Chapter 175: The Gathering

Note: am properly describing the Arbitration Hall in this Chapter so please don’t get confuse.

Chapter 174: The Gathering

The Cloudstride Celestial Crane banked through the lower cloud sea, descending toward the neutral territories of Country B.

Below, the neutral city spread across the valley floor like an interlocking puzzle of pale limestone and slate.

Unlike the few weeks after the apocalypse, the city now bore no signs of post-apocalyptic ruin. High ramparts of polished river stone gleamed under the midday sun. Tiered pavilions and administrative compounds were connected by broad, paved avenues where merchant carriages and armed cultivators moved in disciplined lanes. Sentries manned the bastions with clockwork precision, their banners snapping in the cold wind.

Here, martial strength answered strictly to institutional authority.

At the heart of the settlement stood the Arbitration Hall.

It was less an office and more an administrative citadel. Black ironwood gates gave way to an expansive plaza paved with seamless gray jade. Soaring pillared colonnades flanked the approach, carved with bas-reliefs of primordial boundary treaties. High above, suspended walkway galleries allowed clerks and archive couriers to shuttle sealed scrolls between towers without stepping onto the streets.

The Celestial Crane touched down on the expansive southern landing platform, its massive wings folding inward without kicking up a single speck of dust.

Elder Rowan Greystone stepped off first, his hands tucked into his wide ash-gray sleeves. "Welcome to neutral ground. Keep your weapons peace-bound and your tempers checked. In the Arbitration Hall, sect pride buys you no leeway."

Seana nudged Lothe’s arm as they descended the gangway. "How many hours of political speeches do you think we’ll have to endure before they let us do real work?"

"At least three," Lothe replied smoothly. "Four if someone decides their lineage requires a formal preface."

Seana exhaled a soft, amused sigh. "Thrilling."

A senior official in dark-blue robes hurried forward, bowing with practiced efficiency. "Elder Rowan. The briefing is set to begin in the High Assembly Chamber. The delegations from the other three great sects are already assembled."

Rowan grunted in acknowledgment. "Lead on."

——————————

The courtyard outside the assembly chamber was alive with movement.

Beneath an open-air stone portico, the Myriad Sword Sect contingent stood in strict formation. Asher leaned against a carved pillar, his greatsword sheathed at his back. Beside him, Adrian paced the flags.

The moment Adrian spotted Lothe, his cheerful grin broke through. "Lothe! Good to see you on your feet."

Lothe inclined his head. "Adrian."

Asher’s eyes swept across the Glacial Spirit group, lingering for a fraction of a second on Nyren. The icy, unapproachable edge on his face softened ever so slightly before snapping back into place. "You’re here," Asher noted.

"Duty calls," Nyren answered evenly.

Across the courtyard, a faint hum of static announced the Heavenly Thunder Sect. Justin Drackar stood among three other disciples. When his gaze locked with Lothe’s, his jaw tightened—the memory of their past collision still fresh—but he offered a stiff, respectful nod.

Lothe returned the nod with calm detachment.

From the northern corridor, the Azure Wind Sect filed in with silent, graceful footfalls. Anelle, Ambiel, and Arvessa led their group, their jade pendants clinking softly against wind-woven silk.

"All four houses assembled," Darian muttered, crossing his thick arms. "Whatever is happening out in the villages, the Council is treating it like an invasion."

"It’s not an invasion," Lothe murmured, his eyes sweeping across the stones beneath his boots.

"Then what is it?" Caelan asked.

"Something systematic," Lothe said softly.

His spatial perception grazed the ground. Beneath the heavy flagstones lay a faint, ancient deadening ward—not an active formation, but a residual stabilization field built deep into the bedrock of the city. Whoever had engineered this place centuries ago understood subterranean mechanics.

Before he could probe further, the heavy bronze doors of the High Assembly Chamber groans open.

"The assembly is in session," a herald announced.

——————————

Inside, the High Chamber was cavernous.

Rows of polished mahogany tiers descended toward a central sunken platform, overlooked by towering archive shelves stacked with thousands of jade slips. Above the dais hung the massive brass crest of the Joint Council, depicting four interlocking elements.

At the center of the platform stood Director Halden Voss, a sharp-featured man with hair graying at the temples, wearing the dark-blue ceremonial robes of the Joint Investigation Division.

