Emperor of the Source

Two days of external time passed, and within the bustling expanse of UNI-Hub, the UNI-Embassy District stood as the focal point of attention for the entire Andromeda Galaxy.

Within the UNI-Embassy District, outside a massive, imposing structure designed for high-level diplomatic exchanges, a vast gathering of cultivators had already formed. These were not ordinary onlookers drawn by curiosity, but professionals of the information field: reporters, analysts, and intelligence operatives whose influence often rivaled that of entire sects. In the universe, knowledge itself was a currency, and news, when properly wielded, could shape perception, shift alliances, and determine the fate of entire powers.

Representatives from both local networks and premium intergalactic information networks were present, their attire marking their affiliations. Some bore the golden insignias of the Astral Archive Pavilion Network, while others, more reserved and enigmatic, stood quietly as observers on behalf of the Heaven-Weaving Pavilion Network, a Great Sect renowned for its dominance in the information domain. Many among these were not direct disciples of those powerful sects, but rather members of subsidiary sects, trained specifically to act as intermediaries and field operatives in lesser galaxies.

The scale of this gathering alone spoke volumes about the significance of the event. The Ashen Vortex Sect, despite its recent humiliation, remained one of the strongest forces in the Andromeda Galaxy, and its public move into diplomacy marked a rare and highly consequential development. It had been nearly a million years since such a dominant sect made an open move that affected the broader political structure of the galaxy, and no one was willing to miss the unfolding moment.

Recording artifacts hovered in the air like mechanical birds, their lenses capturing every angle of the building's entrance. Holographic displays flickered across the plaza, broadcasting live feeds to millions across the universe who watched from their respective worlds and stations.

Amid the crowd, many whispered among themselves, analyzing the unfolding political landscape like seasoned players studying a complex game of chess. One voice murmured, "Is this peace summit nothing more than a staged performance for the Ashen Vortex Sect to repair its damaged reputation?"

Another responded, "Or will the Crimson Vital Sect be forced to submit and become a subsidiary to avoid destruction?"

A third voice, sharper and more cynical, added, "Perhaps we'll witness the formal annexation of both alchemy sects under Ashen Vortex control. Two birds, one contract."

Nervous laughter rippled through a cluster of observers.

As speculation spread, the tension heightened further when the first faction arrived.

The Ashen Vortex Sect made its entrance with unmistakable presence. Ignis walked forward at the front, his aura radiating oppressive heat, projecting the image of a regal savior stepping into a crisis. His robes, deep red edged with black, flowed behind him like molten fire given form.

Flanking him were Pyros and Asteria, their composure reinforcing the authority he sought to display. Pyros moved with quiet efficiency, his gaze scanning the crowd without acknowledgment, whilst Asteria's expression remained cold and unreadable, her hands clasped behind her back. Without acknowledging the crowd, they proceeded directly into the massive building, a structure equipped with highly secured UNI-Embassy Chambers designed to host foreign sect leaders, diplomatic envoys, and high-stakes political summits. This location, being neutral and publicly recognized, served as the perfect stage for their calculated performance.

The crowd erupted into murmurs the moment they disappeared inside.

"Ignis looks confident."

"Of course he does. He holds all the leverage."

Shortly after, the Everlasting Pill Sect arrived. Yselia walked forward with controlled elegance, her expression calm and unreadable, while Elder Casmir followed closely behind her in a silent, vigilant stance.

Her eyes swept briefly across the gathered reporters, but she offered no reaction, no acknowledgment. Without pause, they entered the building as well, disappearing beyond the sealed doors.

"She's recovered fully," someone noted.

Finally, the Crimson Vital Sect appeared. Hestia and Adrian walked side by side, their pace steady and unhurried, completely ignoring the surrounding reporters and their barrage of recording artifacts.

Without offering a single glance toward the crowd, they entered the building, their presence leaving a subtle but undeniable impression.

"Did you see that? Two Peak Rule Stage cultivators walking together."

"The Crimson Vital Sect has risen faster than anyone anticipated."

"Risen? They're about to be crushed."

As all three factions stepped into the UNI-Embassy Chamber, the massive doors closed behind them with a heavy thud. Complex privacy formations activated instantly, sealing the space from all external observation. Whatever transpired within would remain hidden, and the galaxy would only receive the final outcome.

Inside, Adrian's gaze moved across the chamber, taking in the arrangement immediately. A massive, ornate conference table dominated the room, its design emphasizing authority and hierarchy. At its head sat Ignis, already positioned as though he were the presiding judge of the summit. Behind him stood Pyros and Asteria, not seated, but deliberately placed as silent pillars of power, reinforcing the illusion that Ignis alone controlled the proceedings.

