The second day inside the Altar was slower. Deliberately.
They'd established a base camp in the ruins of a watchtower near the border between the outer and middle rings. The structure was intact enough to provide shelter, and its elevated position gave them sight lines across the surrounding terrain. Mingxue fortified it with defensive formations borrowed from the Lian family's supplies — nothing powerful, but enough to trigger an alert if someone approached.
Rhen used the morning to cultivate. The Altar's ambient qi was dense enough to push his cultivation forward with minimal effort — the Heavenly Heart Unfettered Art drank it in, and the Pure Yang barrier he'd been pressing against for days felt thinner. Not broken. But thinner.
Suyin used the morning for reconnaissance.
Her Heaven's Eye, enhanced by the Altar's qi saturation, reached further and with more clarity than it ever had in the mortal world. She sat cross-legged atop the watchtower, eyes closed, silver light flickering behind her lids, and mapped the dimension's interior.
"There are twenty-three teams active in the outer ring," she reported. "Fourteen in the middle ring. Three teams have already been eliminated — forced out by beast encounters or team combat. The scoring leader is currently the Taihua team. Lingwei's water qi techniques are efficient for beast harvesting."
"Yuanyang?"
"Second. Tiankui is focused on accumulating beast cores. He hasn't engaged other teams. He's saving his energy."
"For me."
"For you."
Rhen nodded. One more day until the amphitheater encounter. He needed the breakthrough before then.
"What else do you see?"
Suyin's expression changed. The foresight shifted from tactical scanning to something deeper — her brow creased, her breathing slowed.
"Bodies," she said. "In the deep ruins. Three cultivators — young, all with notable spiritual physiques. Two Sacred Body holders and one Divine Body. They've been dead for less than twelve hours." Her eyes opened. "Their spiritual essence is gone. Drained. Like Jian Tianshan."
The conspiracy. Active inside the Altar. Someone was using the Assembly as a hunting ground, just as the Ancestor had warned.
"Can you identify who did it?"
"No. The killer leaves no qi signature. Whatever technique they're using to drain spiritual essence also erases their presence. It's sophisticated — Sacred Sect elder level work, at minimum."
"The hooded figure from Tianshan's memory."
"Or someone working with them." Suyin's voice was steady, but Rhen felt her unease through the bond — the cold prickle of encountering something that frightened her. "The victims were isolated. Separated from their teams during beast hunts or scouting missions. The killer waits for opportunities, not confrontations. They're methodical."
"Any pattern in the targets?"
"All three had spiritual physiques in the top categories. Sacred Body or higher. The killer is specifically hunting cultivators with special bodies." She paused. "Like me."
Rhen's chest tightened. "You're staying suppressed."
"I am. But if the killer can detect spiritual bodies through suppression techniques—"
"Then we stay together. At all times. No exceptions."
---
Mingxue returned from a solo patrol at midday, carrying two Pure Yang beast cores and blood on her armor that wasn't hers.
"Encountered a Great Zhao team in the eastern ruins," she reported, setting the cores on the camp table. "Their prodigy — Zhao Fengli, the swordsman — challenged me to a one-on-one. I declined. His guardian got aggressive. I broke his arm." She said this the way she said most things about combat — factually, without pleasure or regret.
"The Great Zhao delegation won't appreciate that."
"The Great Zhao delegation should teach their guardians not to draw weapons on women who've already said no." She cleaned her sword. "Fengli himself was reasonable. Strong technique, disciplined. He pulled his guardian back and apologized. I think we can work with him."
"Work with?"
"Alliance. Temporary. For the duration of the Assembly." She looked at Rhen. "We need information on the murders, and we can't investigate alone without leaving ourselves vulnerable. Fengli's team is competent, and Great Zhao has no Sacred Sect affiliation. We share the same vulnerability."
Rhen considered this. Mingxue's tactical mind at work — turning a confrontation into an opportunity. The War Goddess collected allies the way her sister collected information.
"Set up a meeting. Neutral ground. I want to talk to Fengli before committing."
"Already arranged. He'll meet us at the scoring pavilion this evening."
---
The scoring pavilion was a formation-generated structure at the center of the outer ring — an open-air arena where teams deposited beast cores and received their accumulated points. It was also the Assembly's de facto social hub, where delegations mingled, traded information, and assessed each other's strength.
Zhao Fengli was waiting near the entrance. He was tall, lean, built like a greyhound — all long limbs and efficient muscle. His face was angular, serious, with dark eyes that had the focused intensity of a competitive fighter. He wore simple gray training clothes and carried a straight sword that was worn from use, not ornament.
"Rhen Jorik," he said. No bow, no formality. A nod. "Mingxue spoke highly of you. Which is unusual, since she speaks highly of approximately nobody."
"She said your technique was disciplined."
"That's Mingxue-speak for 'not terrible.' I'll take it." He gestured toward a quieter corner of the pavilion. "Walk with me."
They walked. Suyin trailed behind, suppressed, invisible. Mingxue positioned herself at a distance — close enough to intervene, far enough to give the conversation privacy.
