Veritable Princes shall arise. Upon hearing the news, the steward collapsed in shock—pale-faced with no hint of vitality remaining, his frame shaking, teeth clattering in fear. Terror overwhelmed him; a full inspection could wipe out everyone associated. In no time, he foresaw heads rolling endlessly, raining down in swathes. Fury of a Prince spills rivers crimson, corpses stretch across tens of thousands of li. Not another soul could stop what’s coming! He had no escape route anywhere under this sky, not even a speck of earth where he could hide. Rain Meng himself trembled in anxiety, pacing endlessly. His mind gripped by sheer panic—realizing now how large the affair had swollen was way beyond his containment ability. That ancestral ground belonged to the Shi Clan, sacred and inviolable.
“It wasn’t me,” repeated the steward hollowly, eyes dulled lifeless, no longer a leader among men. “This cannot be happening…”
“Roll away!” screamed Rain Meng furiously; with an explosive kick, the steward shrieked in agony, spit forth great clots of crimson, and flew headlong across stony landscaping—finally crashing amidst a pile of decorative rocks. With a mighty boom, the fake hill crammed over him, a thick plume of dust bursting free. Rain Meng normally wore a pallid face without beard nor stern glare typical of power—but within those eyes now glimmered a savage gleam. Desperate to murder the steward several times over but still restraining, since slaughtering him would gain nothing against sheer magnitude of Shi might.
Suddenly he shuddered—an icy dread swept him: Could his clan’s elders already contemplate a similar move, wiping him too from existence? After all, he had stirred a calamity so grand, unforgivable transgressions laid bare. Back in the Western Frontier, deep within a massive city, several mighty figures summoned rare, archaic treasures of ancestral bones. These glyphs flaring illuminated and transformed an archaic little altar. A single letter rested on its surface, shimmered briefly… vanishing from sight in the blink of an eye.
Simultaneously, inside the imperial heart of the Shi Empire—in their sacred seat—several ancient inherited treasures of bones ignited with radiance and conjured a much greater sacrificial structure. A mist of fortune shone across its stone plinth where another sealed letter had materialized.
“WHAT! Destroying the second ancestral home—turning it completely to ashes—what daring indeed!” a revered clan elder read and raged. A sovereign stretching over endless territories in full glory—its stability ruptured this unfathomable blow!“Forward those letters out,” he shouted. Multiple copies were taken—though the original belonged in the Sovereign Ruler’s hands—all dispatched forthwith toward every major Princely line. For a grievance like this dared to mock the Shi Clan’s supremacy.
Thus dawn came for the capital, exploding like shattering glass—ripples spreading far and wide—an uproar shaking all. Then, silence—utter stillness—as thousands debated, doubting this reality before comprehending.
Whose recklessness dared provoke such fate? With Rulers at their peak, blessed hands of cosmic might, how had someone dare reduce hallowed lands of Shi ascendancy?
“Perhaps a foe old as the ages, perhaps one sworn against us?” others asked. “Wouldn’t they target life itself, sparing none?”
“Might it be some ancient bloodlines like the Tyrant Roc or Water Serpent lineage who still nourish hatred towards Shi?” rumors whispered. In no time at all, word spread citywards—all mouths agape—this event too improbable. From aristocratic halls to alleyways—buzzing never waned.
“Find the source—ENDLESS PURSUIT” commanded the Emperor, scrawled with four mighty strokes. As the command spread its light upon all realms—those words radiated a towering glow across the capital, shattering even the clouds above into pieces. Flared a golden wrath like forked lightning in wrathful cry. Oppressive and absolute quiet followed. The city cowered in its shadows at last.
And after what felt eons had slipped away, the capital gradually reawakened. At the most ancient shrines in sacred grounds of Shi, sacrifices poured freely while primeval divine gifts awakened slumbering altars—one moment silence. A low hum grew louder, as something primordial exhaled, exuding dreadful waves, then opening a channel of pure gold!
“March forth!” commanded a masterful Patriarch. In stepped legion upon legion of dread-bound warriors—resplendent in battle plate mail—each wielding iron halberds or spears crackling with martial spirit so great—it split skies afar. Eventually three Princes arrived—bodies aflared like tri-solar fire—each pulse thundering shockwaves across worlds—who then marched straightway through the blazing way forward together.
