Jinn BLADE-Chapter 132 | Taking Root

The sound of whispers filled the entire hall like a low, buzzing hum that never quite faded.

The room, grand and high-ceilinged, was dimly lit except for the glowing screens and data pads that illuminated the long table at its center.

Seated at the farthest end of the hall was the princess, Akavi, her posture loose and her face resting against a clenched fist, her elbow propped up lazily on the armrest of her intricately carved seat.

The golden threads in her gown shimmered faintly in the flickering light, but her expression said one thing: boredom.

The table in front of her stretched wide, cluttered with various viewing devices—glass tablets, crystal screens, and flickering holos, each one active and displaying different images and numbers. But none of it seemed to catch her interest.

"It has been days already," one individual finally said, his voice cutting through the muttering.

He tapped rapidly at his device, frustration lining his voice.

"What happened to the rest of the slaves—more importantly, what happened to that boy?"

Another man beside him leaned forward, eyes scanning data feeds.

"He must have already died... the corrupted monstrosities had invaded the planet. No one could’ve survived that."

"But how did the other slaves manage to return?" came another voice from across the long table, this time from a woman dressed in official robes.

Her question triggered another wave of murmurs across the delegates and nobles seated around.

Fingers danced on screens, symbols were shifted, and logs pulled up as everyone busied themselves with trying to find an answer they didn’t have.

Through it all, Akavi remained silent.

She sighed, the sound long and tired, as her gaze lazily wandered across the gathered individuals.

The weight of their voices, their theories, and their endless speculations meant little to her now.

All of it—every word, every flickering screen—was just noise.

It was as if this meeting, this so-called inquiry, was dragging on longer than it needed to.

Yet just before her boredom could take over completely, a shadow leaned close beside her, disrupting her trance.

A soft voice whispered into her ear, low and sharp enough that it cut through the sea of meaningless murmurs surrounding her.

Akavi’s gaze shifted to the side without moving her head, her golden eyes glancing at the figure beside her.

It was her personal guard.

The tall, armored figure leaned back as soon as the whisper was delivered.

Akavi didn’t reply, she didn’t need to.

Instead, she slowly rose from her seat with a grace that made the entire room pause for a split second.

Her movements were calm, almost lazy—but there was a weight in them, a silent command that needed no words.

The hem of her dark, silken dress trailed softly behind her as she walked, flowing like a shadow on polished marble floors.

Her personal guard followed just a few steps behind, his armored boots clinking with each careful step, keeping perfect distance as if practiced a thousand times.

The whispers around the table quieted briefly as heads turned to watch her leave, though none dared to call out or question her.

She walked down the corridor, her pace unchanging, until she turned at the far end and entered a narrower hallway—one leading to her personal chambers.

Once she reached the door, she paused only slightly.

"Don’t let anyone in, Djerin," she said in a flat tone, tilting her head just barely toward the man behind her.

"As you command," the guard replied instantly, stepping back into position as he reached for the ornate door handle.

The door closed with a long creak followed by a deep, resounding

*thud!

a sound that echoed through the quiet hall like a seal being set.

Akavi was alone now.

Akavi then continued to walk deeper into the room, her steps slow and composed, until she reached the farthest end where a plain, unassuming wall stood.

But it wasn’t just a mere wall.

She raised her hand calmly, her fingers twitching slightly as she summoned her eidra.

A stream of dark, almost glass-like energy flowed from her palm, transparent but with a subtle violet shimmer pulsing faintly through it.

The moment her eidra touched the wall, a glowing sigil emerged from its surface—etched with ancient lines and symbols, now illuminated with a soft violet light.

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The sigil hummed quietly, its edges rippling like water as the wall began to flicker and vanish.

What stood behind the illusion was a narrow, spiraling staircase made of dark stone, winding downwards into the unknown.

Akavi didn’t hesitate.

She stepped forward and began her descent, her footsteps echoing faintly against the stone as she made her way down, each step taking her further away from the royal chambers and deeper into secrecy.

The stairway seemed to stretch longer than it should have, but eventually she arrived.

The hidden chamber below was alive with movement.

A secret base—dimly lit and filled with activity.

Several figures, all cloaked in long, shadowy robes, were moving about the place.

Some were hunched over desks covered in scrolls and old parchments.

Others were working on strange devices with flickering lights and pulsing cores.

A few were carrying large, metal containers sealed with heavy latches, their surfaces marked with warning sigils.

Akavi’s eyes narrowed, her presence alone shifting the room into a quieter hum.

One dark-cloaked individual stepped forward from the shadows just as the princess arrived at the base of the chamber.

The figure’s movement was graceful, careful not to disturb the busy silence around them.

As the individual came closer, the faint light revealed a golden-colored mask—polished and reflective—hiding all features beneath its smooth surface.

Only the eyes glinted faintly through narrow slits.

"My grace, you have blessed us with your presence," the masked figure said, bowing slightly with one hand over their chest in respect.

"What brings you here?" the voice was distorted slightly, softened by the mask, yet reverent.

"Begin the first phase," she said without hesitation, her voice low but firm.

"I have finally found my candidate... the one who will ascend us all."

Her words echoed through the chamber like a whisper cutting through fog.

The masked figure paused, seemingly stunned, though their expression was unreadable behind the gold.

"The first phase, my lady?" the figure asked, unsure, cautious.

"But what makes this certain candidate worthy—"

"He has the Muradryn," Akavi interrupted, her voice firmer, her tone sharp enough to cut through doubt.

Silence followed.

For a moment, no one moved.

The masked figure stood completely still, as if trying to process the weight of what had just been said.

Then, slowly, the figure bowed lower.

"As you command, my lady," the voice answered, this time with no trace of doubt.

"We shall begin the first phase... the first step of your dominion shall now take root."

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