The skie above the capital of the Azure Dominion had never looked darker. Ominous clouds brewed above the palace, swirling as if echoing the unrest growing within its ancient stone halls. Deep within the imperial court, where golden pillars reached toward the heavens and jade floors reflected the flickering lanterns, silence reigned.
That silence was broken.
Clang!
The double doors burst open as Xuanyuan Wuchen strode inside, blood still drying on his armor, the severed arm of a demonic general hanging from his belt like a grim trophy.
"You're late," said the High Minister, standing beside the Empress Dowager. His voice trembled slightly, betraying the fear he failed to mask. "You were not given leave to wage war on the Crimson Steppes."
"I was given leave by the heavens," Wuchen replied coldly, each word laced with the weight of divinity. His gaze swept across the gathered council members—nobles, generals, and serpents in fine robes—each one now avoiding his eyes.
The Empress Dowager stepped forward. She was old, yet regal, her presence commanding even the immortal prince's respect. "You are not emperor yet. Do not forget your place."
"I haven't," Wuchen replied. "But the heavens remember mine—former Immortal Emperor, bearer of fate's curse, and breaker of this false dynasty's spine."
Gasps filled the hall.
"You dare speak treason?" hissed a general.
Wuchen's lips curled into a smirk. "Treason is when you betray the throne. I am the throne. I merely returned to reclaim what was mine… taken by deceit and sealed by cowards."
Suddenly, the air grew heavy. A dark pressure radiated from Wuchen as his cultivation flared. His qi, once sealed in his first life, now bloomed like a vengeful storm. The nobles fell to their knees, some bleeding from the nose, others outright fainting.
"I have no interest in your politics," Wuchen continued, his voice like thunder. "But I will tear down every lie, every mask, until the truth is naked for all to see."
From the shadows, a figure emerged. Cloaked in gray, with a blade so thin it seemed made of moonlight.
"About time," Wuchen said without looking. "I was wondering when the real threats would appear."
"You should not have returned, Immortal One," the assassin whispered. "Your second life will end before it begins."
"And yet here I stand. Again," Wuchen replied—and vanished.
Clash!
Steel met steel. Sparks danced like fireflies as the two figures moved faster than sight. Every blow shook the pillars. Every counter was poetry of war. The court scrambled for cover, their fragile lives no more than leaves in a typhoon.
Then—silence.
The assassin dropped, mask shattered, his throat sliced open by Wuchen's blade.
But Wuchen did not look victorious.
He looked… disappointed.
"That wasn't him," he muttered.
The Empress Dowager, breathing heavily, finally spoke, "You're not here just to reclaim your title. What do you seek, Xuanyuan Wuchen?"
He turned toward her, eyes no longer just cold—but burning with something far deeper.
"I seek the truth of my death," he said quietly. "The names behind the betrayal. The one who cursed me. And when I find them—"
He lifted his blade.
"I will show the heavens that not even fate can chain me."
---
To be continued…
End of chapter 30