This quest summoned no fewer than three Princes—tasked with seeking and destroying whomever defied Shi blood and legacy! Only upon the quietening did elders bow reverently beneath swirling chaos mists. There before them arose something resembling primordial deities, silently accepting their salutations. Indeed—truly empty beyond!
The Wu Royal Household trembled with shock as elders gathered. The ruined manor was far too delicate—possibly involving their own clan’s men.
“Where’s Yi? Could his retinue have carried this madness upon Shi?” demanded old master Huang Jin—the Fourth.
“Ill-conceived, but Yi is still but a youth—one clever, composed. Impossible for such idiocy to erupt under he—he must have enemies scheming,” assured another elder.
Back westward—rumors surfaced: initial suspicion cast arson to some feud among a Shi noble family. The tale roared again in royal capital. A chorus of alarm arose. Who but suicidal wretches dared commit crime beyond forgiveness—yearning for entire lineage’s annihilation? Likely some prince scion unaware of cosmic law—wreckless wandering beyond—what shame their entire dynasty bore! Great families across hushed in terror at thought their own descendants might’ve triggered fate’s blade upon them.
“Oh… news from MENG! Though no hand from RAIN set torch aflame—we know subterfague West cannot elude scrutiny; the Royal bloodline will erupt again,” lamented elder of the rainclad lineage—never foreseeing catastrophe of such scale upon themselves.
“Broather, too soft! Whether through deed or oversight—young men dared burn royal soil. Could such have escalated only through provokable servants?” another spoke.
“YIELD Western profit wholly away—sacrifice those involved utterly, and retain MENG above all else! Let him perish? Yet so much invested blood-sweated there! Must we discard such might recklessly?” a faction objected vehemently. “No—blamemongering will spare all! Probably that renegade’s hand which ignited all—sought framing blame on us all! We must press our own narrative. Alert MENG to fix this! If we must accuse—pin all fault squarely over Stone-Ziling!” thus clansfolk plotted together.
In days, scouts and hunters prowled, wolfen keen eyes scoured Western lands—by morning, suspects uncovered and the steward dragged away! Interrogation unearthed tangled, hidden deeds: no proof of arson, yes. Yet still he remained a culprit, inciting the fire through his own treasonable alliance with ancestral estate lackeys! By night’s end—the blade’s cold justice fell! All colluding servants met steel—head rolling amidst crimson streams in the fields that night. Soon after confession, the steward was publicly mutilated. Relatives locked in dungeons; spared only due to his failing self-suicide—an exception they’d likely rue.
Two days hence—Rain Meng shackled and brought forth to the capital—the moment he pleaded, a general smote his jaw directly with the horse-whip—one spatter gash torn there and he howled blood midair! Previously dominant in his station—here, the underlings of MIGHTY Loyal retinue overruled all! Nausea swarmed his mind before arriving into massive stone palace hall—he glanced into radiant blaze: three blazing Suns throned above thundering waves of Divine glyphs, blinding—unseeable visages.
Those eyes… he understood—the real Royal Princes overseeing billion lives! Supreme among humanity next to divine Sovereign—so powerful as to shake even gods. These three solar entities projected sacred glyphs outward endlessly, each letter carving reality as though smelting heavens and hells together.
Above the three, only eyes remained vivid—brimming with symbols of cosmic origin and celestial birth, star-chaos swirling, like watching creation unfold anew!
“They did it… Stone-ZiLing set this aflame!” blurted Meng upon entry—an order relayed from lineage elders—to deflect any blame.
“FALSE SPEECH! SILENCE!” bellowed a prince, and his gaze spewed glyphs of dread which made the entire floor shudder!
Forward strode a guardian with keen blade—chopping swiftly down.
“PRINCE MERCY,” Meng cried to no avail! His plea met in thunderous silence—as another strike swept his right arm away—pain exploding through him—he could hardly think. Never ever… that he lived such ignominy—he from a distinguished Rain House family. How could someone dare treat him so low, so cheaply cast?
“I AM of the House Rain,” he rasped. “My life carries value. Think first…”
Silence returned… then cold finality. “Strike once more.”
