220. Gala

A/N: Chapter 221 will be uploaded in a few hours, don't worry.

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Alistair felt his heart flutter nervously as he sat in Fuhao’s dorm room.

Technically, you weren’t supposed to be in the dorms of the opposite sex. That was, unless you had a special dispensation akin to a marriage license for serious couples, though much less binding. 

However, this official rule was rarely enforced. Unlike Earth, there weren’t RAs, so unless an inner disciple reported you or you did something terrible, you were in the clear.

With Alistair’s new Skill, [Karmic Battery], he was even safer than the average individual, but he was still nervous. Sneaking around with girls was not his thing.

“What do you think?” 

Fuhao used her air affinity to create an invisible barrier where she changed into multiple dresses. Alistair had to go buy an appropriate hanfu from the Armory, after she told him his sect robes were completely inappropriate. 

She was stunning. Beyond stunning. There could be no doubt that her appearance touched the Dao. 

Alistair couldn’t help but stare. She stood before him in a pure white dress that seemed to capture the very essence of celestial beauty. The dress flowed around her like morning mist, with layers of finest silk featuring geometric embroidery that shimmered with an inner luminescence.

The wide sleeves draped elegantly from her slender arms, and a sash of pale gold cinched her small waist, matching her eyes. Her ebony hair was partially swept up with steel sticks, while the remainder flowed down her back. 

Her pale skin was even paler than usual, her cheeks rosy and delicately flushed. She was wearing some kind of cultivator makeup that made her feel like the epitome of aesthetics. 

“It’s wonderful.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she teased. With his species evolution at level 100, she wasn’t wrong. 

The subtle changes to his features that he initially found too alien—partially slitted pupils, raised cheekbones, and an increased canthal tilt of his eyes—had been synergized with the rest of his countenance to create a refined, noble appearance that hinted at draconic majesty.

His own hanfu was pure black to match her white, yang to her yin, the colors inverted. Instead of geometric patterning, his clothing swayed like the tides, presenting a vision of the Clear Water Sect’s adaptable attitude. 

Fuhao controlled the air in the room, blowing it over his hair and drawing him closer. Alistair didn’t resist, breathing in a sweet citrus fragrance as he towered over her.

“What is it you desire?” she asked, meeting his eyes. Those golden pools felt as deep as Selvtiari’s oceans.

Alistair’s heartbeat quickened. Two paths stretched out to the distance before him. He stared into her eyes, seeing his reflection fragmented against her auric irises.

“I can’t promise you forever,” he said simply.

Her fingers traced the embroidery on his sleeve, following the tide pattern. “Nothing in this world lasts forever. Immortals fall, and eternity is never eternal.”

“You don’t understand, my Fate—” he began.

“Is your own,” she finished. “When spring flowers bloom, do you turn away because winter will come?”

A single tear caught the light in her eye, yet she smiled. She stepped closer, the white of her hanfu brushing against the black of his.

Before he could respond, she rose to her toes and pressed her lips gently against his. 

“You always think too much,” she said.

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They walked side-by-side to Pristine’s dorm, where the couple of the hour were waiting for them.

Alistair face-palmed upon seeing his roommate. 

“Are you seriously going to wear that to this fancy event?” he asked.

Red grinned. “Was there ever a doubt?”

The man had on his white jacket with its oversized collar and white pants. His partner, Pristine Evolutionary, proudly displayed a puffy, western-style gown. 

Her dress was black as midnight, softly contrasting with her rich umber skin. The gown fit snugly at the torso before expanding dramatically at the hips into a voluminous skirt. Lines of gemstones trailed down in segmented lines, capturing light with each movement. Her bare arms were adorned with delicate butterfly-shaped armlets that encircled her biceps.

“Don’t get me any angrier than I already am,” Pristine grunted. “He’s not going to change. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“Of course not,” Red said. “This outfit is perfection. I shouldn’t have even changed it for the sect.”

Fuhao shook her head, but she was smiling. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late.”

The exclusive party couldn’t be bothered to set up a teleportation point at the Contribution Hall. No, that would be too plebian. Instead, you had to know someone with a personal ship docked at the sect, or pay for transport. 

Thankfully, the Gu Clan, even Fuhao’s branch family, could get them a ship. Her family’s skiff was white with a silvery finish, sleek and built for speed. The AI of the spaceship could pilot the craft without assistance, taking them over to the civilian sections of the planet. 

