The sound of their footsteps echoed faintly through the labyrinth, a steady tap-tap-tap reverberating off ancient stone. Even with seven of them moving together, the passage still felt vast. Too quiet. Too hollow. The towering walls loomed on either side, more than thirty meters high, casting long shadows that made the space feel even deeper.
Ryu walked near the rear of the group, hands tucked into the loose sleeves of his layered robe, its black and silver trim marking the inheritance of a power few could name. Beneath it, he wore a simple black T-shirt and loose, breathable pants suited for movement. Still, his thoughts wandered.
He glanced up at the wall, watching the faint glyphs flicker. Qi-reinforced stones, fitted without gap, humming with residual power. So much walking...
"I've been thinking," he said aloud, breaking the silence. "Why don't I move us up there?" He gestured to the top of the wall. "It's over thirty meters up, but the walkway is wide, two meters across at least."
The others slowed.
Ronan looked up. He was in his late twenties, tall but lean, with sharp features and short black hair swept back behind his ears. A pale scar traced the left side of his jaw. His long, ice-blue robes bore the crest of the Ice-Lily Sect, the fabric dusty but still regal.
"You can do that?" he asked, brushing grit from his sleeve. "Without burning too much Qi?"
Ryu gave a soft chuckle. "It's manageable. As long as Yan or I stay close, no one's falling."
Veris, his junior, looked visibly relieved, his younger face tense, brown hair damp with sweat. He adjusted the nearly empty water flask strapped across his chest.
"I'll take Ronan and Veris first," Ryu offered. "Yan, can you handle the Fire-Cloud girls?"
"Sure," Yan said with a small smirk. She stepped toward Himari, who blinked in surprise but nodded quickly.
Yan's red and white robe shimmered as phoenix Qi surged beneath it, woven phoenix feathers catching the air. Her top stretched across her arms and chest, sleek and battle-hardened. She placed a hand on Himari's shoulder.
"This might get hot."
"I, uh, okay," Himari managed, cheeks brightening.
With a burst of flame from her feet, they soared upward, Yan's flight clean and effortless. They landed atop the wall, a spiral of heat dissipating in the air.
Meanwhile, Ryu summoned the spatial Dao, stepping into his power. He extended a hand toward Ronan and Veris.
Ronan gave a respectful nod. "Let's go."
Space rippled beneath them. Step by invisible step, they ascended in silence, the world beneath slipping away like a dream. Ryu walked with practiced calm, the weight of his robe trailing behind him like shadow.
Next came Lira.
Her light-blue dress fluttered in the rising wind, trimmed with pale silver threads. Her Qi-imbued brooch, a diamond set in a silver lotus, pulsed faintly with cold light, attuned to the Dao of Ice. She stepped forward.
"You sure?" Ryu asked.
"I'll manage," she said softly.
They ascended smoothly. The air cooled slightly around her as she moved, sleeves flowing like water, the climb as graceful as snowfall.
Last was Akari.
She approached in calm silence, robes of cream and soft orange shifting like silk against her tall boots. Her blonde hair glinted under the light, skin unblemished and flawless. She stopped just short of Ryu.
"I don't like heights," she admitted. "But I trust you."
He offered his arm.
She stepped in without hesitation, wrapping her arms around his neck, her body pressed close. Her scent was faint, roses and alchemy smoke.
"Comfortable?" Ryu muttered.
She didn't reply, but the smirk she gave spoke volumes.
They ascended like a breeze riding a silent current. When they reached the top, she stepped back with elegance, offering a formal bow.
"Thank you."
Ryu returned it with a nod, blinking away the tension.
From the top of the wall, the view shifted completely.
The palace loomed now in full clarity. Its golden-yellow exterior, once vibrant, had faded with age. Spires climbed skyward from layered terraces. The architecture was curved, domed, yet weathered, built partially into the cliff behind it. Symbols, etched into stone and metal, glowed faintly beneath layers of moss and dust.
"It's beautiful," Lira whispered.
"Looks ancient," Ronan murmured beside her. "But still breathing."
They walked in a loose formation, wind curling around them as shadows stretched over the maze. The walls below twisted in complex patterns, now clear from above, like the pathways of a living map.
After several minutes, Ryu spoke again.
