The weight of Empress Xianxia's hand on his shoulder lingered, a tangible reminder of their terrifying new alliance. Long Hu stood in the privacy of her antechamber, the terror of the Void Devourers vying with the dizzying realization that he, a nameless, cultivation-less wretch, was now her indispensable partner in a cosmic war. The Grand Conclave, once a symbol of his humiliation, had become their crucible.
Xianxia's voice, devoid of its usual imperial flourish, resonated with grim determination. "The Devourers thrive on despair. They make pacts, promising power for suffering. We must identify their willing conduits, their infected hosts. Every delegation here is a potential link." Her eyes, sharp as polished jade, met his. "Your senses are our only true weapon in this den of hidden vipers."
The Conclave resumed, the air heavy with unspoken tensions. Empress Xianxia, usually seated on her throne during screenings, now stood closer to the central dais, her regal presence a silent challenge to any who dared to deceive. Her proximity sent a nervous flutter through Long Hu, a confusing mix of apprehension and a strange, almost comforting familiarity. He was acutely aware of her every breath, her every subtle shift in posture.
The next delegation hailed from the **Scorched Earth Mountains**, their Lord, a burly, scarred cultivator named **Lord Kaelen**, presented a single, ancient **Fiery Serpent Scale**. It pulsed with a fearsome, untamed spiritual energy, radiating immense heat.
Long Hu stepped forward, his heart pounding. He placed his hands above the scale, delving into its potent aura. Immediately, he sensed it—not the outright corruption of the Bloodstone, nor the insidious chill of the Orchid, but a deeper, more profound sense of **spiritual exhaustion**, like a parched well. The scale was powerful, but it was being fueled by a continuous, draining despair, a silent siphon.
He began his unique purification. This time, he didn't just absorb; he focused on *re-energizing* the exhausted spiritual essence, gently persuading it to shed its parasitic drain. The effort was immense, causing beads of sweat to trickle down his temples. He felt the 'thrum' of the Void Devourer's influence, but this time, it was like a desperate, continuous whisper, a constant demand for more.
Within his mind, a new vision exploded: *He saw Lord Kaelen, younger, standing amidst the ruins of his realm, devastated by a terrible plague or cataclysm. His people were dying, their despair a tangible shroud. The shadowy entity appeared, not offering power directly, but a 'solution' – a way to save his realm, but at the cost of a slow, continuous siphoning of his people's collective grief and desperation. The Fiery Serpent Scale was a conduit, channeling that despair to the Void Devourer, feeding its hunger even as it allowed Kaelen to rebuild his domain.*
He gasped, staggering back from the scale, the horrific truth of the pact burning in his mind. This wasn't just a physical bargain; it was a soul-wrenching, continuous sacrifice of an entire people's suffering.
Lord Kaelen, seeing the powerful Fiery Serpent Scale subtly brighten, then pulse with a newfound, vibrant energy, looked utterly flabbergasted. His initial arrogant smirk vanished, replaced by a raw, naked horror as he stared at Long Hu. He recognized that look. He had seen it in the eyes of his own seers who delved too deep.
Empress Xianxia, watching Long Hu's sudden stagger and the raw terror in his eyes, felt a sharp pang in her chest – a visceral reaction to his visible pain. Her own eyes narrowed, assessing Kaelen's horrified reaction. He had seen something far more profound than mere impurity. This new memory was critical.
"Apprentice," Xianxia's voice cut through the tense silence, "you seem... affected. Master Tian, ensure he receives a calming spiritual draught immediately." Her command was public, appearing solicitous, but her eyes locked with Kaelen's, a cold challenge in their depths. "Lord Kaelen, your tribute is now purified to the highest standard. Its full potential, now unleashed, speaks volumes of your realm's power." Her words were a subtle taunt, reminding him of the 'cost' of his power.
Kaelen, his face ashen, bowed deeply, unable to meet her gaze. He retreated with his delegation, his hurried movements betraying a deep, unsettling fear.
Long Hu, now outwardly composed by Master Tian's swift, calming spiritual draught, was still reeling internally. The Void Devourer didn't just make pacts; it engineered entire systems of suffering, creating self-sustaining sources of despair. This was true evil.
As the Conclave proceeded, Xianxia leaned subtly closer to Long Hu, her voice a low murmur only he could hear. "What did you see?" Her words were firm, but the slight tension in her voice, the almost imperceptible tremor in her hand as it brushed his arm, spoke of a growing, shared burden.
He met her gaze, his own eyes reflecting the profound horror of his latest vision. The Conclave was no longer just a diplomatic event; it was a hunting ground, and they, the Empress and her unwilling apprentice, were becoming the universe's only true purifiers of cosmic despair. His purpose, horrifying as it was, became frighteningly clear: to expose every insidious whisper, every pact, until the Devourers had nowhere left to feed.