Modern Patriarch

Yao Shen ascertained Shadow’s location via the thread of divine sense he had split off earlier, marking her position near the center of the inner sect. Even from this distance, the eight storey ivory tower that jutted into the skies was clearly visible to the naked eye, representing one of the landmarks of the Heavenly Sky Sect— Silveni’s Heirloom, a rather peculiar name for a majestic construct that served, partly, as the Patriarch’s residence.

However, most disciples referred to it as ‘The Sky Tower’, or simply ‘The Tower’, its true name deliberately concealed from them. Only Yao Shen, the elders, and the higher ranked guardians were aware of the implications behind the name ‘Silveni' — for even though it was far before their time, the fragmented records from before the Era of Turmoil spoke highly of the House of Silveni, a highly skilled line of cultivators specializing in the art of forging true constructs.

Silveni’s Heirloom was the only remnant left of such an illustrious and influential House that it only deepened Yao Shen’s suspicion related to the events surrounding the Era of Turmoil, but his prudent side had always maintained a tight hold over that curiosity. Safe to say, it was no mere ordinary tower, but a Soul Emperor level construct that had flight and defensive capabilities.

Shadow stood outside the tower with Elder Han at her side, who had likely been observing their sparring session intently with his divine sense and had instructed Shadow to wait. Yao Shen’s figure blurred, as he flew forward with the speed of a Mid-Nascent Soul Cultivator. Disciples were forbidden from flying within the Inner Sect premises, but as Patriarch such trivial restrictions did not apply to him.

A few moments later Yao Shen’s silhouette hovered over Elder Han and Shadow, his hands clasped behind his back as he gently drifted down, lightly landing in front of them. His divine sense had reverted to passive mode, and he detected Zhou Hui flying towards the tower at a modest speed— his intentions clearly to avoid him until they were before the Council of Elders.

His actions amused Yao Shen, but he did not further wish to disturb the Hui Family Patriarch’s equilibrium. He willed his divine sense into his storage ring and withdrew a small, circular token that was identical in size to the one he had given Shadow, but the similarities stopped there. Dense fractals that were barely visible to the naked eye covered the surface of the golden token, a small wisp of translucent light flickering at the center. He approached the thick, mottled set of double doors that were embedded into the tower’s structure, and a circular slit opened on the side.

Yao Shen walked forward and inserted the Master Control Token, one of three in existence, into the slit. The doors started rumbling, and then slowly creaked open— the sheer weight and density of the material felt through the vibrations of the soft earth beneath them, taking half a minute to completely open.

The House of Silveni was quite ingenious in their design of the Master Control Token, reminding Yao Shen that Planet Earth was not alone in their ingenuity. Three Master Control tokens existed at any given time, and the one in Yao Shen’s possession, much like the other two, was both soul-bound to him and managed to isolate a sliver of his divine sense without it losing integrity, the process a mystery to him.

That implied that if Yao Shen died, the insignificant part of his soul embedded into it would shatter the Master Control Token internally. If he was compromised, he could mentally order his divine sense to implode, and the token would crumple under the pressure instantly. And the moment it was destroyed, a new one could be formed by Silveni’s Heirloom almost instantaneously, resulting in an almost negligible risk of the construct falling into enemy hands.

The door finally opened, and they were greeted by four individuals dressed in unassuming gray robes, each one wearing a mask that bore a simple depiction of a spiritual beast’s outline. Their gloves and leggings covered almost every inch of their skin, and the mask’s eye slits periodically changed the color of their irises, the process seemingly random.

They were the Faceless, and they guarded that which could not be revealed, operated in lands the sect could not openly enter and bore the burden of the darkness so the Heavenly Sky Sect could shine in glory. Yao Shen’s memories from Earth had taught him much about the profundities of espionage, though his past self’s knowledge on the subject was rudimentary at best, it was still enough to bring him great surprise.

The Faceless though, were not a force to be underestimated. Their infiltration and espionage abilities may not match up to the 'three letter agencies' of Earth, but their true value lay in their anonymity. They had no face, no past and no expense was spared in their martial training— they could infiltrate a demonic sect that posed a threat to their sect claiming to be a rogue cultivator looking to convert to the demonic path, and they would trip no alarms.

“Patriarch Yao Shen, Elder Han. The Council awaits your presence,” the man, or woman, that had short black hair identical in length to his or her other three compatriots, spoke in a garbled voice that continuously oscillated in pitch and tone, an expensive artifact being used to achieve the effect.

Yao Shen felt a twinge of pity as he saw the young woman’s expressionless face behind the mask, the mask unable to shield her features from the divine sense of a Soul Emperor. The Faceless had existed long before his rule, and loathe as he was to admit it, their existence saved the lives of hundreds of cultivators, and thousands of mortals, if not more. He would see to it that arrangements were made to ensure better working conditions, but it was a pity there existed no equivalent of a ‘psychologist’ in the world of cultivation.

This was a matter that had many lives at stake, and thus it was not a decision that could be taken lightly. But he would ponder upon it, so for now he crushed whatever pity he felt with his resolve and spoke:

“Very well. Lead the way, sixty-eight,” Yao Shen gently commanded with a light smile on his face, but the woman and her companions instantly flinched beneath the surface of their masks. Their faces turned tense, but their regained composure remarkably quickly--- news traveled fast, and the Faceless that dealt in the world of classified information it was no surprise that they were aware of his ascension. Thus, he being able to see through their disguises was not entirely unexpected, but surprising nevertheless.

“Follow me,” The masked woman nodded, and turned around before Yao Shen’s gaze could linger upon her, but not quickly enough. Her lips twitched a few times before it morphed into a half-smile, exhaling a deep breath of air that she did not know she had been holding.

Perhaps Faceless Sixty Eight herself did not understand those emotions, but to Yao Shen, who had removed the limiter on his senses and switched to his ‘human sight’, it was more than obvious.

Her cover had been exposed, and even the artifact that could shield them from the prying of a Peak Nascent Soul cultivator did not manage to prevent the intrusion. Of course, it had no offensive or defensive capabilities, and a Nascent Soul cultivator could just rip the mask off their face and they would have no means to resist— but such a thing would be tantamount to a betrayal of the sect, and had never happened in the past hundreds of years.

She was ....... happy? Relieved even, for now there was someone could finally pierce the veil.

There was one person in the world who saw her for who she truly was, the true face inherited from her mortal mother and father whose faces she was too young to coherently recall.

For one who had been trained to become a ghost her entire life, she was seen.

That was enough.