"So… Ice-Lily and Fire-Cloud," he said, glancing at Ronan. "Where are your sects located? I don't recognize the names."
Ronan hesitated, then answered. "We're based in the continent of Ires, under the Kingdom of Zerus. It governs about half of the land."
Yan and Ryu slowed.
"Ires?" Yan echoed. "We've… never heard of it."
Akari frowned. "It's one of four major landmasses, east of the Jade Crescent Sea. Don't tell me..."
Himari blinked. "You're not from Ires?"
Ryu and Lira exchanged glances.
"No," Lira said softly. "We're not even from the same realm, are we?"
Veris stepped forward. "Wait. You're from another realm?"
"Looks that way," Ryu said, careful. "We came through the rift. But it didn't take us across the world. It took us between them."
Akari looked stunned. "You're realm walkers?"
"Is that… normal here?" Lira asked.
Ronan shook his head. "Not at all. It's rare. Dangerous. But not unheard of."
They walked in silence a moment longer.
"Our realm," Ronan continued, "has cultivated Qi for sixty-five thousand years. Over five hundred sects. Dozens of clans. Our realm is efficient, dense with Qi. But many get stuck on the Elemental Stage."
Yan gave a low whistle. "No wonder the air feels heavier."
"Especially near the Source Vein," Akari added.
Veris nodded. "Our sovereign, Lord Zeraius, has reached Transcendence Stage Five. He's ruled for thirty thousand years. The sect masters are all his disciples, most in high Ascension. Some… might've broken into Transcendence."
Lira blinked. "That's… a lot."
"We've lasted because we're unified," Ronan said. "Zerus closes rifts. He keeps us safe."
Ryu kept his expression neutral, but his thoughts were anything but.
Yan crossed her arms. "Sounds like a dream. Ours is more… fractured."
Ronan raised a brow. "Then who rules your realm?"
"No one," Ryu said with a faint smile. "Factions. Scattered power."
Akari looked sceptical. "And you made it to Rank Two Ascension like that?"
Lira cut in smoothly. "You learn fast when it's just you and your team."
From what they'd learned during the walk, shared in quiet moments between turns and steps, the story of the Seventh Realm was beginning to take shape.
As it's told across the continent of Ires, the realm is ruled not by shifting alliances or fragmented clans, but by a single man, Sovereign Zeraius, a cultivator who long ago surpassed Ascension and now sits firmly within Transcendence Stage Five.
He has held that stage for over 45,000 years, and since his breakthrough, it's said he ages one year for every 3,000. Though by all appearances he looks like a man in his sixties, his presence radiates both prime vitality and unshakable authority. Combat readiness? Never in question. But the truth is, Zeraius rarely needs to raise a hand.
Feared, respected, and revered, he rules not through tyranny, but through unrivalled strength and clarity of purpose. Under his leadership, wars have ceased, sects have unified, and the realm has enjoyed a stability the others can only imagine.
Zeraius's power was not rooted in raw destruction, though few dared challenge him and survive. His primary Dao was that of Wind, a force of motion, pressure, and unseen precision. He was known across the realms as the Sovereign Gale, a cultivator whose strikes could split mountains and whose presence turned the battlefield into a storm of shifting currents.
With secondary mastery over Thunder and Lightning, Zeraius became a tempest incarnate, a force that could not be cornered. His movements blurred the lines between space and speed, his control over airflow so refined he could silence an entire battlefield with a single breath.
Though he could not bend space the way Ryu could, Zeraius manipulated terrain and perception through wind currents, often appearing where no one expected him to be. His lightning techniques, though less refined, made his strikes all the more devastating crackling with divine charge.
As Ronan explained in hushed tones, the realm was called the Seventh Realm not by geography or divine decree… but because Zeraius, during the teachings of his first disciples nearly 38,000 years ago, had once said:
"I am the seventh strongest to ever live.
I have not surpassed the others,
Whether this was humility or prophecy, none could say.
But in the Seventh Realm, his word was law.
They reached the base of the palace steps.
The stone beneath their boots pulsed softly with dormant Qi, warm from the sun.
The twin doors ahead loomed, engraved with curling script neither side could read. Moss laced the lower edges, but the threshold thrummed faintly.
Ronan stepped forward, exhaling. "This is it."
Ryu approached the gate.
"Let's see if it opens."