Chapter 21– The Thirteenth Seat
Far away from the Azure Continent, beyond the space Li Chen knew, there was another land.
It was called Tianmo Continent.
The sky there was always dim, as if the sun never fully rose. A layer of pale grey clouds covered the heavens all year round, and even at noon the world looked like early evening. The land itself was vast, filled with towering black mountains and forests of dark red trees whose leaves never fell.
Spiritual energy in Tianmo was very dense. Not violent, unlike the thin one that existed in the Azure continent. It pressed against the body constantly, as if the world itself was testing whether you were strong enough to live in it.
The cities were built from dark stone that looked almost metallic. Tall towers rose into the grey sky, connected by narrow bridges high above the ground. People moved through the air casually, their robes fluttering as if gravity meant very little to them.
At the very center of the continent stood a massive palace carved directly into a mountain. It wasn't flashy, but anyone who stood before it would understand one thing — this was not a place ordinary people could enter.
This was the ancestral ground of the Tianmo continent.
The Tianmo people looked human, but there was something slightly different about them. Their skin was unnaturally pale, not sickly, just too flawless. Most had dark hair, though some were born with faint silver strands mixed in. Their eyes were sharp and deep, carrying a faint glow when their emotions stirred. Their presence was quiet, but suffocating.
Inside the palace, in a long meeting hall illuminated by cold blue lanterns, a large black table stretched across the room.
There were twelve high chairs placed along its sides, six on each side, and one chair positioned at the very end of the table.
That chair sat slightly higher than the rest.
The air in the hall was heavy to the point it felt hard to breathe. If an Arcane Plane cultivator from the Azure Continent were to step inside this room, their knees would probably buckle instantly. The weakest person seated here was far beyond that level. In the Tianmo Continent, Arcane Plane cultivators would at best qualify to serve as outer guards in a major clan.
Soft voices echoed around the table, but the atmosphere was far from friendly. The men and women seated there spoke in low tones, exchanging glances that carried more hostility than words.
At the head of the table sat a man who looked to be in his early thirties.
He was lean, almost scholarly in appearance. His black hair was tied neatly behind him, and his face was sharp but calm. If not for the pressure surrounding him, someone might mistake him for a refined teacher rather than a powerful cultivator.
His name was Yue Jian.
He leaned back slightly in his chair, one hand resting against the armrest, his expression carrying a permanent hint of boredom. His eyes moved lazily from one person to another while the discussions continued, as if he wasn't particularly interested in what they were saying.
But no one ignored him.
The thirteen seats in that hall represented the thirteen main families of the Yue Clan. Although they were called families, each of them controlled vast territories and countless subordinates across Tianmo Continent. The one who occupied the head seat came from the Thirteenth Family, the main bloodline of the clan, and that position had always been passed down through direct inheritance.
Until now.
A man seated on the left side of the table cleared his throat.
He looked older than the rest, though his eyes were sharp and restless. His name was Zhao Wenliang. His thin fingers tapped lightly against the table as he spoke.
"Clan Head Yue," he said calmly, "it has been years. We have received no confirmed news regarding the young master of the Thirteenth Family. At this point, it is difficult to believe he is still alive."
The room grew quieter.
Another man sitting beside him, Li Qingshan, nodded slowly. There was a similar calculating look in his eyes.
"The rules of the clan are clear," Li Qingshan added. "If the main bloodline cannot produce an heir, the head seat cannot remain indefinitely occupied."
Across from them, a younger-looking woman frowned. She didn't hide the irritation in her voice.
"You're speaking as if the young master has already died," she said. "There has been no confirmation of that."
Zhao Wenliang smiled faintly. "Disappearing for this long in Tianmo Continent is rarely a good sign."
The words hung in the air.
The Thirteenth Family did have an heir.
But he had vanished years ago without a trace.
Without him, Yue Jian's position as the representative of the main bloodline was unstable. The inheritance system in the Tianmo continent was strict. Power flowed through blood. If the direct line broke, the strongest among the remaining families would take the head seat. It wasn't just a matter of pride; it would reshape the entire balance of the continent.
Spiritual pressure suddenly surged from both sides of the table. The blue lanterns flickered violently as the air trembled. The table beneath their hands began to crack slightly under the invisible force.
It wasn't an all-out fight, but it was close.
Before things could escalate, everything went still.
The pressure vanished.
It didn't fade gradually. It simply disappeared.
Like someone had pressed the pause button on reality
Yue Jian hadn't moved much. He only lifted his eyes slightly, and the suffocating aura in the hall settled instantly.
This caused Zhao We Liang to slowly sit down.
Yue Jian's bored expression didn't change.
"The heir is alive," he said evenly.
No one interrupted him this time.
"He may be missing, but he is not dead."
Zhao Wenliang's smile thinned a little. "And if he does not return?"
Yue Jian rested his chin lightly against his hand and looked at everyone in the room one by one.
"One year," he said.
The murmurs stopped completely.
"You will give the Thirteenth Family a year. If the heir does not return within that time, the main bloodline will forfeit the head seat."
No dramatic tone. No anger.
Just a statement.
The others exchanged glances. One year was short, but it was enough to appear fair.
After a moment, Zhao Wenliang nodded. "Very well."
One by one, the others agreed.
Yue Jian stood up, signaling the end of the meeting.
There were no grand declarations.
No explosive arguments.
Just a silent understanding.
If the heir returned, nothing would change.
If he didn't, Tianmo Continent would enter a new era.
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