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Chapter 20 - The Unspoken Pact

Empress Xianxia's whispered question, "What did you see?", hung in the air, thick with the scent of ozone and the distant hum of the Conclave. Long Hu, still reeling from the vision, met her gaze. He saw the demand for truth, yes, but also a deep, terrifying apprehension that mirrored his own.

He spoke, his voice hoarse, relaying the full horror of Lord Kaelen's pact: the ravaged land, the dying people, the insidious bargain. "It wasn't just power," he recounted, the images searing behind his eyes. "It was a promise to save his realm, in exchange for... their despair. A constant, unending siphon. The Shadow feeds on suffering, Your Majesty. It cultivates misery." He shuddered, the memory of that feeding frenzy a raw wound in his soul. "The Fiery Serpent Scale was a conduit for that despair. It wasn't just given; it was *earned* through the suffering of his people."

Empress Xianxia listened, her face unreadable. But as Long Hu described the active cultivation of misery, the 'siphon' of despair, the very air around her seemed to chill. Her eyes, usually so serene, blazed with a cold, terrifying fury. This wasn't merely a threat to her dominion; it was an affront to the very essence of existence, a monstrous perversion of spiritual cultivation. The ancient legends of Void Devourers, once dismissed as hyperbole, now pulsed with chilling reality.

She paced, a solitary figure in her vast antechamber, her every movement radiating a fierce, protective power. Her cold exterior, usually impenetrable, cracked just enough for Long Hu to sense the profound dread that briefly touched her, a raw fear for her realm, for her people. It was a flicker of vulnerability, quickly suppressed, but powerful in its fleeting appearance.

"A hunger for despair," she murmured, her voice tight with uncharacteristic emotion. "They sow suffering to reap power. This is a blight that must be excised, root and branch, from the cosmos." Her gaze snapped to Master Tian, who stood silently, observing the intense exchange. "Master Tian, double the security around the Conclave. Send discreet patrols into the outer districts of the Imperial City. Any unusual outbreaks of despair, any unexplained suffering, must be reported directly to me."

Master Tian bowed, his voice low with concern. "Your Majesty, Apprentice Long Hu has exerted himself greatly. Such visions take a severe toll. He requires immediate spiritual recuperation." His eyes held a silent plea, observing Long Hu's pallor.

Xianxia's gaze returned to Long Hu, and for a moment, the Imperial Empress softened into something more akin to a worried guardian. She stepped closer, her hand reaching out, not for a probe, but to cup his cheek, her touch surprisingly gentle, cool against his feverish skin. "You are our eyes, Apprentice," she whispered, her voice rough with genuine concern. "You must endure. For the sake of realms."

He leaned into her touch, a desperate, animalistic need for comfort overriding his fear. In her eyes, he saw not just strategic brilliance, but a fierce, terrifying determination that matched his own rising defiance. They were two broken beings, one by choice and one by fate, now bound by the weight of a consuming darkness. The air between them hummed with a dangerous, unspoken intimacy, a fragile bond forged in shared horror.

She slowly withdrew her hand, her resolve hardening once more, but her eyes held a new, deeper intensity when she looked at him. "The Conclave continues," she stated, her voice regaining its imperial resonance, but her words were for him alone. "The next delegation is from the **Ebon Veil Sect**. Their leader, **Grand Elder Morwen,** is a master of illusions, known for her impenetrable spiritual screens. Her realm recently suffered a devastating celestial plague, yet emerged inexplicably stronger than before."

Long Hu's blood ran cold. A devastating plague. Unexplained strength. It reeked of a pact, a desperate exchange of suffering for power. Grand Elder Morwen, a master of illusions, would be adept at concealing such a dark bargain. This was not just another screening; it was a direct confrontation with the Shadow's deceptive influence.

Xianxia's gaze pierced his, a silent command. "If the Devourers truly feed on despair, then those who have survived great suffering and gained strength are their most likely prey. Grand Elder Morwen and her Ebon Veil Sect will be our next target, Long Hu." Her voice was a solemn vow. "We will find its mark. We will expose its hunger. And together, we will make it starve."

The weight of the impending confrontation settled on Long Hu's shoulders, heavier than any physical burden. The Conclave was now a stage for a secret war. He was the Empress's blade, honed by his own misery, aimed at the heart of a cosmic enemy. And with each horrifying revelation, their shared purpose tightened the invisible bonds that irrevocably tied his fate to hers.

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