The vast cities of Selvitari were underwater. Besides the Clear Water Sect, barely anything on the water world was above the surface. The depths of the Heavenly quality continent were too pressurized and Mana-rich for the average folk, so the cities were strategically located at points where the ocean only went several miles deep rather than thousands. 

Because of this, there were no rural or suburban-style regions, only sprawling megalopolises. Alistair read that Selvitari had exactly twenty cities, meaning that with a population of ten billion, the average city housed 500 million people. 

Not counting the wastelands of Fallstride, he hadn’t really explored large cities before. Ah’Drezkah and Faxor were all he had to compare to, which would be nothing compared to Gideon’s Peak, the largest and most prestigious city on all of Selvitari, home to one billion people. 

As their skiff descended toward the city, the true marvel of the underwater civilization unfolded before them. The megalopolis spread across the ocean floor in a sprawling network of transparent domes and sleek spires, interconnected by hundreds of Teleportation Circle stations.

The main city hub was housed under an enormous dome nearly a thousand miles across, reinforced with ultra-pure ambrosic glass that could withstand the crushing pressure of the depths. Beneath this protective canopy, buildings of impossible architecture stretched to the surface, their designs liberated from normal architectural constraints by cultivation-aided engineering.

“Look there,” Fuhao pointed toward the heart of the city where a colossal inverted lotus blossomed over thousands of buildings. “They say that the lotus is as old as the Clear Water Sect. That Gideon himself planted it there.”

Everywhere throughout the city, silver discs dotted the landscape—Teleportation Circles that served as the primary transportation network. Alistair watched as citizens used them casually, like the subway back on Earth. 

Red yawned dramatically, sensing Alistair’s awe. “All cities feel the same when you’ve seen enough of them.”

“Spoken like someone who’s never actually experienced true civilization,” Pristine countered, elbowing him gently.

“And you have?”

“N-no,” Pristine protested with a blush. “I’m just saying, this would be nothing compared to the great cities of… Imperial Consecration or Sanctuary.”

“Mhmm,” Red replied. “I’m sure that’s what you meant.”

Alistair and Fuhao shared a confused glance, but their two friends didn’t expound upon the strange remarks.

Their vessel navigated toward the exclusive Eastern Quadrant, where private estates of the wealthy and powerful rose like coral formations from the seabed. 

Unlike the crowded central districts, these residences were spaced generously apart, each surrounded by cultivated gardens of marine flora that swayed in artificial currents.

Unlike most of the city which was protected from the open ocean, the Eastern Quadrant was submerged in liquid affinity Mana. As Alistair understood it, the water allowed even non-cultivators to breathe, and it didn’t even get you wet. They also somehow altered the properties of the water to allow for mostly normal motion. 

The skiff descended toward a particularly magnificent estate, a palatial structure formed of interlocking hexagonal platforms suspended at various heights, connected by crystalwater bridges. Mana lamps of all colors of the rainbow made the dark surfaces gleam like polished stone, a grand central hexagon serving as the main reception area.

Ships continuously docked on the central hexagon, host of the central mansion, disappearing into thin air after the passengers exited. Alistair knew that the estate owners had to be transporting the ships into a storage area somehow, but he couldn’t figure it out.

“The Xiao Clan estate,” Fuhao explained as they approached the platform. “Yes, the same clan that Xiao Zhenyu belonged to. As one of the premier bloodlines of Mai Atal, this is just their vacation home.”

“Xiao Zhenyu’s family?” Alistair asked. “Didn’t one of their sons just die?”

Fuhao gave him an understanding smile. “The fourth and least talented son. Didn’t you wonder why he was at the Clear Water Sect in the first place? The ducal nobility aren’t to be trifled with, but talent matters more. Duke Xiao can always make another son. Plus, they agreed to host this party far in advance. It would be a loss of face to cancel. They’ll only have cousins here anyway.”

As they stepped onto the obsidian floor, a servant rushed to greet them, bowing deeply.

“Honored guests of the Xiao Clan,” he intoned, “please follow me to the Grand Hexagon.”

The servant guided them to the towering steps leading up to the palace. Alistair wouldn’t have been shocked if just the main estate were over a mile long. The black building was close to the ground, illuminated by orange light that reminded him of twilight.