When the four delegations took their respective seats, Voss raised a single hand. The chamber fell dead silent.

"Thank you for responding with haste," Voss began, his voice amplified by an acoustic array. "We will bypass protocol. The emergency concerns an anomalous series of abductions across Country B."

He swept his sleeve across a low pedestal. A massive projection array flared to life, casting an illuminated topographical map above the floor. Nine crimson markers pulsed across the eastern and southern counties.

"Eight children were confirmed missing over the last twelve days," Voss stated. "Three hours ago, a ninth report was logged five miles east of Willowbrook Village."

A heavy silence settled over the room.

"Ages range from four to nine," Voss continued. "Spanning both mortal farming families and low-tier cultivation households. No ransom demands. No common family grudges. And most critically: zero signs of struggle."

Justin Drackar leaned forward, electricity flickering around his collar. "No tracks? Not even a broken latch or displaced soil?"

"None," Voss answered flatly. "In four separate cases, the children vanished within arm’s reach of supervising adults. One boy was in a fenced courtyard while his mother prepared medicinal herbs ten feet away. In the Willowbrook case, the five-year-old was in the middle of a game of hide-and-seek."

Seana’s fingers tightened inside her sleeves. "Hide-and-seek?"

"Yes," Voss confirmed. "He ran behind a storage shed. When the other children looked for him ten seconds later, he was gone."

Asher spoke next, his deep voice carrying clear across the platform. "What occurred immediately prior to the disappearances? Did anyone report an unusual draft? A change in the air pressure? An unfamiliar scent or sound?"

Voss adjusted his ledger. "The reports indicate ordinary village life until the moment of absence."

"Then the method bypasses standard perception," Lothe cut in calmly, his voice drawing every eye in the hall. "Cultivators track displacement—we look for bent grass, crushed earth, or broken Qi pathways. If someone takes a target without moving through the surface medium, the evidence won’t be on the ground."

Caelan nodded slowly beside him. "He’s right. If the abductor uses a specialized domain or subterranean medium, surface search parties will find nothing."

Voss studied Lothe for a long moment, a flicker of sharp intellect crossing the director’s features. "Precisely why the Joint Council requested specialized disciples. Standard investigators are searching for human footsteps. We need minds that understand anomalous mechanics."

He turned back to the map, his hand cutting through the air to assign coordinates.

"The Myriad Sword Sect will sweep the northern mountain corridors for hidden physical infrastructure. The Heavenly Thunder Sect will deploy across the eastern ridges to force any concealed cloaking wards to resonate. The Azure Wind Sect will handle witness interrogation and ancestral bloodline tracking."

Voss’s gaze settled on Rowan and the Glacial Spirit delegation.

"Elder Rowan, your team will proceed to Willowbrook Village and the adjacent eastern settlement. Secure the latest crime scenes. Trace the anomaly from its freshest origin."

"Understood," Rowan rumbled.

"Dismissed," Voss ordered. "Bring those children back."

——————————

As the hall cleared, Lothe remained by the distribution desk, flipping through the parchment dossier for Willowbrook.

Seana leaned over his shoulder, the faint, clean fragrance of cold lotus brushing his cheek. "Find something?"

"Something is missing," Lothe muttered, his thumb tracing a short, three-line paragraph on the third leaf.

"Missing?"

"The summary mentions an elderly witness who reported a strange acoustic disturbance moments before the child vanished. But the scribe classified the sound as ’environmental noise’ and omitted the direct testimony."

Lothe immediately stepped toward Director Voss, who was sealing a dispatch case. "Director."

Voss looked up. "Yes?"

"The Willowbrook file references an acoustic anomaly reported by a villager, but the original deposition was cut from the dossier. Who summarized this file?"

Voss’s brow furrowed. He took the parchment, scanning the bottom margin. A hard edge crept into his eyes. "This was compiled by the second-tier scribes at the frontier post."

He snapped his fingers, signaling an aide. "Send a courier hawk to the outer post. I want the complete, unedited transcripts from the Willowbrook registry delivered to my desk within the hour."

Lothe met the director’s gaze. "Don’t bother with the hawk. We’re heading there now. We’ll ask the witness directly."

Voss offered a rare, grim nod. "Okay."?