"Three cultivators are dead inside the Altar," Fengli said without preamble. "Two from mortal kingdoms, one from Taiyi's outer disciples. All three had notable spiritual physiques. All three were found drained of spiritual essence, bodies aged beyond recognition."
"You know about the murders."
"Everyone knows. The Assembly elders are pretending it's beast attacks, but beasts don't drain spiritual essence and leave the body intact." Fengli's jaw tightened. "One of the dead was a teammate of mine. Liao Qiang. Sacred Body holder — Celestial Wind type. We entered the ruins together, split up to cover more ground, and by the time I found him—" He stopped. Breathed. "He looked a hundred years old. He was nineteen."
Rhen felt the weight of that settle between them. A young man describing finding his friend's body — aged, drained, discarded. The same thing that had happened to Jian Tianshan.
"This isn't random," Rhen said. "Someone is using the Assembly as cover to harvest spiritual bodies. It's organized. It's been happening for centuries — every Assembly cycle, prodigies with special physiques go in and don't come out."
"You know more than I expected."
"I've encountered the edges of this conspiracy before. A Sacred Sect elder with a judge's ring — someone with enough authority to operate inside the Altar without scrutiny."
Fengli's eyes sharpened. "A judge. That narrows it to the Assembly's presiding panel — five elders, one from each Sacred Sect. They have unrestricted access to every zone in the Altar."
"That's the killer's cover. They use their authority to move freely while the competition keeps everyone else busy."
"Then we need to identify which elder." Fengli stopped walking. Faced Rhen directly. "Mingxue said you have abilities that defy normal cultivation. That your power comes from something older than the Sacred Sects. I don't need to know the details. I need to know if you can help me find the person who killed my friend."
"I can try. My abilities include foresight — limited, but real. And my partner has analytical capabilities that exceed anything I've seen in mortal-kingdom cultivators."
"Suyin. The attendant." Fengli's mouth quirked. "I noticed her. So did Lingwei, by the way — the Taihua Holy Maiden. She approached me this afternoon asking if I knew who the 'suppressed aura' near the Lian delegation belonged to."
Rhen's stomach dropped. "Lingwei asked about Suyin?"
"Not by name. She described sensing 'something unusual' near your team. Something her Dao Body responded to." He paused. "She didn't seem hostile. Curious. The Holy Maiden is curious about a lot of things, from what I hear."
"What do you hear?"
"That she publishes philosophical texts under a pen name. That she's smarter than anyone in her Sect gives her credit for. And that she's being forced into a marriage she finds repulsive." Fengli shrugged. "Rumor-level intelligence. But consistent across multiple sources."
Rhen absorbed this. Lingwei was investigating Suyin. Not hostile — curious. But curiosity from a Sacred Sect Holy Maiden could turn in any direction.
"The alliance," Rhen said. "What do you want?"
"Shared intelligence on the murders. Combined defense if the killer targets any of our people. And when we identify who's responsible—" Fengli's hand rested on his sword. "Justice."
"Not revenge?"
"Revenge is for people who've stopped thinking. Justice requires a plan." He extended his hand. "Great Zhao and Great Yue. The first mortal-kingdom alliance in a hundred years."
Rhen took his hand. Firm grip, calloused palm. The handshake of a man who meant what he said.
"Alliance," Rhen agreed.
They released. Fengli nodded, turned, and walked back toward the Great Zhao camp. Efficient. No lingering. The swordsman who'd just agreed to something that could get him killed, and didn't waste time being dramatic about it.
Mingxue appeared at Rhen's shoulder. "Well?"
"He's trustworthy."
"How do you know?"
"A hundred years of reading people. His grief was real. His anger was controlled. And he called Mingxue-speak out in the first sentence, which means he's perceptive enough to be useful."
"I do not have a 'speak.'"
"You have an entire dialect."
She hit his arm. Not hard — the kind of impact that was communication, not violence. Through the bond, something warm pulsed. Humor. She'd never transmitted humor before.
"The amphitheater is tomorrow," she said. "Are you ready?"
"Almost." Rhen looked at the amber dome above — the Altar's ceiling, the barrier between this sealed world and the one outside. "Tonight, I break through."
"You've been saying that for a week."
"Tonight I mean it."
"How do you know?"
He touched the white lock of hair over his eye. The Heavenly Heart Unfettered Art hummed inside him, patient and warm, waiting.
"Because I finally stopped pushing," he said.
That night, under the amber dome's light, Rhen sat in the watchtower's upper chamber and let the breakthrough come to him. Not forcing. Not pushing. Just breathing, slowly, the way the technique was designed — one long, patient breath after another.
The barrier dissolved like mist in morning sun.
Pure Yang eighth level.
The qi surged, settled, stabilized. Rhen opened his eyes to a world that was sharper, deeper, more detailed than it had been a breath ago. The Altar's formations were visible in the air itself — gossamer threads of ancient power, woven into the dimension's fabric.
Through the bond, Suyin smiled in her sleep. Mingxue, standing watch on the tower's lower level, felt the breakthrough and said nothing.
She didn't need to. The silence between them was comfortable now.
Tomorrow, the Solar Supreme.
Rhen closed his eyes and let the night carry him.