“I like this air,” Red remarked. “How do they do this?”

“A special formation, lord cultivator,” the servant answered. “The water has been altered at an atomic level to make it breathable and light. You might notice you can still swim, despite being able to move your arms around.”

Alistair confirmed the servant’s words, diving upward into the water. “This must have cost a pretty penny.”

“The Xiao Clan is one of the wealthiest ducal clans in the Empire,” the servant said proudly. “Only the Princely Clans can be said to be our betters, and perhaps if you were to include the ancient holdings of some Progenitors.”

They entered the Grand Hexagon, met with a vast space that could have fit tens of thousands. A glass dome ceiling displayed exotic sea creatures swimming above, while six smaller hexagonal chambers branched from the main hall. Crystalline waterfalls flowed along the walls despite the already underwater environment, while hundreds of cultivators moved through the space amidst the soft music of water instrumentalists on a raised dais.

Alistair carefully surveyed the room, looking for familiar faces. His gaze fell upon Norman Goldhair standing near one of the refreshment tables.

The inner disciple’s solid gold locks were unmistakable, gleaming like actual metal under the Mana lamps. He was urgently discussing something with his companion, Elder Da Rui. That was the unexpected part, as for a respected inner disciple, he seemed far too animated. 

“An elder,” Alistair pointed out. “That’s unusual, isn’t it?”

“The sect likes to keep up with our affairs,” Fuhao said. “I wouldn’t have expected the head of a division, however.”

“I’m going to get some drinks,” Red announced suddenly. “Pristine, would you care to join me?”

Before anyone could object, the pair slipped away into the crowd, leaving Alistair alone with Fuhao.

“Well, shall we mingle?” she asked. 

Alistair surveyed the crowd. The clash of cultures was quite evident. The gendered expectations of men and women in Mai Atal seemed different than elsewhere in the Empire. 

There didn’t seem to be explicit discrimination against women, even in Mai Atal, but the women from the fief were far more coy and demure, even if they did have the same power as everywhere else.

That was to say, even for Dao Companions, public displays of affection were unusual. On the flip side, he saw cultivators of the Emerald Coast making out. Alistair held out his arm for Fuhao. To his surprise, she took it.

They moved through the gathering, exchanging pleasantries with various nobles. Most were from Mai Atal, their formal speech patterns and traditional attire immediately recognizable. 

The Clear Water Sect was officially in Mai Atal, and from what Alistair had seen of the elders, they made up the bulk of the sect’s power.

The Disputed Shard representatives were more flamboyant, their clothing featuring bold designs that bordered on ostentatious. A few Trexians stood in small groups, their pitch-black skin and almost glowing white veins creating striking silhouettes against the room’s backdrop. 

“You’re starting to gain quite the reputation,”  called out a woman with flowing green hair and a coral-adorned dress. Her accent was distinctively Southern American in the system’s translation. “I am the 19th-ranked outer disciple, Nora Seaborn from the Emerald Coast. If I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect that both you and Yan Zheng are trying to reach the inner sect within a year.”

“That is my intention, yes,” Alistair admitted outright. Fuhao was too socially aware to shake her head. “Alistair Tan, the 7,110th-ranked outer disciple.”

Her male partner gave him a cool glare. “And you’re just saying it outright? I’m no Mai Atalan, but you should be careful. The tree that grows too fast is cut down.”

Alistair couldn’t just explain to the man all the various reasons he needed to gain power as fast as possible, so he simply smiled. “I simply wish to get stronger. If my gains allow me to reach the top of the rankings, then it is fated to happen.”

“I don’t care,” Nora said. “But my peers certainly do. They won’t challenge you outright, not yet. It would be beneath their status to challenge someone ranked 7,100. But they’ll send their minions after you. You’re a far easier target than an elder’s nephew, specifically a Peak Visionary elder.”

“Thank you, senior sister. I’ll keep that in mind.”

They continued exchanging pleasantries with people from all parts of the Empire. There were nobles and disciples from even the most disparate fiefs on the opposite end of the Empire, such as Hectopartiman, the Azurite Mines, and Klei Utom. 

It turned out the strange blobs from Cosmic Blood were indeed real creatures, a species called “tentaculites.” Their sheer number and ability to raise powerful cultivators with half the resources of a human were why Klei Utom was considered the most powerful fief. The nephew of the current prince was an even an atavism to an Immemorial Race, the scavenging eterra with an all-consuming appetite.