Boom—a golden glint cleaved forth—and his second arm fell beside. Shrieks tore free his voice in agony—he nearly collapsed in disbelief at his mutilation, but kept a final flicker of rage inside. He yearned to shout—YOU, WHOEVER YOU ARE, KNOW WHO SENT ME, DO YOU WANT ALL OUR HOUSEWORLDS COLLAPSING OVER THIS!?! Still… he refrained—fearing a darker retribution should he speak aloud. Sudden chill ran him cold once more… could MURDER extend across my family!? Is that why—no restraint!?! Could my death mark their way in crushing Rain entirely!?! Horror seized him now like ice from some ancient abyss.
“SPEAK now! Leave out no falsehood.” The voice above commanded. Rain Meng stilled himself—pain seethed, glyphs stitched severed stumps, trying—half-truth—half-fantasy.
“I hear no excuses.” The Prince flicked a digit—waves upon waves of cosmic silver rushed—erupting with dual implosions in his legs! BOOM—crunching into oblivion with two sickening crunches. The man flew outward—blasting across hall walls, screaming as sanity nearly snapped. Never could he believe this—princes mercilessly executing beyond reason and protocol! No chance to plead, no chance to survive. They could snuff him out at whim—it made him dizzy—his knees wobbling beneath despair and nausea.
And so—despite agony and terror—he surrendered the full truth!
“Carry him off—cut the head and bring me its trophy!”
“You possess none rights!” Meng rased voice now desperate, casting all dignity to flame and howling with fury.
“Yet, I, A PRINCE… I, possess them in abundance!” returned those words laced icy and mighty, radiating through every pillar until swallowing all structure into light. Such thunder made Rain Meng reel back into helplessness beyond reckoning, spine melting under despair. Two dread war-guests marched over. They grabbed the shattered limbless wretch up by the shoulders and hauled like common refuse right back—unyielding.
His final breath came with scream:
“They can’t execute me without returning me to family and evidence—without judgment, is this not tyranny?!! Do they seek revolt?”
“The Imperial Will commands these eyes. None but the Will dare challenge!” thundered an elder within that great hall once.
As he neared final heartbeat… a last revelation pierced his fading soul—an inkling realization over one seated here above. His mind flickerd—it must be “Battle-King” famed to champion rising star Zi-Ling. A name that sent chills running through even Rain. Yet what purpose mattered now? He’d waited too long for clarity… as steel cleaver found his neck—final sight, rising arc. With thunderous crack, life faded—Rain MENG, dead West in capital! News raced back to inner realm again—a humiliating slap for the entire Rain Bloodline!
And upon the name—“Battle-King”—known by everyone—understood his lack of restraint.
Within the city walls—the Battle-King sheathed his glimmering will and kept a steady composure, eyes dim once again. Nearby, another Prince turned in thought:
“Minds must be kept on the Wu House as well—though nothing yet seen. Possibly they too bear involvement…”
“Rain and that royal House intermarry—it cannot but hint deeper shadows.”
True. We shall not delay… warn them.” Thus spoke the dread figure— Battle King. Wu House had birthed its own rising star: Shi Yi, born in celestial fire—a scion with the charisma of a rising sun, shaking lands all afar and afar—equal among the offspring of every royal prince across dominions. They shared rivalry: heirs destined to ascend toward that ultimate throne! Given such a moment—their fate could not but collide. Rain house protested wildly to imperial rule with rage; entire western vassal forces had been annihilated—their elite slain too within that crimson tide they’d never imagined! Meanwhile—traces linking Wu manor surfaced—forcing them ever backward into scrutiny again, until at last… Emperor intervened. Many paid tribute in blood, others their lives, all to settle these roiling waves…
While for now… far off—a diminutive hero named “Tiny” with comrade “Clear Air,” journey deep into wilds unknown. The Hai father and son had already parted from them along their wandering road…
“The baby leopard milk is the tastiest! Try this—deliciouss.” said Tiny, his cheeks smeared, soiled—his shining eyes like twin orbs amidst blood-smeared face after countless monster clashes across mountains.
“I am already SEVEN,” grumbled a bashful Qing Feng.
“I don’t want… milk…”
“No problem~ nobody here,” encouraged Tiny as he drank joyfully from bamboo cup.
Really?
“Cross my heart.”
Another set of mountains away—the Hai clan still watched the world’s pulse unfold, hearts unable to remain calm, emotions rising.
“That child possesses a gift rare and brilliant!” remarked Hai elder.
“One day, you and I shall hear all lands echoing only his renown.” agreed the ancient grandfather.
Beside them—an inky tiger growled.
“HUUUNNGGHH!!!”
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