I heard everything. You nned to me their deaths on the dangers of the Mystic Realm or on Liam Knight if he somehow survived."


    At the mention of my name, I tensed slightly but maintained my stillness.


    "Speaking of Knight," Dominic interjected, clearly trying to change the subject, "his death was unfortunate. Despite being our enemy, his strength was admirable."


    "If he''s truly dead," Frederick muttered.


    "You doubt it?" Julian asked, voice sharp with interest.


    "I''ve seen that bastard survive things that would kill anyone else," Frederick replied. "I won''t believe he''s gone until I see his corpse."


    Smart man, I thought grimly.


    "Regardless," Julian said, "we should proceed with caution. This sect was known for its deadly traps and formations."


    I heard footsteps spreading out as they began to explore the hall. They were getting dangerously close to discovering me.


    "Look at these inscriptions," someone said. "Ancient cultivation techniques?"


    "Don''t touch anything without proper examination," Julian warned.


    A few moments of silence followed as they presumably studied the walls and artifacts around them.


    "Master Radford," Dominic''s voice carried a note of excitement, "these appear to be records of the sect''s dual cultivation method. If we could decipher them—"


    "The Veridia City Martial Guild would be unstoppable," Julian finished for him. "Gather as much as you can."


    Their voices drew closer to where I sat, motionless on the throne. It was only a matter of time before they circled around and saw me.


    "What about that chair?" someone asked. My heart nearly stopped.


    "The Sect Leader''s throne," Julian replied, his voice now rmingly close. "ording to legend, only those with the proper bloodline could sit upon it without triggering its defensive mechanisms."


    Well, that would have been useful information before I decided to sit here, I thought wryly.


    "Someone''s there," a voice suddenly called out.


    My time had run out. I had seconds to decide my next move.


    "Impossible," Julian muttered, footsteps hurrying toward me.


    I could flee, try to fight despite my bindings, or continue the bluff. With my options limited, I chose the third path.


    Slowly, deliberately, I turned the chair to face them.


    Julian Radford stood mere feet away, his face draining of color as he recognized me. Behind him, Dominic Ashworth''s expression shifted from shock to rage. Frederick Cohen, standing off to the side, looked genuinely impressed.


    "Liam Knight," Julian breathed, taking an involuntary step backward. <samp ss="meta-ref-static">If you''re not on *, you''re viewing a copy.</samp>


    I stared at them impassively, channeling every ounce of confidence I could muster despite my bound state.


    "You''re supposed to be dead," Dominic sputtered.


    "Many have made that mistake," I replied coldly, my voice echoing through the chamber with more authority than I felt.


    Julian''s eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. "You''re bound," he observed, noticing the spirit bindings around my wrists.


    "And yet," I said, meeting his gaze unflinchingly, "I sit on the Sect Leader''s throne unharmed."


    A murmur ran through the group. The throne''s legend was working in my favor.


    "A coincidence," Dominic dered, stepping forward. "He''s helpless. We should kill him now."


    "Wait," Julian raised a hand, studying me intently. "The throne epts him. That''s... significant."


    I maintained myposed facade, though inwardly I was calcting every possible escape route. "Perhaps," I suggested, "we should discuss why you''re all trespassing in my sect."


    It was a bold im, one that could backfire spectacrly, but I needed to keep them off bnce.


    "Your sect?" Frederick Cohenughed incredulously. "You expect us to believe you''re somehow connected to the Immortal Bane Sect?"


    I smiled thinly. "I''m sitting on their throne, aren''t I?"


    Julian''s expression was calcting. "If you truly had any connection to this ce, you wouldn''t be bound like amon prisoner."


    "Appearances can be deceiving," I countered. "As can deaths at the bottom of the sea."


    The standoff continued, tension crackling in the air. I needed to maintain this precarious advantage until I could find a way to break my bindings.


    "Enough of this farce," Dominic snapped, drawing a de. "Let''s end him now."


    Before he could step forward, Frederick moved between us. "Are you truly so eager to die, Ashworth? If the throne epts him, attacking might trigger whatever ancient formations protect this ce."


    Julian nodded slowly. "Frederick raises a valid point. We should proceed with caution."


    Dominic''s face flushed with anger. "You would let fear stay your hand? He''s bound! Helpless!"


    "Am I?" I asked quietly, the question hanging in the air like a threat.


    Julian studied me, his expression unreadable. "What are you doing here, Knight? How did you survive the depths?"


    I chose my words carefully. "I go where I''m meant to go. Death rejects me for a reason."


    Cryptic nonsense, but it seemed to unsettle them further.


    "He''s bluffing," Dominic insisted. "I''ll prove it." He stepped forward, de raised.


    "Dominic, stop!" Julianmanded.


    Frederick Cohen shook his head in disgust. "F**k off, spouting nonsense. With such a small heart, it''s better to go home and suckle – don''te out of your mom''s embrace at all!"