The Hectopartiman dryads stood out almost as much, standing several feet taller than a human with bark-like skin and leaves and flowers for hair. The predominant species of the Azurite Mines was humanity, but they too stood out amongst the Sharders and Mai Atalans with dark brown skin and variegated hair. 

Alistair’s got attention across the room, where Chu Hua stood surrounded by a small group of admirers.

A tingling sensation ran down his spine. Even if he couldn’t use his Karmic with an active Skill, [Karmic Battery] still allowed him to feel large ripples through the threads of Fate.

“I need to check something,” he whispered to Fuhao. “I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, continuing her conversation with a few local counts as he slipped away toward Chu Hua.

As he approached, he could see the inner disciple was dressed in elegant robes of deep crimson and gold, her hair elaborately styled with jade ornaments. The people around her wore similarly expensive attire, but something about them felt wrong.

“Alistair!” Chu Hua beckoned for him, turning to her companions. “This junior brother of mine has been of invaluable assistance to me over the last month. I have every confidence in his future success.”

The group turned to look at him, their smiles not quite reaching their eyes. One man with a buzz cut, highly unusual for Mai Atal, analyzed him.

“You may call me Zhao Tian,” he said. “My little cousin Hua loves to regale me about this little sect.”

The man only put the slightest emphasis on the word “little,” but it was there. 

“You aren’t from the sect, senior brother Zhao?” Alistair asked.

“No need for that senior brother nonsense,” Tian replied with the wave of a hand. “I’m a direct apprentice of one of the board members of Feiyn Goods.”

Surprisingly, Alistair did have experience with that corporation. Long ago, he had encountered the ghost of a physical demon named Marizel, who had been enslaved by a corporation whose emblem was a blue crescent moon with a golden fist. 

On the Grand Imperator’s ship, it hadn’t been hard to find the identity of that corporation. Feiyn Goods, one of the ten most profitable companies in the Empire and infamous for their utter disregard for traditional strictures and ethical responsibilities.

“And you came all the way here?” Alistair asked. “Isn’t the headquarters of Feiyn Goods in Imperial Consecration?”

“Nominally,” Tian conceded. “We have branches in every fief. My teacher thinks there is much to learn from observing the ossification of society. Learning where we can better ourselves from our failed brethren. That is why Mai Atal is the perfect location.”

“You’re giving off the impression you hate our culture to my friend, big cousin,” Chu Hua said. “If you marry a girl from the Crimson Expanse or Dragon’s Landing, uncle and auntie will kill you.”

“Preservation of our culture has only led to ruin,” Tian said solemnly. “Our cultivators stood at the peak of this universe since its inception. Akata Siar Ka came from Mai Atal, yet her innovations were shunned by her own people! You say I hate us, but how can I do that when I admire that woman so?”

Alistair got the sense that Zhao Tian wasn’t nearly as angry as his tone indicated. Performance and truth blended together. This man wanted something out of him, but he didn’t know what. 

The apprentice raised an eyebrow. “Your father was very bold with your choice of name. Is your mother a Sharder?”

Alistair realized that Chu Hua hadn’t informed her cousin that he was a Prime Initiate. Right when he was about to respond, a commotion near the entrance drew everyone’s attention. 

A procession of the ducal Xiao Clan entered the Grand Hexagon.

Two of the clan’s disciples in the Clear Water Sect led the way, displaying their emerald-green robes with a serpent-mountain insignia embroidered in gold thread. 

Behind them came two Profound realm guards whose auras rippled visibly, carrying ceremonial halberds that gleamed with yellow light.

At the center walked Duke Xiao Lukren himself, his face drawn with barely concealed tension. His green hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and the lines around his yellow snake eyes appeared deeper than they should be for a man of his cultivation level. 

Beside him was a young woman in elaborate scale-patterned robes, her expression carefully neutral as she assessed the gathering.

Their procession marched up to Elder Da Rui. Duke Xiao’s voice cut through the hall like a blade, interrupting Norman’s conversation.

“Elder Da.” The duke let his aura as a Visionary sweep his enormous estate, his tone carrying an edge that silenced all other conversations instantly. “I demand an audience with the Perfect immediately.”

