The lingering weight of ancient, suppressed sorrow clung to Long Hu like a shroud. He slumped onto a plush silken cushion in a small, private resting chamber, the very air seeming to vibrate with the residual echoes of the Azure Cloud Monastery's collective grief. His mind felt stretched thin, his unique sense still thrumming with every unseen ache in the grand hall beyond.
Empress Xianxia, her imperial robes exchanged for simpler, though no less elegant, court attire, watched him with a gaze that held a rare, unmasked concern. She conjured a delicate, ethereal orb of swirling starlight and gently placed it near his brow. A wave of profound calm washed over him, easing the mental strain, dulling the sharp edges of the sorrow he had absorbed.
"The Devourers prey on what is hidden, what is denied," Xianxia mused, her voice low, a deep analysis in her tone. "Emotional suppression... a powerful, yet ultimately self-destructive, source of sustenance for them. My realm thrives on open cultivation of inner harmony, on acknowledged growth. We do not bury our turmoil." Her words were a subtle assertion of her realm's superiority, but also a quiet vow to protect it from such a fate.
Long Hu felt the warmth of her spiritual balm, a soothing counterpoint to the chilling memory of the Purity Orb. "It's insidious," he whispered, his voice raspy. "It's not just weakness they target. It's a fundamental aspect of sapient life. Anyone can become... a resource."
As he spoke, a jarring memory erupted, not of grand power, but of profound, aching loneliness. He saw himself, the Harem Lord, amidst a sea of beautiful faces, yet utterly alone. He recalled moments of crushing responsibility, of strategic brilliance, but also of silent, gnawing emptiness, of emotions he ruthlessly suppressed for the sake of his image, his dominion. *A thousand concubines, yet no true confidante.* He remembered a flicker of profound despair, buried deep beneath layers of arrogance and power, a subtle crack in his perfect facade. Was that... a weakness the Shadow had targeted, even then?
He flinched, a raw gasp escaping him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the humiliating vision. It wasn't the glorious power of his past that resurfaced, but its most vulnerable, lonely moments.
Xianxia's hand, cool and slender, came to rest lightly on his arm. "What did you see?" Her voice was soft, laced with an understanding that made him ache. "A wound, perhaps? A burden you once carried?" She wasn't probing for strategic information alone now; she was seeking to understand *him*.
He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. He saw the sharp intelligence there, but also a flicker of shared empathy, a recognition of profound, internal pain. "My own... suppression," he admitted, the words tasting like ash. "A vast loneliness. A despair I never acknowledged, buried beneath... power. It feels like... it could have been a target."
A flicker of something unreadable passed through Xianxia's eyes. She had seen his arrogance, known his betrayal. To see the profound vulnerability beneath it, the lonely core of the formidable Harem Lord, was unsettling. It complicated her vengeance, twisted her understanding of their past. But it also forged a new, fragile link. She felt a protective urge, strange and unwelcome, for this broken, surprisingly honest man.
Just then, Master Tian entered, his stoic face etched with concern. "Your Majesty, reports from the outer Conclave circles. The delegates from the Northern Dominion and Crimson Peaks are exchanging agitated words, subtly rallying others. There is talk of 'unjust affronts' and 'unconventional discernment' targeting honorable realms. A thinly veiled accusation against your judgment, and Apprentice Long Hu's methods."
Xianxia's gaze sharpened, her hand unconsciously tightening on Long Hu's arm. "So, they plot," she murmured, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Despair makes desperate allies. They seek to invalidate our findings because it implicates them."
She turned from him, her strategic mind already calculating. "We will not be deterred. This merely confirms their infection. Master Tian, prepare the Imperial Guard. And ready the next delegation for screening. We will make a statement." She paused, her gaze sweeping over the Conclave map. "The **Aethelgard Alliance**. Their Lord Protector claims absolute spiritual transparency, a bastion of unwavering righteousness. They suffered a major internal schism decades ago, yet their resurgence was inexplicably swift and total. That kind of 'perfect peace' after civil strife is a beacon."
Long Hu felt a chill. The Aethelgard Alliance. Known for their zealous purity. The idea of them being compromised, of their inner peace being a cover for monumental despair, was horrifying. His intuition stirred, sensing a deep, ancient bitterness radiating from their section of the hall.
Xianxia met his gaze, her hand still resting on his arm, a silent bond of shared danger. "They will be your most challenging test yet, Apprentice. For the Devourers hunger not just for quiet despair, but for the profound grief born from fractured unity. Show them the truth."
He nodded, the weight of his unique ability settling upon him. His personal pain, his exposed vulnerabilities, were no longer weaknesses; they were tools. He was Xianxia's key, and together, they would unravel the cosmic tapestry of despair, one hidden sorrow at a time. The battle for the realms was about to escalate into a war for truth itself.