The air in the Grand Conclave dome seemed to shimmer, laced with an unsettling stillness. The next delegation, from the **Ebon Veil Sect**, moved with a fluid, almost ethereal grace. They were cloaked in robes of shifting shadow, their faces veiled, their very presence an enigma. Leading them was **Grand Elder Morwen**, a figure of serene composure, her eyes—the only visible feature—holding the unsettling depth of an ancient, unplumbed well. Her reputation as a master of illusions preceded her, and Long Hu felt a prickle of unease.
Their tribute was presented: a single, black **Shadow Lotus**, its petals absorbing all ambient light, radiating a paradoxical sense of deep spiritual peace. It was a masterpiece of illusion, designed to hide its true nature beneath layers of deceptive spiritual energy. Long Hu's unique intuition, usually so clear, felt muffled, struggling to pierce the intricate veil woven around the flower.
He stepped forward, his hands hovering over the Shadow Lotus. Closing his eyes, he delved into its essence. The immediate sensation was one of profound calm, a soothing void that promised tranquility. But beneath it, he sensed another layer—a cold, calculated emptiness that felt familiar, yet far more subtle than anything he had encountered. It was the whisper of the cosmic shadow, masked by Morwen's artistry.
He pushed his awareness deeper, his mind a silver beacon in a labyrinth of illusion. He felt the illusion fighting him, not with brute force, but with seductive visions of peace, of forgotten memories of serenity. This wasn't pain; it was a subtle mental siege, trying to trick his perception. He gritted his teeth, forcing his mind to focus on the 'discord,' the barely perceptible off-key note in the perfect illusion.
A faint tremor ran through him. He saw it: not a 'seed,' nor a 'frost,' but a **'web of forgotten truths'** woven into the lotus's very spiritual structure. This web was absorbing the energy of its own deception, feeding the shadow on the unacknowledged fears and suppressed realities of the Ebon Veil's people. Their plague hadn't been defeated; it had been *integrated*, its suffering quietly siphoned away, transformed into spiritual power and then passed on through this lotus.
Empress Xianxia, watching intently from her throne, noticed the minute tremble in Long Hu's frame, the slight clenching of his jaw. She recognized the signs of mental strain, the struggle against a formidable spiritual illusion. Her aura subtly flared, a silent anchor, a beacon of clarity in the Conclave hall, allowing him to push through the last layer.
With a final, desperate surge of mental clarity, Long Hu broke through. The illusory peace shattered. The Shadow Lotus, still outwardly black, now radiated an underlying current of profound, soul-wrenching sorrow and suppressed terror. The energy that now flowed from it, though pure, felt *heavy* with the weight of unseen despair. He had not merely purified; he had unveiled a hidden reality.
Grand Elder Morwen, her veiled face utterly still, betrayed nothing. But her eyes, fixed on the now 'purified' lotus, held a flicker of something akin to cold fury. She had gambled on her illusions, and the Empress's apprentice had seen through them all.
"A truly... unique discernment," Morwen's voice was smooth, betraying nothing, yet a subtle pressure radiated from her, a silent warning aimed at Long Hu. "The Empress's realm is indeed vigilant."
Empress Xianxia, a triumphant glint in her eyes, met Morwen's veiled gaze. "The Azure Heaven Realm leaves no truth undiscovered, Grand Elder. Your tribute now radiates with... profound clarity. It will be a welcome addition." Her words were a veiled taunt, acknowledging the immense despair Long Hu had just uncovered.
Long Hu, physically and mentally drained, stepped back, his eyes still wide from the horrifying clarity of his vision. The Void Devourers didn't just consume suffering; they manipulated, using illusions and deception to *trap* despair, turning suppressed truth into sustenance. They preyed on the unsaid, the hidden. This explained the Ebon Veil's sudden 'strength' after their plague. They had traded their hidden suffering for power.
Xianxia approached him, her presence a powerful balm against the lingering mental assault. "You performed admirably, Apprentice," she murmured, her voice holding a rare note of pride. She did not touch him, but her gaze lingered on his exhausted face. "The Shadow of the Void is more cunning than we imagined. It hides not just in power, but in silence, in unacknowledged grief."
He met her eyes, a shared burden passing between them. The Conclave was just a stage. The true enemy was everywhere, adapting, evolving. Long Hu had peeled back another layer of the cosmic horror, revealing its subtle, intellectual malice. He was not just a detector; he was becoming a reader of suppressed universal truths. And the game, now, was not just about physical confrontation, but about unraveling a tapestry of cosmic lies.