Volume 2, Chapter 35: The Hall of Five Sovereigns
Yuhao couldn't sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw violet gravity warping the air. He felt the phantom weight of the Star Crown pressing on his chest, and his ears wouldn't stop ringing from the high-pitched hum of Ma Xiaotao's compressed fire. His brain was too loud, a chaotic library where all the books had fallen off the shelves at once.
He rolled out of his bunk, grabbed a thin hoodie, and slipped out of the Anito dorms.
The capital at night was beautiful, if you liked that sort of thing. The streets of Spirit City were wide and clean, lit by soft, amber Crystalline lamps that didn't flicker. It was too perfect. Sometimes, Yuhao missed the grit and the smell of roasting meat in the lower sectors.
He walked until he reached the Hall of the Five Sovereigns. It was a massive, circular museum built on the site of the old Supreme Pontiff's palace. It wasn't guarded by soldiers, but by the sheer weight of history.
He pushed open the heavy bronze doors. The interior was vast and cool, smelling of old paper, cold stone, and a faint, lingering scent of sandalwood.
•••••••
Yuhao walked slowly down the central corridor. This wasn't a place for casual tourists; it was a cathedral of the Federation's soul.
In the center of the rotunda stood the five statues. They weren't just stone; they were carved from Star-Iron and infused with enough Crystalline energy to make the air vibrate.
He stopped in front of the first statue: Bibi Dong, the Slaughter Goddess. She didn't look like a monster. She looked regal, holding a Scythe that seemed to drink the light around it. The plaques talked about how she had combined the Rakshasa core with the Law of the Deep, and added the Core of Asura, becoming a unique existence — the only one of her kind in the multiverse.
Next was Qian Renxue, the Prismatic Angel. Her wings were carved from translucent quartz that refracted the amber light of the hall into seven distinct colors. She represented the "True Sun," the balance of Light and Gravity. Yuhao looked at the statue's eyes and felt a strange sense of vertigo. She looked like she was about to deconstruct him just for standing there.
Then came Shui Bing'er, the Goddess of the Glacial Origin, whose aura of absolute zero still seemed to keep the room cool. Beside her was Zhu Zhuqing, the Goddess of the Eternal Night, whose form seemed to shift and blur if you looked at her from the corner of your eye. And finally, the pedestal for Gu Yuena, the Dragon God, the 5th wife, whose presence tied the spirit beast world to the Federation.
And above them all, carved into the very dome of the ceiling, was the Great Phoenix.
So many stories are told about him. About how he, from a humble background, awakened a God Level Martial Soul, orphaned because nobles killed his parents at a young age. Shared all his knowledge — knowledge about Baybayin, his Eight Directional Flow, the creation of Soul Cores, and more.
Yuhao sat on a stone bench, looking up at the Phoenix. "Do you ever get tired of the noise?" he whispered to the empty room.
"They don't hear you, you know."
Yuhao didn't jump. He had felt the localized hum of Crystalline circuits approaching for the last minute.
Xiao Hongchen was standing at the edge of the rotunda. He wasn't wearing his flashy silver uniform. He was in a simple grey sweater and dark pants, looking remarkably human. Without his team behind him, he looked… small.
"I come here when the engineers won't stop talking," Xiao said, walking up to the bench. He didn't ask for permission; he just sat down. He smelled like expensive cologne and metallic oil. "The silence in here is the only thing in this city that isn't for sale."
"I thought you liked the noise," Yuhao said, not looking at him. "You seemed pretty loud at the banquet."
Xiao let out a short, dry laugh. It wasn't the arrogant smirk from before. It was the sound of someone who was exhausted. "That's a performance, Yuhao. People expect the Sun-Moon captain to be a genius, a prince, and a conqueror. If I don't act the part, the investors get nervous. The Council starts looking at my sister and me like we're faulty components."
He looked up at the statue of Qian Renxue.
"My family… we aren't like the Xu or the Dai," Xiao said quietly. "We didn't have a High-Councilor seat handed to us by blood. We built the Sun-Moon Empire out of scrap metal and ambition. Every year, the Federation expects us to be faster, stronger, and more perfect. Do you have any idea what it's like to have an entire empire's reputation resting on your shoulders?"
"I'm a Level 19 orphan," Yuhao said flatly. "I think my shoulders are a bit lighter than yours."
"Are they?" Xiao turned to him. His eyes were bloodshot. "I saw you in the arena today. You weren't fighting for a grade. You were fighting because if you failed, your friends would have been crushed. You carry their lives. I carry a legacy. It's the same weight, just a different color."
