章 1: CHAPTER (01)
==================================
Cultivation levels: Qi Condensing Realm, Foundation Establishment Realm, Profound Gold Core Realm, Nascent Soul Realm, Soul Formation Realm, Spirit Severing Realm, Divine Transformation Realm, Void Refinement Realm, Body Integration Realm, Saint Realm, Saint King Realm, Sage Realm, Emperor Realm, Great Ascension Realm, Immortal Ascension Realm, and True Immortal Realm
=====================================
CHAPTER - (01)
---
[ House of duke Long Chen ]
[ Sun City, Scorching Sun Dukedom ]
---
It was the month of July, and today House Long experienced an auspicious blessing of rain.
The grand castle, drenched and glistening, stood tall and imposing, its stone walls resilient against the downpour.
At its highest peak, a blue flag with a white dragon emblem fluttered proudly in the wind, the fabric snapping with each gust as if the dragon itself roared against the stormy skies.
At the rear of the castle, thick clouds blanketed the training ground.
Cultivators, soaked but undeterred, honed their martial skills with fierce determination, their movements cutting through the rain-soaked ground as water streamed from the rooftops of the traditional Chinese-style castle, the sound of raindrops creating a rhythmic drumming.
Near the arena, on a high platform, a man in a red and black robe adjusted his mustache with practiced precision. Beside him, another man held an umbrella, his hands trembling from the cold and his body drenched like a plant by the riverside. Despite being soaked through, he dared not speak, perfectly holding the umbrella for the man with the mustache.
The man beneath the umbrella, Lao Meng, lit his cigar with a flick of his fingers, the tip flaring brightly and casting a brief glow in the dim, rainy light.
He had once been the commander of the elite castle guard, but now he was the stern trainer of cultivators below the Golden Core level.
Lao Meng, a majestic Nascent Soul peak-level cultivator, exuded a commanding presence that inspired both respect and fear wherever he went.
"Damn it, what's wrong with you all? Is the rain making you slow? Tighten your focus and fight with ferocity! The weather won't be a concern for your enemies!" Lao Meng roared, his voice cutting through the storm.
The cultivators, clad in flowing black robes and sturdy boots, responded in unison, their voices merging with the sound of the rain,
"YES SIR!"
They raised their swords high, channeling their qi through the relentless downpour.
The air crackled with energy as flames flickered and danced on some blades, while others only emitted wisps of smoke.
Disheartenment swept over a few trainees as they faced their failures.
Most were Qi Condensation cultivators with unremarkable physiques and mediocre spiritual roots, struggling to excel under such harsh conditions.
Meanwhile, On the sidelines, two teenage boys sat on a bench.
One was Su Liang, a commoner from Sun City, his left leg wrapped in bandages after his sparring partner had accidentally plunged a sword into it.
"I don't know how many weeks I have to wait for this to heal. How much longer are you going to stay here, Zhu Qing? I want to become a cultivator of the Golden Core fourth layer as soon as possible and leave this city. Zhu Qing, hey, Zhu Qing!" he blurted out non-stop, his frustration evident in his voice.
The boy in question was noble. Zhu Qing, the son of Count Zhu Tian, sat beside him, seemingly lost in thought. His blue eyes were focused on the ripples forming in the puddles from the falling rain.
Zhu Qing's grey hair, already soaked, clung to his pale face, the water droplets running down like tears mingling with the rain.
Suddenly, a smile crept across Zhu Qing's face. The water around them began to ripple more intensely. Within moments, it rose like a wave, swirling around them in a mesmerizing dance before forming into the shape of a dragon, its head roaring above them before collapsing and drenching the ground even further.
Su Liang stared in amazement. "Wohoo! Boy... You don't even need training. Your control over qi is so precise. I wish mine was half as good as yours," he said, his voice tinged with both awe and envy.
Zhu Qing shrugged modestly. "It's nothing special. And when we meet Master Shao Hai, your leg might be healed in days. Don't worry too much," he said, his voice calm yet filled with underlying concern for his friend.
Zhu Qing possessed a Heaven-grade spiritual root, and for water art cultivation, he was further blessed with the Heavenly Torrent Physique, a divine-grade body. Coupled with his father being a Soul Formation hydro cultivator, it was the icing on the cake.
This combination made mastering such techniques much easier for him.
Su Liang shook his head, still in awe. "Oh..that ..I'm not just worried about my leg, brother Qing ....but Once the war is over, are you going back to Northern Mystic Sea region? You know you are the only friend I've ever made," he said, his voice dropping to a more somber tone.
Zhu Qing's gaze softened as he looked at Liang, a silent understanding passing between them.
He, too, was no stranger to loneliness.
One harrowing day, their county fell under siege by a merciless army of demonic Cultivatiors in soul formation realm.
In the midst of the chaos, he witnessed the ultimate cruelty of life—his mother dying before his very eyes. Her screams echoed in his mind, the sight of her lifeless body seared into his memory.
From that moment on, his world was drenched in blood and war.