“Duke Xiao,” the elder responded, bowing her head 45 degrees. “The Perfect is not on world at the moment. No one, not even her closest confidants, know when she will return. You should have alerted the sect to your arrival so we could have informed you.”

“Very well,” Duke Xiao said. “Whoever is second-in-command, then.”

“You don’t need to bother Elder Aylesfort.”

A ripple passed through the water of the Grand Hexagon. The liquid parted in a perfect circle, creating a momentary void that drew every eye in the massive hall.

From this aquatic aperture stepped the Perfect herself, Sect Leader Loroa Di Boswann. Her entrance was as elegant as it was unexpected, her eight-foot-tall frame gliding through the water with supernatural grace. Her sect robes flowed around her like living extensions of her will, their deep blue hues shifting with subtle patterns that mimicked the currents of Selvitari’s deep ocean.

The Perfect’s otherworldly beauty commanded absolute attention, her features displaying the perfection that felt almost pathbreaking. Wherever she strided, it felt like the Dao fell in love. Her presence alone seemed to still the water around her, creating a pocket of absolute serenity amidst the shocked gathering.

“I am more than happy to take your meeting now,” the Perfect said. “You may take your leave, Elder Da Rui.”

Elder Da Rui bowed deeply, her petite form almost disappearing in the gesture. “As you wish, Sect Leader.” She threw Norman a meaningful glance before departing.

Duke Xiao’s expression shifted subtly—a mixture of surprise and something that might have been satisfaction. He inclined his head toward the Perfect, not quite a bow but a show of respect between equals.

“Sect Leader Boswann. Your timing is... fortuitous.”

“The Dao moves as the Dao moves,” she replied with serene confidence. “Shall we?”

As the two powerful figures departed into a portal, the gathered crowd erupted into hushed conversations. Alistair watched them go, feeling the weight of their combined auras even as they moved away.

“What do you think that was about?” he asked, turning back to Fuhao.

She shook her head slightly. “The death of Xiao Zhenyu, perhaps? Though I doubt it would warrant the Duke’s personal attention or the Perfect’s immediate response. There must be something more.”

Alistair noticed Fuhao’s attention shift. She was looking past him, her golden eyes brightening.

“Perfect timing,” she said. “They’re about to start the formal dance. It’s considered an honor to participate in the first set.”

As if on cue, musicians began playing a hauntingly beautiful melody. The instruments produced sounds unlike anything Alistair had heard on Earth, notes rippling through the water around them, creating visual patterns in the liquid Mana.

“May I have this dance?” he asked softly, extending his hand to Fuhao with a slight bow.

Her golden eyes sparkled as she accepted. “I thought you'd never ask.”

The dance floor cleared as couples took their positions. Despite his nervousness, Alistair found that his [Adaptive Kinesthesia] made learning the steps remarkably easy. 

The dance was similar to the Sogdian Whirl dance, popular during the Tang dynasty of China. It emphasized rapid spinning and flowing footwork, perfect for the liquid Mana environment. 

As they moved across the floor, Fuhao guided him subtly, her movements perfectly synchronized with the music. Her body felt light as a feather in his arms.

“You’re full of surprises,” she murmured as he executed a particularly complex spin without faltering.

“I have good teachers,” he replied with a smile.

For a moment, all his concerns faded away. There was only the music, the gentle resistance of the water, and Fuhao’s presence in his arms.

As they spun beneath the refracted light, their black and white attire created a mesmerizing yin-yang effect that drew admiring glances from the other dancers. Even the normally reserved Trexians nodded in appreciation of their harmony.

The song reached its crescendo, and Alistair dipped Fuhao low, her hair cascading like black silk. For a heartbeat, they remained suspended in that moment.

When he lifted her back up, her eyes held a depth that took his breath away.

“I told you,” she whispered into his ear. “Some things are too beautiful to last for forever.”

Alistair didn’t agree with Gu Fuhao, though he knew that was the standard logic. As the music transitioned to the next piece, they remained on the dance floor, lost in their own world. 

The need to grow stronger, to obtain Ashendar’s full power, to defend his world from the involved polities in the shadows—those thoughts remained at the back of his mind, never fully vanishing.

For now, though, he would dance with the beautiful woman in his arms and let tomorrow’s troubles wait for tomorrow.