To the left side of the table, Yselia had already taken her seat. Her posture was composed, one leg crossed over the other, her expression calm yet observant. Elder Casmir stood just behind her, mirroring the same silent vigilance displayed by Pyros and Asteria. On the opposite side, a single seat had been placed, clearly intended for Hestia. No additional chairs were present.

The arrangement itself spoke louder than any words. The Ashen Vortex Sect had already decided who held authority in this room, who was allowed to sit, and where they belonged within this so-called negotiation.

Adrian and Hestia walked forward, but they did not move toward the designated seat.

Instead, Adrian stopped at the opposite end of the table, directly facing Ignis. With a subtle motion, he summoned two seats of his own, placing them firmly at the head position opposite Ignis. The chairs materialized from his spatial ring, simple yet solid, their presence a direct challenge to the established hierarchy. Without hesitation, he took one seat, while Hestia sat beside him, her posture calm and her gaze steady as she looked directly across at Ignis.

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This action fractured the carefully constructed narrative of authority.

Ignis's expression remained neutral, but his fingers tightened slightly against the armrest of his chair.

"Bold," Ignis said finally, his voice carrying the controlled heat of banked flames. "But unnecessary. This is a mediation, not a confrontation."

"Then there should be no issue with where we sit," Adrian replied, his tone even.

Ignis studied him for a long moment, then gestured dismissively. "As you wish."

The chamber settled into silence, the tension palpable.

Pyros stepped forward first and began speaking, smoothly executing the plan they had prepared.

"Since all parties have arrived, let us not waste time with unnecessary formalities." His gaze swept across Adrian, Hestia, and Yselia before settling into an expression of detached concern. "The situation before us is simple. A war between two prominent alchemical powers will not remain contained. It will spread, disrupting supply chains, destabilizing cultivation progress across multiple systems, and creating a ripple effect that will impact countless sects and civilizations."

"The Ashen Vortex Sect has no interest in allowing such chaos to unfold. As one of the strongest forces within the Andromeda Galaxy, we have taken it upon ourselves to ensure that balance is maintained."

As he spoke, a projection appeared above the table, displaying carefully structured clauses and terms.

"We present the Mandate of Equilibrium."

"Under this mandate," Pyros continued, "our elite forces will be deployed to the Crimson Vital Sect as peacekeeping units. Their presence will prevent escalation and ensure stability. In return, to facilitate coordination and protection, the Crimson Vital Sect's trade routes, resource channels, and logistical systems will be integrated under our oversight."

The projection expanded, displaying detailed breakdowns of proposed military deployments, resource allocation schedules, and administrative restructuring.

Hestia studied the projection for a brief moment before exhaling softly, a faint hint of amusement appearing in her expression.

"Peacekeepers?" She tilted her head slightly, pale golden eyes narrowing. "Aren't these just wardens?" Her gaze lifted, locking onto Pyros with unwavering directness. "And this 'logistical integration'… isn't this simply you asking us to hand over our treasury and borders without a fight?"

To the side, Yselia's lips curved into a faint smirk. Her fingers drummed once against the armrest of her chair, a gesture of satisfaction. This was exactly why she had agreed to this summit. The illusion of neutrality, the facade of balance, it was all meaningless beneath the surface. She understood the true intent behind it, just as Hestia clearly did now.

But understanding did not equate to power.

The Everlasting Pill Sect itself had no option but to accept this arrangement. Yselia had already calculated her own position within this web of control, recognizing that submission now would allow her to rebuild strength later, whilst the Crimson Vital Sect bore the brunt of the Ashen Vortex Sect's attention.

So what could the Crimson Vital Sect possibly do?

Pyros opened his mouth to respond, his hand rising in a placating gesture, ready to reframe the narrative with carefully chosen words, but Ignis interrupted him.

"Enough."

The single word cut through the chamber. Ignis's fingers tightened against the armrest of his chair, the metal groaning faintly under the pressure. His patience had already worn thin. The careful political construct they had built was being dismantled far too easily, and his pride, still wounded from the UNI-Auction, could not tolerate it.

"If you refuse our protection, Hestia," Ignis said coldly, "the galaxy will label you as a warmonger and a threat to stability." Heat rippled faintly around him, distorting the air. "We will align our entire military with Yselia to destroy a warmonger. Do you truly believe that having two Peak Rule Stage cultivators will save you? If you harbor such illusions, it would be wise to abandon them now and face reality."

