Gawin stared, transfixed by the flashing red digits. “Thirty days? That’s… that’s less than a month, Maliwan! What are we going to do? Where do we even start?”
Maliwan leaned closer to the ancient schematics unrolled across her worktable. The lines, once faint with age, now pulsed with a sickly yellow glow, mirroring the frantic cadence of her wrist-device. “We start by accepting the new reality,” she said, her voice a low hum of pure, cold logic. “Elder Thong-kam’s illicit siphoning hasn’t just accelerated the core’s decay; it’s destabilized the foundational matrix. Look here.” She traced a finger over a spiraling pattern at the heart of the blueprint. “This isn’t merely a support structure. This is the great formation. It’s supposed to be a self-regulating conduit, a heart for the entire system.”
“A heart?” Gawin coughed, still wincing from his burns. “But it looks… empty. Like a void.”
“Precisely. Because the true relic core isn’t there anymore.” Maliwan squinted at the faded annotations. “Centuries ago, someone removed it. Replaced it with a bypass circuit—a temporary fix. And that bypass is failing. It’s a literal ticking time bomb.”
“But… if it was stolen, then who… and where is it now?” Gawin stammered, his gaze drifting towards the ceiling of Maliwan’s study, as if the answer might fall from above.
As if on cue, the sturdy timber beams overhead groaned, a sound like a giant snapping bone. A spiderweb of cracks erupted across the ceiling, followed by a shower of dust and splinters. Then, with a deafening CRASH, a section of the roof tore open, disgorging two figures and a cascade of jagged tiles and pulverized wood.
Prince Virote landed first, rolling with an undignified squawk before scrambling to his feet, hair dishevelled, his silken tunic singed at the edges. Swordmaster Kiet, ever the more composed, dropped lightly onto the floor, his longsword already drawn, a thin plume of smoke curling from its tip. Behind them, through the gaping hole in the ceiling, a cloud of iridescent, segmented bodies began to pour in.
“Maliwan! Dearest sister! We have returned!” Virote announced, puffing out his chest, ignoring the debris still raining around him. “The solar mirrors are aligned! A feat of unparalleled romantic devotion, if I do say so myself! Though,” he added, swatting idly at a multi-legged pest that buzzed past his ear, “there were some… unexpected complications.”
The complications materialized into a chittering swarm of sky-crawlers, each as long as Maliwan’s forearm, their iridescent carapaces scraping together. They writhed and scuttled, mandibles clicking, antennae twitching with predatory hunger. The air in the room immediately reeked of bitter venom.
“Unexpected complications? You collapsed a vermin nest straight into my quarters!” Maliwan kept her voice level, though her teeth grated. She pointed toward the walls where the horrors skittered over scroll racks. “Virote! Kiet! You must contain them! Drive them back!”
Kiet, ever eager to please, spun his blade in a dazzling arc, severing three carapaces in a single sweep. “Is this part of the Celestial Blade’s trial, Maliwan? To purge the pestilence?” he asked, his expression hard and intense. He lunged, striking down another dozen of the beasts.
Virote, meanwhile, had recovered his princely poise. He flared his spiritual pressure, throwing out a heat-shimmer that repelled the closest crawlers. “Fear not, my dearest Maliwan! Your brave prince shall protect you!” He punched through a cluster of the creatures, a small explosion of green ichor splattering across the chalk-white walls of her laboratory. “These vile beasts shall be swept aside like the dust beneath your elegant slipper!”
Maliwan ignored their posturing. Her gaze was fixed on a small, ornate compass she had hastily pulled from a hidden compartment. The dial, usually sluggish, now quivered violently, fed by the physical chaos unfolding around her. Each parry from Kiet, each concussive punch from Virote, channeled force through the device, spinning its brass pointer faster until it locked in place.
[Kinetic Energy Absorption: Optimal. Target Vector Calibrated.]
The compass glowed, pointing straight down through the floorboards and into the foundations of the Chedi. It pulsed with a steady, rhythmic thrum, a silent beacon leading to the source of the hidden power.
“Gawin, follow that reading,” Maliwan ordered, her voice sharp. “It’s pointing to the primary core. I need you to confirm its location.”
Gawin, still nursing his burns, bravely grabbed a nearby broomstick and, shielding his face, darted towards the glowing compass, peering at its trembling brass point. “It’s… it’s pointing directly to Elder Thong-kam’s private meditation chamber, Maliwan! The one beneath the Main Shrine!”
The pieces fit together: the Elder hadn’t merely mined raw essence; he had tapped the stolen relic for his personal cultivation, using it as an illicit battery while the bypass withered.
The room now resembled a slaughterhouse, with Virote and Kiet cleaving through the skittering horde. Green ichor splattered, mandibles snapped, and Maliwan’s precious research notes fluttered under the chaotic air currents. She had to recover that missing piece before thirty sunrises passed.
Just as she resolved to formulate a plan to retrieve the stolen component, a deep, resonant voice boomed through the very stones of the Chedi, shaking the already damaged structure. Elder Thong-kam’s voice, amplified by powerful magic, reverberated across every tier of the pagoda, silencing the chittering bugs and cutting short Virote and Kiet’s grunts of combat.
“Attention, disciples of the Chedi of Seven Dawns! By the authority vested in me by the Grand Abbot, I, Head Elder Thong-kam, declare Maliwan of the Fifth Tier a traitor to the sect, a desecrator of sacred relics, and a perpetrator of insidious acts against the realm! Her crimes are grave, her intentions malicious! By decree, Maliwan’s immediate execution for treason is ordered!”