2025-08-01 15:00:21
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The Man behind the Crown
ChAPTER 27 The Throne Hall was built to inspire awe. And fear. Thirty-seven steps led up to the dais, each engraved with a golden dragon curling toward the center. Atop that platform, behind a silk veil, the figure of the Crown Prince waited—half-lit, half-shrouded. Xuan Long stood at the base of the stairs, his shadow stretched like a blade across the floor. Neither man spoke. Not at first. Eyes Across a Divide “You still climb like a warrior,” Lu Shen said softly. “Not like a prince.” Xuan’s jaw flexed. “I climb like a man who remembers the fall.” Lu Shen didn’t smile, but something flickered across his face. Regret? Pity? Power? “You shouldn’t be here,” the Crown Prince said. “And yet,” Xuan said, “here I am.” Past That Still Bleeds A servant enter
Whisper under the throne
ChaPTER 26 The Imperial Capital was not a city. It was a machine. Wheels within wheels. Spires of jade and gold piercing the sky. Courtyards so silent you could hear secrets die in the corners. When Xuan Long entered through the East Gate, dressed in the scorched robes of a wandering cultivator, no one recognized him. Not yet. But the wind shifted. The walls murmured. Something had returned. Disguises and Smugglers The guards barely looked up as Xuan passed, dragging behind him a broken wagon covered in cloth. Mei Lin’s unconscious form was hidden beneath, tucked in crates filled with fake medicinal herbs. He’d bought the pass from a caravan smuggler—one glance at Xuan’s eyes had been enough for the man to drop his price and hand over the token in silence. Fear had its uses. But e
The Man who returned was not the same
CHAPTER 25 The wind didn’t feel the same. Xuan Long stepped out of the Temple of Forgotten Light carrying Mei Lin in his arms, but the mountains didn’t welcome him back. They recoiled. Clouds trembled. Birds scattered. Even the air grew still. He wasn’t just a cultivator now. He was something else. And the world could sense it. A World Shifted in His Absence They hadn’t been gone for long. Or so he thought. But when he descended the cliffside path toward the valley, something felt… off. The air was denser. The trees had bloomed out of season. And the flags that once marked the boundary of Bai Ren’s encampment were gone. Too quiet. No laughter. No guard rotations. Not even footprints in the soil. Xuan moved slower, hyper-aware of every leaf crunch beneath his feet. M
The temple that remembers
CHAPTER 24 The mountain air thinned as Xuan Long ascended. Each step forward peeled another layer from his memory—echoes clawing up from some forbidden chamber of his soul. The climb to the Temple of Forgotten Light was never meant to be physical. It was spiritual. Mental. A trial of truths buried and sealed. And now… He felt every secret pressing against his ribs. The fog thickened. The path narrowed. Somewhere behind him, Bai Ren’s voice was still screaming his name. But Xuan didn’t stop. The Temple Gates The gates didn’t open. They breathed. Stone twisted, vines recoiled, and two serpent statues that had once been mere carvings lifted their heads. “Blood of the Flame,” hissed one, voice scraping like metal on stone. “Son of the Reaper,” the other growled. Xuan stared
After the Shatter
CHAPTER 23 The world didn’t end with a scream. It ended with silence. Not the peaceful kind. The kind that crushes your ears because nothing is left. Xuan Long lay in the center of the wreckage, eyes barely open, ribs splintered. Ash clung to his skin. The last echoes of the battlefield still flickered across his vision like ghosts—blades flashing, fire devouring bodies, and Mei Lin’s scream before it all went black. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious. All he knew was pain. The kind that doesn’t pulse or throb anymore. It just… is. He turned his head slowly. Something cracked in his neck. Dust rained from his hair. His right arm twitched, hand grazing something soft. A ribbon. Red. Torn at the ends. Mei Lin’s. “No…” His voice rasped out like sand. “Mei Lin.” He tri
Flames of Betrayal, Wings of Reckoning
Chapter 22 “Some wars aren’t won by power. They’re survived by pain.” Xuan Long hit the battlefield like a meteor, Devourer Flame spiraling off him in violent arcs of red and silver. The moment his feet touched the twisted earth, the first wave of shadow-warriors came at him from all sides. They looked like people he had once loved. People who had once tried to kill him. His first mentor. His childhood friend. His own mother. But their eyes were hollow. Puppets. Not real. At least, that’s what he told himself as he drove a burning knee into the first one’s gut, twisted, and snapped the second’s neck with a spin-kick that scorched the air. “They’re not real,” he growled to himself. “They’re not real…” But it didn’t stop the ache. Didn’t stop the way the air felt like grief every time he stru
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