As the Moon Demon, Tso Lan held complete dominion over the dual authorities of attraction and repulsion.
By extension, this also meant he was capable of achieving numerous feats that far transcended mortal comprehension.
Under the subtle manipulation of gravitational forces, the fabric of space within the Opera Epiclese began to warp, altering its appearance in a mere instant. The shafts of light cascading from the rafters bent and fractured at impossible angles across microscopic distances, as if passing through a mirror shattered into ten thousand shards.
Focalors suppressed the look of astonishment rising to her face as everything within her field of vision grew warped and uncanny.
The figure clad in Daoist robes before her suddenly dissolved into a chaotic, unfathomable blur. Looking at him felt like peering through layer upon layer of overlapping, fractured mirror images. His silhouette multiplied and stacked over itself, shattering and coalescing erratically. The final image presented to her eyes was an unspeakable, incomprehensible anomaly that defied direct observation, exuding an aura of pure, cosmic dread.
In a daze, she cast her gaze down at her own form.
At some unknown point, her own pristine silhouette had also grown blurred and distorted, resembling a reflection viewed through ripples of scorching, shimmering heat rising from a furnace. She realized with a jolt that it was not her true self that was twisting, but the physical space of the Opera Epiclese itself. It was being arbitrarily kneaded and reshaped like clay in the hands of this undocumented Descender; no sight, perception, or even conscious thought could breach the barrier he had seamlessly erected.
"How utterly terrifying," Focalors sighed, acknowledging that the word 'powerful' was entirely inadequate to describe the entity before her.
"I am aware that you are utilizing these public trials to accumulate Indemnitium, intending to use it to shatter your own Divine Throne and break the prophecy," Zoran remarked. His voice had also been warped by the spatial distortion, sounding like an eerie, multi-layered whisper.
"Indeed. When that day comes, I will return the full Authority of Hydro to Neuvillette."
The authorities of the Seven Archons had been stolen, or rather, plundered, from the Seven Sovereigns by the First Descender, who was known now as the Heavenly Principles. To a certain extent, it could be called the ancient Dragon King's absolute power.
"That authority... I shall be taking it," Zoran stated indifferently.
He spoke with complete nonchalance, as if the sacred authority of a god were nothing more than a dish left on a banquet table, already reserved exclusively for him.
Focalors offered him a calculated look.
In truth, the final hour of her grand machinations was fast approaching. Her plan was to sacrifice herself through execution, bestowing the fully restored power of the Sovereign upon Neuvillette to gamble on a single possibility, a gamble that Neuvillette, having resided in Fontaine for five centuries, would not stand idly by and watch the nation drown, but would step forward to suppress the Primordial Sea.
Yet, Zoran's sudden appearance opened an entirely different path. She hesitated for a moment before speaking softly, "Neuvillette has aided me immensely..."
"And?" Zoran replied calmly.
"And..." Focalors faltered, murmuring to herself.
She had not forgotten the words Zoran had used to introduce himself: he was a Descender, but he could also be a marauder. As a deity, she naturally understood a simple truth—the universe was fundamentally cruel. If Neuvillette could accomplish a task, this entity could undoubtedly execute it flawlessly.
She nodded slowly. "I have but one request. Only one."
Without a doubt, as a god, she was exceptionally dedicated. The only thing occupying her mind was the survival of her people.
The previous Hydro Archon, Egeria, had perished during the cataclysm of Khaenri'ah, passing the seemingly insurmountable burden of the prophecy down to her most trusted Lochfolk, Focalors herself. As both a subordinate and a successor, Focalors had proven to be entirely reliable.
Zoran understood exactly what she was asking. He inclined his head smoothly. "Granted."
With a casual flick of his wide sleeve, the distorted space began to mend itself, and the Opera Epiclese snapped back to its original state.
Focalors had made her choice, and her five-hundred-year plot was rapidly drawing to its close. Zoran decided to simply go with the flow; it was the method that required the least amount of exertion. He only needed to exchange a few words and intervene at the absolute critical moment.
Deceiving the Heavenly Principles was a simple task, but waging a brutal war of attrition against her would be rather tedious. He was constantly traveling across countless dimensions, and out of his seven demonic brothers and sisters, only two had been broken out of their netherworld prisons so far. He could not afford to track down the local syndicate boss and challenge them to a duel in every single universe he visited. That was a crude tactic Shendu would employ, completely unsuited to Zoran's refined disposition.
After all, he still had many worlds left to tread.
