The conversation meandered through the usual business of the cults—territorial disputes, resource allocation, the occasional backhanded remark—before finally veering into more pressing matters.
"I hear there's a new rising star this generation," Kael Nyctharis said, his voice as smooth as the shadows that seemed to cling to him. His dark eyes flicked toward Alyssara, who was lazily twirling a lock of pink hair around her finger. "Arthur Nightingale. The boy who's already defeated three Ascendant-rankers from the vampires and your Red Chalice cult. And all that before turning eighteen."
Alyssara's lips curled into a sly smile, and she gave a languid nod, her eyes glinting with mischief as she winked. "Quite the prodigy, isn't he?"
"Even more of a threat than that Lucifer brat?" Vorgath rumbled, slamming back another gulp of vodka. The bottle clanked against the table as he set it down with a force that made the other cult leaders glance his way.
"Much more," Kael confirmed, his tone clipped. "By all accounts, Arthur is operating on a level far beyond Lucifer Windward."
"Ho," Vorgath grunted, his interest piqued. "I wonder if he could survive a swing of my axe."
"Don't be ridiculous," Xaldris Dreadfang interjected, his deep voice steady and unamused. His violet eyes glimmered like the depths of a storm. "He's just a boy. Impressive, yes, but still leagues beneath us."
"Leagues, you say?" Alyssara murmured, her tone laced with a strange mix of amusement and something sharper, something darker. "Careful, Xaldris. Underestimating that boy has cost others dearly."
Vorgath chuckled, the sound like rolling thunder. "Maybe. But a child is still a child. If he's as dangerous as you say, he'll grow. And when he does, I'll be waiting."
Kael leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in a gesture that was both relaxed and calculated. "He's not just a prodigy; he's a symbol. The East looks to him, the academies hail him as the pinnacle of talent, and his victories have already inspired countless others to rise. A symbol like that is as dangerous as his blade."
Alyssara's smile widened, though her eyes seemed to darken. "Oh, he's much more than a symbol. Arthur Nightingale is… unique. And uniquely problematic for all of us."
Kael's gaze lingered on her for a moment, his interest evident. "You seem to know him well."
Alyssara shrugged, leaning back with a breezy air. "Let's just say I've been keeping an eye on him. He has a way of drawing attention."
"Well, let's hope that attention doesn't turn toward us anytime soon," Xaldris said, his voice low. "We've got enough problems without adding a boy wonder to the mix."
The table fell silent for a moment, the weight of the discussion settling over them like a heavy shroud. Alyssara's smile remained, but there was something inscrutable in her expression—something none of the others could quite place.
Alyssara's thoughts drifted, as they often did these days, to Arthur Nightingale. Should she redirect the attention of the cult leaders toward him? The idea was tempting, but she dismissed it almost immediately. No, Arthur was still too weak to face the kind of scrutiny she could summon.
Not yet.
If he reached Immortal-rank, perhaps then it would be worth it. Until then, she wasn't about to squander his potential.
A faint smile tugged at her lips as she leaned back in her chair, her focus entirely detached from the ongoing discussion. The other leaders bickered over territories and resources, their voices blending into a monotonous hum. Alyssara couldn't care less. Her mind was elsewhere, drawn to the memory of Arthur's piercing blue eyes and the maddening enigma they held.
She shifted slightly, her fingers tracing the edge of the table. 'I want to see him again. In person,' she mused. It had been too long, and her restlessness only grew with each passing day.
Evelyn's sharp voice broke through her reverie. "Did your eye color change?"
The question snapped Alyssara back to the room. The other cult leaders turned to look at her, their expressions varying from curiosity to suspicion. She blinked, momentarily thrown off, before her grin reasserted itself.
"Oh, yeah. Cool, right?" she said breezily, flashing a grin meant to disarm. She gestured vaguely at her jade-green eyes, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
But Evelyn's dark eyes narrowed. Unlike the others, she wasn't so easily placated. There was something different about Alyssara, something that went beyond her apparent change in eye color. Evelyn's instincts whispered that there was more to this shift—something just out of reach.
The other leaders eventually returned to their discussions, but Evelyn's gaze lingered, her unease simmering beneath her stoic exterior. Alyssara, for her part, played the part of nonchalance perfectly. She twirled a strand of pink hair around her finger, her smile never faltering, but inwardly, she was amused by Evelyn's scrutiny.
In terms of raw power, Alyssara was unmatched among the gathered cult leaders. At mid Radiant-rank, she had lived far longer and achieved far more than any of them, her mastery over black mana nearly absolute. Yet Evelyn's doubt, her flickering sense of something off, was not misplaced.
Alyssara had changed. But not in any way Evelyn's senses could confirm. That was what made it so deliciously amusing. It wasn't a matter of strength or presence. It was something subtler. Something deeper.
And Alyssara had no intention of explaining it.
'She looks so cute, trying to see through me,' Alyssara mused, watching Evelyn's subtle attempts to dissect her. It was almost endearing. Reaching high Radiant-rank had brought Alyssara not just immense power but also the ability to conceal it with ease. To the gathered cult leaders—none of whom surpassed low Radiant-rank—her aura appeared to plateau comfortably at mid Radiant-rank.
It was an impeccable disguise, almost too easy to maintain.
The only inconvenience, really, was her eyes. That jade-green hue was harder to explain away. Alyssara could sense the growing suspicion in the room, even if the leaders refrained from voicing it outright. She knew better than to underestimate them; any misstep could stoke their wariness. And wariness led to questions. Questions, in turn, led to problems.
'And I hate problems,' she thought with a hint of irritation.
No, revealing the true depths of her power would serve no purpose. Let them believe what they wanted. Let them assume she was merely a prodigious mid Radiant-ranker, their equal or only slightly superior. Her time to act openly would come soon enough, but not now.
For now, Alyssara had her sights set higher. Much higher.
'I still need to grow stronger.'
That thought settled in her mind like an immutable truth. High Radiant-rank was far from the summit she intended to scale. The true peak awaited her, tantalizingly close yet maddeningly out of reach. Her crimson threads coiled and uncoiled around her fingers beneath the table as she considered her next steps. She would ascend further, surpass them all—these cult leaders, the Radiant-rankers of humanity, even the so-called gods if she must.
'But not today.'
Today, she would smile. Today, she would charm. Today, she would let them think they had her figured out. After all, letting them underestimate her only made her eventual triumph all the sweeter.