Yuhao looked at the Sun-Moon captain. For the first time, he didn't see a rival. He saw a kid who was just as trapped in the machine as everyone else. Why was the world like this? Why did everyone have to be a weapon?
"I'm going to beat you tomorrow," Xiao said, but there was no malice in it. "Not because I hate you. But because if I lose, the Sun-Moon dream dies. And I can't let that happen."
"We'll see," Yuhao replied.
The conversation died, leaving them in a surprisingly comfortable silence. They sat there for a long time, two kids in a room full of Gods, trying to find a reason to keep running the next day.
But then, the amber light began to change.
It didn't dim. It didn't flicker like a dying bulb. It simply… thinned.
Yuhao felt the hair on his arms stand up. The warmth from the Crystalline lamps didn't just go away; it was erased. The vibrant colors of Qian Renxue's wings faded into a dull, flat grey. The scent of sandalwood vanished, replaced by the smell of dry, dusty earth.
"What is that?" Xiao asked, standing up. He reached for his belt, but he wasn't wearing his soul tool triggers. "A power failure?"
"No," Yuhao said, his voice trembling. He opened the Gaze of Openings.
The wire-frame world of the museum was being eaten.
A thick, grey shadow was crawling across the marble floor. It didn't have a shape. It was like a spill of ink that absorbed all logic. Everywhere it touched, the movement of energy of the building — the ancient energy of the Sovereigns — simply stopped.
The grey decay.
"Get back!" Yuhao yelled.
A figure emerged from the shadow near the statue of Bibi Dong. It wasn't Chen Feng. It was a silhouette made of grey ash, clutching a jagged blade of dead wood. It moved with a jerky, unnatural rhythm, as if it were being pulled by invisible strings.
The lifeless grey shadow lunged at Xiao Hongchen.
Xiao tried to summon his martial soul, but the grey air seemed to choke his Crystalline circuits. The silver wires on his sweater sparked and went dark. He was a tech-user in a dead zone. He was defenseless.
"Xiao!"
Yuhao didn't think. He didn't have his team. He didn't have a weapon.
He lunged forward, using the Diamond Glide to bridge the gap. He grabbed Xiao's shoulder and yanked him backward, just as the wooden blade hissed through the air where Xiao's throat had been.
Yuhao felt the cold of the blade pass inches from his skin. It felt like a void, a hole in reality that wanted to pull his blood out.
He slammed his right fist into the floor, activating the Crystalline Vessel. He didn't aim for the shadow; he aimed for the floor's energy lines.
Panununtukan: Grounded Pulse!
He sent a massive vibration of soul power directly into the marble. He wasn't trying to damage the building, he was trying to kickstart the movement of energy. He forced his own warm, living energy into the cold, dead shadow.
The marble floor cracked with a loud CRACK! A brief, golden spark flared up with a sharp hiss!, reacting with the ancient residue of Lakan's energy in the hall.
The lifeless grey shadow recoiled, its form flickering like a bad hologram. It let out a sound like dry leaves rubbing together — a hiss of pure disappointment.
"The noise… still… persists," the shadow whispered.
And then, it dissolved into a pile of grey dust.
The amber lights flickered back on. The colors returned to the wings of the Angel. The museum looked normal again, except for the cracked marble floor where Yuhao had struck.
Xiao Hongchen was on the ground, panting, his face as white as a sheet. He looked at the pile of dust, then up at Yuhao.
"What… what was that?" Xiao rasped. "My circuits… they just died. That shouldn't be possible."
"It's the grey decay," Yuhao said, leaning against the pedestal of Bibi Dong's statue. He felt like he was going to vomit. The pulse had taken everything he had left. "It's not a soul skill. It's a cancer. And it's inside the capital."
Xiao stood up slowly, shaking. He looked at the cracked floor, then at the statues of the Sovereigns. The arrogance was gone. The prince was gone. There was only a terrified boy left.
"If that thing can get into the Hall of the Five Sovereigns," Xiao whispered, "then nowhere is safe."
"Tell your people," Yuhao said, turning toward the exit. "The finals tomorrow… it's not about the trophy anymore. We're fighting to keep things the way they are."
Yuhao walked out into the night, leaving Xiao Hongchen alone in the silent museum.
Far above, the Phoenix on the ceiling seemed to watch him go. But for the first time, Yuhao didn't feel like the world was too loud. He felt like the silence was coming, and he was the only one who knew how to scream.
End of Volume 2, Chapter 35