As Xia's final words lingered in the air, the pavilion itself seemed to exhale. Space rippled like disturbed water, and luminous portals bloomed into existence—each private chamber birthed a swirling vortex of silver and cobalt energy, while the ground floor became studded with larger, communal gates humming with restrained power.
The third-floor guests departed first, their exits as distinctive as their reputations.
Alchemist Song's portal flared with emerald runes that smelled of crushed herbs and molten starsteel; he stepped through without glancing back, his robes dissolving into fractal patterns of light.
Chess Paragon's departure was a silent affair—his chamber's portal unfolded like an infinite chessboard, swallowing him in a cascade of black-and-white spatial tiles that clicked shut like a celestial lock.
Martial Lord laughed as his portal manifested—a jagged tear bleeding crimson light.