Count Zhu Tian's forces clashed desperately with the invaders, and in the turmoil, Zhu Qing was whisked away to House Long of Sun City, the ruling family of the Scorching Sun Dukedom, whom his father had served for decades.
It was meant to be a refuge, but the memories of that brutal day haunted him endlessly.
"I don't know," Zhu Qing said quietly, his voice barely audible over the rain. "But I miss my home, the beauty of Mystic sea. It's incomparable."
Liang remained silent and gently patted Zhu Qing's shoulder. He didn't want anything bad to happen to Zhu Qing.
"Brother, Zhu Qing, you don't have to worry," Liang said reassuringly, his voice filled with a warmth that contrasted the cold rain. "The Duke himself has vowed to help your father. Besides, fire is the cultists' natural enemy. It's clear that you will win this war."
Before Zhu Qing could reply, Lao Meng descended from the platform, his stern gaze fixed on Zhu Qing.
The surrounding cultivators fell silent, watching their trainer approach the two boys.
"Zhu Qing, boy, you've got quite the interesting control
over your attribute," Lao Meng called out, his voice carrying authority and a hint of intrigue.
Two months ago, when Zhu Qing first arrived with his innocent smile and delicate features, many doubted his potential as a warrior.
Yet, witnessing his skills now, Lao Meng couldn't help but praise him inwardly. The boy's prowess was on par with the eldest miss of House Long.
Hearing his name, Zhu Qing stood up, slightly curious. "Yes, Master Meng?" he responded respectfully, understanding the importance of etiquette for a noble guest.
"I saw what you did with the water just now. Impressive control for someone your age. At sixteen, you've already reached the Golden Core fourth layer. If only you were born into our Long household," Lao Meng remarked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed the young noble.
Zhu Qing nodded, a modest smile on his lips. "Thank you, Master. My father has trained me well," he replied, his voice steady and respectful.
Lao Meng grunted in acknowledgment.
"Ah, that guy... Hydro cultivator or not, it takes innate talent to manipulate water like that under these conditions. Keep honing that skill, and you'll surpass many of these cultivators in no time. What can I say? They are a bunch of trash compared to you," Lao Meng said, his voice carrying a mix of praise and criticism.
The surrounding cultivators, though respectful, couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment. Here was a boy much younger than them, receiving praise from their role model Lao Meng, while they struggled with their own training.
"But remember," Lao Meng continued, his tone serious and commanding, "cultivation alone won't win battles. You must balance it with physical prowess and tactical knowledge. Relying too much on one strength can become a weakness. How about you train with us from tomorrow?"
There was a strange gleam in Lao Meng's eyes, the same kind a jeweler has when crafting an intricate piece.
Zhu Qing absorbed the advice, nodding earnestly.
"I... I may not be able to... I was... Master..."
Zhu Qing hesitated, his words faltering as he considered the demanding training regimen.
"Hahaha! You're making me sound like a big, bad old man. Alright, if you don't want to, then so be it. But remember, physical fitness is as important as cultivation prowess," Lao Meng said, a touch of embarrassment in his voice.
"Thank you, master," Zhu Qing replied. Afterwards, Lao Meng resumed his tirade, barking orders and reprimanding the amateur cultivators.
"Wow... You even impressed the old man. I'm really getting more and more concerned about myself," Liang said, half-jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.
Zhu Qing didn't reply, his attention shifting to an unusual phenomenon. The ground shook and trembled enthusiastically, signaling the return of the Dukedom's army.
The massive force of 40,000 soldiers marched in perfect sync, their presence a testament to House Long's might. The rhythmic thud of their footsteps resonated through the air, a symphony of power and precision.
Hastily...
Zhu Qing stood up, his emotional state alarming his friend, Liang, who urged him to stop. But Zhu Qing ignored him, his heart racing with a mix of fear and hope.
"Zhu Qing, wait! Where are you going?" Liang called out, worry etched on his face, his voice barely audible over the pounding rain.
Leaping forward, Zhu Qing quickly reached the stairs that led to the highest watchtower of the castle. His heart pounded with each step, his mind racing with fear and hope.
"Hey, slow down! You'll hurt yourself!" a concerned soldier called out.
But Zhu Qing didn't spare him a glance and kept running until he reached the top.
From there, he could see the black-clad army marching through the streets of Sun City, heading towards the castle.
"Father!" he gasped, breathless.
But his eyes couldn't find the man he longed to see.
His palms were sweating despite the rain, and his eyes were red, though it was hard to tell if it was from tears or exhaustion.
He clenched his teeth in fear.
Soldiers passed through the crowd, even the Duke himself entered the castle, but his father, Count Zhu, was nowhere to be seen.
A terrible sense of crisis filled his heart.
Just then, a voice broke the silence.
"Master Zhu Qing, his highness Lord Duke requests your presence," said a maid of the household, who had served the duke for decades.
"Lead the way," Zhu Qing replied, his voice heavy with despair.
---
To Be Continued...
週次パワーステータス
-- 推薦
ランキング 
-- 推薦
チケット