Floating Island - Triple S Talent-Chapter 514: State of war

High above the distant horizon, three old men sat around a round table made of black stone, floating in the sky's highest reaches. The table was etched with ancient carvings, and atop it lay a massive, living map—red and blue dots scattered across it, glowing and shifting like stars dancing in the void.

"Someone's coming? Who is it?" asked the bald elder, his eyes narrowing in confusion. His tone carried not only surprise but a deep sense of concern. He glanced toward the two other elders seated with him, but both shook their heads slowly.

"No official notice from the Sect," said the black-haired elder with his hair neatly tied back. His gaze locked on the bright blue dot approaching their position. "But judging by the resonance of its light… most likely a fellow Elder."

All three nodded in agreement. In their system, only high-ranking Elders possessed such power. Each Elder was a sovereign beyond the King level—a figure whose presence could never be taken lightly.

"We should welcome him," said the third man, his voice deep and expression solemn. He stared at the blue light that now drew close. "An unexpected arrival without formal notice… there must be an important reason."

Without another word, the three of them rose and vanished instantly, merging with the wind and sky.

Elsewhere in the void of the universe, Lein stood at the edge of the warship's deck. His blue robe swayed gently in the interstellar breeze. A soft smile curved his lips.

"We finally made it," he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment. The journey had taken several hours through open space—tiring, though he didn't show it.

In times of war like this, using teleportation was considered reckless. It was only safe to teleport in fully secured zones. Even teleportation corridors could be hijacked by sovereigns at the King level, turning them into traps rather than tools. As a result, warships had become the primary means of travel—slow, but steady.

"Brother Lein… that huge island?" asked Efan from behind, his eyes wide in disbelief.

A vast island stretched out before them, seemingly endless. There was no protective dome, no camouflage mist. An open island standing tall amid the threat of war.

"Yes," Lein replied, glancing at him. "That's the outer fortress. Our main line of defense."

Efan swallowed hard, his gaze still fixed on the massive island. Its sheer size left him speechless—let alone the faint pressure of spiritual energy emanating from it, even from this distance.

"If you want to grow," Lein added lightly, "you'll need to get used to this place." He chuckled softly, though the seriousness beneath his laughter was impossible to miss.

Their ship crept forward, closing in on the island's edge. Moments later, three elder figures appeared midair, standing side by side like celestial gatekeepers. They welcomed Lein and his group with solemn respect, their faces calm but acknowledging.

"Let's go," Lein said, glancing back at Efan.

Without warning, elemental energy flowed from his body, wrapping around Efan like a soft mist and lifting him from the ship's deck. In the blink of an eye, Lein used a short-range teleportation—not through a formal corridor, but by using the element of dreams as his medium—and the two of them appeared above the defense island.

Landing lightly, Efan was stunned.

Though this was a war zone, the Invictus Sect's base looked like a thriving small city.

Several large buildings stood proudly across the defense island. The structures were designed not just for function, but also for beauty. Defense towers rose high on the eastern side, monitoring the skies and the spirit sea surrounding the island. Elsewhere, spiritual hospitals stood alongside energy warehouses and logistics hubs.

Each building was crafted from high-quality materials, showcasing the Invictus Sect's wealth and precision—even on the front lines.

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Lein and Efan emerged from thin air, landing gently on a stone path that led straight to the main headquarters. Their aura stirred the air like a calm but heavy tide. Standing before them were the three old men, their postures respectful. Their faces were aged by experience, yet their bodies remained upright, exuding battle-tested strength.

"Greetings, Elder. Welcome to Primary Fortress #8," the three said in unison, their voices deep and solid, filled with sincere respect.

Lein's pressure was unmistakable. Though he appeared far younger than the others, no one doubted he was an Elder—a figure standing at the peak of the Sect's spiritual power.

"Stand," Lein said simply, his tone relaxed, nearly informal.

The three elders immediately straightened up, gazing at Lein and Efan with curiosity. One of them, the bald man with sharp eyes, seemed as though he wanted to speak but hesitated.

"Forgive me, Elder. I don't mean to be rude, but…"

His words were cut short as Lein raised a hand, halting him with a subtle gesture.

"I'm Elder Lein, newly assigned here. And this is Efan, my companion." Lein pulled a token from beneath his robe—a violet-glowing Invictus Elder's Token—and fastened it to his waist.

The three old men nodded respectfully.

"Greetings to Brother Efan," said the bald elder warmly.

Their arrival—especially Lein's—brought a slight sense of relief. The first leaders stationed at the front lines almost always ended up as sacrifices. Most Elders sent here never returned. A newly arrived King-level sovereign was a rare beacon of hope.

Lein looked around. The stone path cut through a small garden adorned with crystal lanterns and spiritual statues. Not far ahead stood the main building, grand like a royal hall. Curved rooftops, walls of high-grade spirit stone, and even a small pond with peaceful ornaments gave it an almost tranquil air.

"You're living quite comfortably here," Lein remarked, raising a brow. His tone was light, but the meaning behind it was clear.

A subtle shift passed across the old men's faces. Their expressions tensed slightly, as though holding back an explanation. Lein's words could be taken as a jab—that they were more focused on beautifying the base than preparing for war.

Not wanting a misunderstanding to fester, the black-haired elder with the neat ponytail quickly spoke up.

"My apologies, Elder. At the moment, the Maledictus Sect has yet to launch any major assaults. They've only sent small groups of low-level soldiers. We remain on full alert, but there have been no significant clashes," he explained calmly and steadily.

He offered an objective report of the current state of the war.