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In the Fairy Realm, Gao Yize set his heart on protecting his home, a place that thrived in beauty and wonder.

In this realm, at night, the forests gave a soft glow under the moonlight. By day, rainbows arched across the sky, lighting up gardens and clear rivers. The sky a sapphire blue, the forest a rich green, and the flowers a deep purple as butterflies left brief trails of shimmering light.

And with fear of the Demon King now jeopardizing this realm, Yize sprinted to Lord Muchen's palace, approaching the throne room as his long silver hair swayed in the breeze.

The massive doors swung open, revealing Muchen seated on his throne. Yize took a deep breath and met his lord's piercing gaze as his finger tapped the armrest.

"Why have you come, Yize?" Muchen questioned in a composed tone.

"My Lord, a spy in Astara has provided crucial information. Feng Deming plans to battle an entire Western Astaran army by himself."

A flash of surprise crossed Muchen's eyes, but he concealed it with a faint smile. "How amusing... Determine the outcome and report back to me immediately." Catching Yize's hesitation and averted gaze, he pressed, "Speak. Is there anything else I need to be made aware of?"

Yize's brows twisted. "Feng Deming is immortal." Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, but Muchen's silence caused his muscles to tense. 'Why is he... not surprised?'

"I see. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. You may leave now."

Yize stood frozen, his mind reeling. "Yes... as you wish." He turned away, his footsteps carrying the lingering doubt that occupied his mind.

Striding out of the throne room, Yize found a secluded spot in the gardens. The palace entrance stood under the midday sun, throwing long shadows across the stone pathway.

He leaned against a tree in solitude, glancing at the glowing flowers with his vibrant blue eyes. 'Muchen... I was not yet of age to serve him when Feng Deming was imprisoned... but I can't fathom...'

As he pondered, a memory of Deming's bitter accusation resurfaced: "Just as you did all these years, watching me suffer."

'What did Lord Muchen do to him?' Doubt and suspicion entangled his mind, yet he could not shake the memory of blood on the dungeon walls. 'Did he truly suffer?'

"How amusing... I suppose it is your lucky day," Deming's voice echoed in his memory.

"How amusing... Determine the outcome and report back to me immediately," Lord Muchen's words came back to him.

Yize's expression darkened. His breathing quickened, his chest tightening as he replayed the phrase. "How amusing...?" Swallowing the lump in his throat, he stared at the grand entrance to the palace, a glare forming in his eyes.

~*~

He stood there, his fair hands stained with cold blood, wielding his longsword. A golden crown with swirls on the sides adorned his head, curling around the back of his ears and keeping his long hair tidy and away from his face. Drops of scarlet liquid dripped from his blade, trickling down to the tip.

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"This fool came here asking for his demise," Deming sneered, giving a dismissive wave of his hand, his eyes lingering on the lifeless body lying before him.

Draped in white garments that had almost lost their original color, the man had his eyes closed. Blood soaked his long hair, once silky, now a tangled mess.

After a moment of silence, his thunderous voice echoed, "Zixin!"

Dark smoke twisted and churned, forming an onyx vortex. As the haze began to clear, a young man with well-defined features emerged, stepping into a shadow that shimmered with an ethereal darkness. His chiseled jawline and high cheekbones created a striking silhouette against the dark backdrop. His eyes mirrored the darkness of the night, absorbing the surrounding light. Flowing black attire, resembling a robe, reached to his feet. Long, black hair framed his face, styled with lengthy bangs that fell to the sides and tied back in a loose, low ponytail.

He bowed before the Astaran Supreme. "Yes, my Lord!"

The grand hall echoed with his voice, the faint rustle of Zixin's movements, and the distant whispers of the darkened space.

Deming's gaze bore into Zixin from above, his lips curling into a tight, dismissive smirk. With a slow, deliberate movement, he lifted his chin, his posture rigid as he commanded in a disdainful tone, "Rise."

"Yes." Zixin rose with grace, facing Deming but casting a sidelong glance at the fallen man before them. "Is that a...?"

"Indeed, a fairy. This is the third spy Muchen has sent this week." With a piercing stare, Deming spoke in an imperious manner, "Prepare for the war council."

Zixin nodded, eyes flickering with stern calculation as he took in the scene. "And what shall be done with him?"

Deming's smirk widened into a cold, predatory grin. "Dispose of him. Make sure it's done discreetly," he paused, his impassive eyes landing on the body, his lips twisting in disgust before continuing, "and not on our soil."

With a final, respectful bow, Zixin turned on his heel and neared the fallen man. The dark smoke that had once heralded his arrival began to swirl around him again, concealing his movements. As he approached the body, the shadows closed in, wrapping around the body.

~*~

Yize's footsteps echoed off the cold stone walls in the dim dungeons beneath the grand palace. The heavy scent of dampness and decay filled the air, and flickering energy balls cast long, eerie shadows across the corridors. His heart pounded as he stopped at a damaged iron door, its surface rusted and worn.

"It's here... This was Feng Deming's cell," he murmured.

Hesitating for a moment, he pushed it open with a creak. Darkness filled the large cell inside, but his keen eyes adjusted. Remnants of glyphs surrounded the center of the cell, scattered on the floor and glinting in the faint light.

Flashes of that dreadful day barged into his mind. The sight of Feng Deming deciphering the twenty seals and breaking those powerful chains, his golden eyes glowing red before he blew up most parts of the dungeon, haunted him to this day.

Yize scanned the room until his gaze landed on a stone slab in the corner, its surface worn down by years of use. "What's that?"

He approached the slab, his fingers brushing against something beneath it. With a grunt, he lifted the heavy stone, revealing a hidden compartment.

'What is this place?' Inside, he found a small chest in the corner. Running his hand against the rough surface, he opened it. "Did someone forget to secure this?" He discovered a bundle of letters and a small journal, the pages yellowed and brittle with age. He opened the journal with care, his eyes widening. "This handwriting... Lord Muchen?"

Leaning against the wall, he skimmed through the pages, each word adding to his unease.

"Starvation... thousand lashes... keeping him awake for days..."

His resolve hardened, his stomach knotting as a bitter taste crept up his throat, his mind circling back to Muchen.

A particular passage caught his eye: "Today, I tested the limits of the demon's endurance. The chains held him well, but he remains alive. I must try harsher methods."

Yize's stomach churned as he read the accounts of Muchen's involvement in every act of cruelty and the methods he used.

"Break him, bend him, make him obedient."

Yize's grip tightened on the journal, his knuckles tense. "Why? This isn't the behavior of a noble leader, but of a..." he whispered as a wave of nausea surfaced. "I should... make a replica of this."

He emanated a yellow light in his palm, forming a copy of the journal before placing the original back inside the chest. Just as he turned to leave, a hidden panel in the wall caught his eye.

"Is that...?" He pried it open to reveal an old, rusted dagger and a blood-stained cloth. "These..." Ache gripped his heart, telling him stories of the suffering endured in this sinister place. "I shouldn't stay here!"

He stepped back, his breath ragged. The clues in the cell painted a disturbing picture. He turned and left the dungeon, the door creaking shut behind him, the darkness of the cell now mirrored in his heart.