Focalors was a thoroughly reasonable goddess, which left Zoran in a rather pleasant mood. Tucking both hands into his voluminous sleeves, he hummed a soft, ethereal melody as he drifted away into the distance.
A day off.
That was a concept entirely foreign to the Moon Demon.
Outside the grand gates of the Opera Epiclese, Zoran glided effortlessly through the bustling crowds.
"Huh? Hey, it's that guy from before!" Paimon squeaked, spotting Zoran's distinctive silhouette.
She was floating alongside the Traveler, currently conversing with Lyney to discuss their next magic showcase. Zoran came to a smooth halt, shifting his gaze toward the group.
The blond youth standing before him was the absolute protagonist of this world.
The Traveler, Aether.
To be completely honest, Zoran harbored zero interest in him. The Traveler was entirely unlike Lu Mingfei. While both individuals were weak by his standards, there was a stark distinction in their fundamental nature.
Lu Mingfei could be cowardly and pathetic at times, but if Zoran gave him a firm push or a harsh lesson, the boy would genuinely gamble his life away for the things he clung to. At the absolute precipice, Lu Mingfei could transform into a bloodshot gambler willing to stake his very soul. Furthermore, the world of Dragon Raja had been a personal gift curated for Shendu. This continent, however, was a different story, even its vast oceans were far too microscopic.
As a mere passerby, Zoran only needed to extract the Hydro Archon's authority to liberate his sister, Bai Tza. He had no intention of presenting such a pitifully small body of water as a grand gift to the Water Demon; he was not a petty or ungenerous brother. As the elder sibling, it was his duty to ensure fairness and equality among his family.
Therefore, this world had no need for a proxy. The struggles of others were entirely irrelevant to him.
He offered a soft smile, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at Paimon. "Next time, refrain from calling people 'that guy' behind their backs. Do keep that in mind."
With a serene smile, he drifted further down the boulevard.
Behind him, Paimon offered a thoroughly awkward laugh, instinctively shrinking her head into her shoulders.
Leaving the opera house behind, the distinct architecture and vibrant culture of the newly encountered nation unfolded before him, and a familiar blue figure quickly caught his attention. She appeared to be moving with a comical amount of stealth, trying her best to blend into the scenery.
"Lady Furina?" Zoran called out her name.
"Ahem!" Furina immediately placed her hands on her hips, assuming a grand, theatrical posture as she puffed out her chest and projected her voice:
"Indeed! Standing before you is none other than the focal point of all adoration in Fontaine, the great Lady Furina herself!"
Observing her desperate attempt to project an aura of supreme arrogance, an act that fell short in almost every metric, Zoran's lips curled into an amused smile.
"A decent effort. But next time, you should try putting a bit more conviction into the performance," he evaluated smoothly.
"Huh?" Furina blinked, momentarily thrown off balance. "A performance? I am the one and only Hydro Archon, an absolute reality!"
Zoran remarked, "Amusing. So, in your eyes, a deity is supposed to behave like this?"
"Well, obviously!" Furina lifted her chin proudly. "Traveler from afar, your magic performance with Lyney earlier did catch my divine eye. The gaze of a god is currently upon you! As a distinguished member of your audience, ahem... perhaps you could enlighten me on the underlying mechanics of that little trick."
"The mechanics?" Zoran murmured softly. "So you are a fan."
"Uh, well, put that way, it isn't entirely inaccurate..."
Furina hesitated. She suddenly realized that the carefully fabricated aura she had conjured had mysteriously crumbled the very instant she faced this man. It made absolutely no sense. She was the grand superstar and the reigning deity of Fontaine; anyone meeting her for the first time should be groveling in utmost reverence.
Yet, this complete stranger seemed entirely immune to her theatrics. His presence was calm and understated, yet she found herself utterly incapable of overwhelming it.
"Very well," Zoran replied with a pleasant smile. "I have always maintained a friendly disposition toward my admirers."
"Excellent! So, what is the secret behind it?" Furina clapped her hands in pure delight. "At first, I assumed it was a clever application of elemental energy, but when I questioned Neuvillette just now, even he admitted he couldn't perceive a thing!"
So that was the reason.
Right before her eyes, Zoran silently extended his arm, turning his palm upward. Furina's gaze instantly locked onto his hand, but it was completely empty. Just as a wave of confusion began to cross her features, her body suddenly defied all laws of nature.
Without warning, she broke contact with the cobblestones, drifting helplessly upward into the air.
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