Regalias study room,
At 10 years of age she has already finished most literate cultural knowledge. now it was her time to start to play her game. she started to search books and scrolls with detailed and forbidden knowledge of the outside world. during the 10 years she has spent most of her time in the imperial archives. she has consumed over petabytes worth of word documents. these included knowledge about cultivation to even the different cultures .Meanwhile her brother has already started cultivation 1 year ago and have already reached initial stages of material sphere formation with is the third level. Regalia already checked the cultivation manuals and deemed that she needs to create her own technique for cultivation and not to follow the already existing path. For her to create a technique she needs a large amount of data.that is why she is spending most of her time in the imperial archives. soon she will realise that she needs to search for other other sources of knowledge. knowledge which is safeguarded by other races.
She leaned back in her plush chair, the soft fabric of her royal gown rustling as she adjusted herself. Her fingers grazed over the ancient scrolls laid before her, their yellowed edges a testament to their age. The candlelight flickered in the vast, opulent study, casting long shadows across the room. Here, in the quiet solitude of her private space in the royal palace, she could think, plan, and absorb the wealth of knowledge available to only a few.
The Racial Council ,she looked at the title of the scroll.Being the princess of the most powerful human empire, granted her privileges that are not enjoyed by most other races.
She unrolled the scroll in her hands, her sharp, calculating eyes scanning its contents. The Racial Council—the governing body of the Nine Races—was the keystone of order in the lower dimension. Made up of the most powerful and influential races in the lower dimension, it was a system that maintained an iron grip on power, resources and knowledge. These races were not merely political entities; they were the embodiment of power, each one wielding control over resources, cultivation methods, and territories that spanned the entirety of the explored lower dimension.
The Racial Council was composed of nine distinct races, each at the top of their respective domains. The council was designed to ensure that peace—and more importantly, power—remained within the hands of those who could wield it. The races were ranked according to their strength, influence, and the resources they controlled. To climb the ranks, one had to challenge the race above them and defeat them, this process is called and supremacy dao war taking their place while the defeated race fell by a level. The system was brutal, but it was effective—no one questioned it, at least not openly.
Regillia's empire, Ebonharth, is the strongest empire in the human race and as a result and because of the strength the humans wield the empire occupy the 4th position in the race council. The empire is the representative for the human race.
Her fingers lightly traced the words on the scroll, but her mind was elsewhere, contemplating the underlying truth. Peace was a myth, a façade the Nine Races had created to keep the lesser races in line. In reality, the council existed to maintain a balance of power that ensured the top races stayed in control, monopolizing rare cultivation resources like spirit veins, dimensional rifts, and unique laws. These resources were the lifeblood of their power. Any challenge to that power was swiftly quelled.
Regillia's lips curled into a faint smile, her thoughts growing darker. Exploitation was the true currency of power in the lower dimension. Lesser races—those who lacked the strength to rise above their stations—were used as pawns. Their people were forced into labor, exploited for their physical and spiritual resources, and sacrificed in cruel experiments. All to fuel the growth of the powerful, to maintain the council's control. It was a system that benefited only those who were strong enough to manipulate it.
And yet, within this well-ordered structure, there were cracks. Subtle, almost imperceptible, but there nonetheless. Rumors of rebellion were starting to circulate, a silent undercurrent running through the lower dimension. Lesser races were starting to question their subjugation. Whispers of a new leader, someone who was working in the shadows to undermine the council, were reaching Regillia's ears. The thought of it intrigued her. A rebellion would be a marvelous opportunity for her to exert her influence. Perhaps it could even be a means to further her own ambitions.
She set the scroll down, her expression unreadable. "Rebellion," she murmured softly to herself, the word tasting like honey on her tongue. "How quaint. How utterly predictable."
But beneath the detached tone, there was something darker. A flicker of excitement in her eyes. The game was shifting, and Regillia was never one to miss an opportunity. If she played her cards right, she could harness the chaos for her own gain.
"To challenge the Nine," she muttered, her voice a low, dangerous whisper, "they must first understand that power is not something given—it is something taken."
Her gaze shifted to the window, where the sprawling city of Duskvail lay below her, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. It was a symbol of strength, of her empire's dominance.
"Let them think they can rebel," she continued, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. "Let them believe there is hope. I will watch, I will wait, and when the time is right, I will take what is mine."
Her thoughts returned to the council—the Nine Races. The top races in the lower dimension, each with their own unique cultivation methods tied to their respective powers. The members of the 9 include
1.*******
2 *******
3. EXALONS
4. HUMANITY
5.ANCIENT TERRAS
6.SOLARKIS
7.OOZELITHS
8.SERAPHIM
9. SKILLARK
each race wielded its strength and knowledge like a weapon, fiercely guarding their knowledge. Regillia knew that to truly dominate, she would need to learn everything she could about these races, their methods, their weaknesses.
But that would come later.
She leaned back again, a small, almost imperceptible smile curling on her lips. "The council is nothing more than a delicate dance," she said softly, to no one in particular.