Inner disciple Luna was grumbling under her breath, her footsteps echoing faintly in the stillness of the night. She stepped off her flying sword with a huff, her face set in a scowl that matched her sour mood.
She couldn't fathom how her day, which had begun with such promise, had spiraled into this maddening ordeal.
Earlier that morning, she had been diligently cultivating in her secluded courtyard, the crisp mountain air filling her lungs with renewed energy. She was so close—so tantalizingly close—to a breakthrough.
For months, she had dedicated herself to reaching the 6th stage of the Foundation Establishment Realm, her mind filled with dreams of ascending to the rank of a core disciple.
The honor, the prestige, and the resources that came with it were within her grasp.
But instead of continuing her cultivation, her plans had been abruptly derailed by a summons from Elder Michael.
The elder had handed her what could only be described as an insult disguised as a task: serving as an attendant.
A nanny!
Her charge? None other than Riley Mason, the infamous disgrace of the sect. Riley had been a fixture in the outer court for ten agonizing years without making a single advancement.
While his peers had risen through the ranks and left him far behind, he had remained stagnant, earning himself the dubious distinction of being the sect's most mocked disciple.
"Why me? Of all the disciples in the inner court, why did they choose me?" Luna muttered for what felt like the hundredth time.
Her fists clenched at her sides, but there was no one to take out her frustration on. The elder's decision was final, and any resistance would be tantamount to rebellion.
She shuddered at the thought of the consequences.
Defying an elder's orders wasn't just a matter of insubordination; it was a crime punishable by the most severe of penalties. She could lose everything—her cultivation, her status, even her life.
The Stone Mountain Sect was strict, but it prided itself on fairness. No scandals or abuses of power had ever tarnished the reputations of its ten elders, thanks to the sect master's careful oversight.
Yet, that knowledge did little to soothe her current predicament.
Letting out a long, weary sigh, Luna paused at the base of the Thousand Stars Summit. The summit's beauty was undeniable, even to someone in her foul mood.
The sky above was a canvas of glittering stars, their light spilling across the jagged peaks and casting the mountain in an ethereal glow. Luna had always loved this view.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice softening as her gaze wandered across the serene landscape.
She remembered the first time she had come here, years ago, when she and her friends had just mastered the art of sword flight.
The summit had seemed impossibly vast back then, a symbol of the endless potential they all sought to harness.
For a moment, she let herself be lost in the nostalgia. But the pressing weight of her mission soon dragged her back to the present.
She tore her eyes away from the starry expanse and continued up the mountain path, her steps cautious yet deliberate.
The air grew heavier as she ascended, the latent power of the mountain's defensive formation brushing against her senses.
It was a formidable barrier, capable of detecting and eradicating any intruder who dared approach without permission. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she stopped just short of its edge.
Gathering her composure, Luna took a deep breath and called out softly, her voice tinged with reluctant respect. "Young Master Riley?"
The words felt strange on her tongue, like addressing a phantom of misfortune. The night stretched on in silence, and Luna stood there, waiting.
The faint hum of the mountain's formation filled the air, amplifying her growing unease.
"…"
Luna waited a few breaths, craning her delicate neck forward as if straining to catch the faintest sound of a response.
The seconds dragged on, and just as she was about to call out again, a voice finally broke the stillness.
"Come in."
The voice was deep, calm, and carried a hint of authority that startled her. Before she could dwell on it, the hum of power surrounding the mountain diminished, signaling the barrier's deactivation.
This was her cue. Steeling herself, Luna stepped forward, passing through the invisible threshold.
Large lanterns lit her path, their soft golden glow illuminating the intricately designed stone corridors.
Her boots sank slightly into the plush carpet that lined the floors, the luxurious texture a stark contrast to the cold austerity of the mountain's exterior.
The air here felt different—denser, richer, and charged with spiritual energy.
As she continued, the hallway opened into a spacious living area. Luna stopped short, her breath catching in her throat. The room was grandiose, to say the least.
Ornate furnishings filled the space, including a polished chessboard, a lacquered ball for spiritual exercises, and an array of musical instruments like a guqin, their craftsmanship exquisite.
Everything about the room spoke of wealth and status, a stark reminder that she was now in a world far removed from her own humble room.
"This is…" Luna murmured, her wide eyes drinking in the scene. It was her first time entering this sacred place, and it exceeded all her expectations.
She didn't have long to admire the surroundings. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed from an adjoining corridor, each step growing louder as someone approached.
When the figure finally emerged, Luna's heart skipped a beat.
"Young Master Riley!" she gasped, her voice betraying her surprise.
It wasn't his face that stunned her, although it was undeniably handsome. Her gaze was riveted on his attire—a set of golden robes that shimmered faintly under the lantern light.
Recognition struck her like a bolt of lightning.
"That's the Golden Phoenix Mantle!" she exclaimed, unable to keep the shock from her voice.
Her mind raced. As an inner disciple, she was well-versed in the sect's traditions. The Golden Phoenix Mantle was no ordinary garment.
It was the ceremonial robe reserved for the sect's legacy disciple—the one chosen to ascend as the next sect master.
"Oh?" Riley's lips curled into a faint, amused smile.
"That's its name? I thought it was just some forgotten old robe hanging in a cabinet. I needed a change, and it was the only thing I could find."
He chuckled softly, as if oblivious to the gravity of her reaction. His nonchalance only deepened Luna's bewilderment. For her, the mantle was a symbol of unimaginable power and responsibility.
For him, it was little more than a convenient outfit.
Yet, there was something about the way he carried himself—a quiet confidence that suggested he was more than the laughingstock she had expected.
His presence was commanding, almost magnetic, and Luna couldn't help but feel a sliver of unease.
As Riley stepped closer, his sharp blue eyes flicked over her, assessing her with an air of detachment. His gaze lingered just long enough to unsettle her before he spoke.
"What's your name, girl?" he asked bluntly, his tone both curious and dismissive.