His gaze shifted toward Adrian, his expression filled with disdain. "I heard you are a discarded disciple from a Major Sect. A discarded piece like you should learn your place. Do not mistake yourself for something greater simply because you are in a lesser galaxy."

Adrian's expression remained unchanged. He met Ignis's stare without flinching.

Ignis's eyes returned to Hestia, narrowing. "Think carefully. The moment you decline my protection, your sect will be reduced to ash, and it will be by your own choice."

The atmosphere within the chamber grew suffocating as Ignis's aura expanded, pressing down heavily upon Adrian and Hestia. The illusion of diplomacy was shattered completely. The contract had been nothing more than a façade, and with Hestia's refusal to submit, war had become inevitable.

Hestia's pale golden eyes narrowed as her crimson aura surged in response, genuine anger rising within her. Her aura threatened to erupt, rule fragments beginning to manifest around her form.

Just as she was about to push back, Adrian reached out and placed a firm hand on her arm.

The simple gesture grounded her instantly.

She looked at him, taking in his calm expression, the steady confidence in his eyes. Hestia took a slow breath, withdrew her aura, and settled back into her seat, trusting him to handle the situation.

Adrian stood.

The room fell into absolute silence.

Even Yselia's smirk faded, replaced by careful observation. Casmir's hand shifted subtly toward his spatial ring, instinct preparing for potential violence. Pyros and Asteria both tensed, their attention snapping fully toward Adrian.

Without raising his voice, Adrian extended a single finger and tapped the center of the massive conference table.

In that instant, a razor-thin line of spatial essence shot forward, slicing through the reinforced structure. The table had been constructed from Graviton-reinforced composite, parted like paper.

It split cleanly down the middle, its halves grinding apart with a deep, resonant scrape as they were pushed aside by invisible force, creating a direct, unobstructed path between Adrian and Ignis.

Adrian stepped forward, his pace unhurried. His gaze locked onto Ignis.

Ignis did not rise from his seat. Instead, his aura intensified, pressing down harder, attempting to crush Adrian under its power. The floor beneath Adrian's feet cracked slightly from the sheer force being directed at him.

Yet something unnatural occurred. No matter how overwhelming the pressure became, it bent around Adrian, curving away as though unwilling to touch him.

Adrian stopped directly before him, close enough that Ignis had to tilt his head slightly upward to maintain eye contact.

"Tell me something." Adrian's voice emerged calm, quiet, yet it filled the chamber completely. "Who exactly are you? What gives you the right to act as a mediator?"

Adrian's voice remained steady as he continued, "Aren't you just a mercenary? As a mercenary, you should learn your place and act like a fucking mercenary. Don't overstep your boundaries and pretend to be something you're not."

Ignis's expression twisted with rage. His divine domain threatened to erupt, divine essence gathering around him in waves of searing heat. The air shimmered violently. Yet he remained frozen, unable to act.

He cannot attack inside the UNI-Hub without bringing the wrath of the UNI-Sect down upon his head.

Adrian's words had stripped away his carefully constructed "savior" disguise, reducing him back to exactly what he was: a hired thug playing at nobility.

The silence stretched, suffocating in its intensity.

Adrian did not wait for a response. He turned his back on Ignis, a gesture of utter dismissal, and walked away. Hestia rose gracefully from her seat and followed beside him, her posture calm, her expression serene.

Together they left the chamber, passing between the split halves of the ruined table, leaving the seething leaders of the Ashen Vortex Sect behind them.

As the heavy doors opened, a storm of flashing recording artifacts greeted them. The gathered reporters surged forward like a living tide, voices overlapping as questions were shouted from every direction.

"Sect Leader Hestia! Is the Crimson Vital Sect agreeing to this summit?"

"Elder Adrian! What was discussed inside?"

"Is the Crimson Vital Sect going against the Ashen Vortex sect?"

Adrian ignored them entirely, walking forward without pause. Hestia matched his pace.

Yet the reporters' attention shifted past them, catching sight of the scene within the chamber through the briefly opened doors: the bisected table, the tension radiating from Ignis's frozen form, Pyros and Asteria's angered expressions.

Recording artifacts zoomed in, capturing every detail.

In that moment, the narrative spread instantly across the networks.

Holographic displays throughout UNI-Hub flickered, updating in real-time. Premium networks pushed notifications to their subscribers. Local forums exploded with speculation and analysis.

The Peace Summit had failed.

And with that failure, a new chapter in the Andromeda Galaxy had begun.

A major war, the first of its scale in millions of years, had officially been set into motion.