CHAPTER 1

"This is the place," Jamal exclaimed. It was like finding water in a desert. "His father, the king, had been trying to keep him in the Palace, with his head buried in a book or staring at teachers with a black board, studying about war, running a nation, finances and other irrelevant things.

Thankfully, after years of research and spying—scuttling about in his father's chambers— he had finally found it.

The Tomb of Khan.

It resembled an ordinary cave on the mountainside, nestled within the towering Caydunas mountain range, where peaks reached staggering heights of around 9,000 meters. This treacherous terrain was also home to 50 of the Jordee continent's most perilous species.

But why, you may ask, was the eldest son of the king, next in line to the throne and a prodigious cultivator of unparalleled talent since the founding emperor, found in one of the most dangerous locations on the continent?

The answer, dear reader, lies in a literal key. It appears that nobody expects 12-year-old children to possess keys to anything these days – be it locks, repositories, vaults, or concealed chambers shrouded behind layers of impenetrable galdeorite, guarded by the King's Imperial Iron Brigade. It's a rather irresponsible oversight.

So, after sneaking in and out of his father’s chambers and stea– borrowing the map to what he had been looking for. Jamal, immediately set out, traversing over and around dangerous swamps and the hunting grounds of multiple apex predators.

Nonetheless, Jamal had arrived at this place, at the precipice of his life's work, which, for a twelve-year-old, amounted to quite an accomplishment.

The imposing doors before him were crafted from a material that seemed to hail from another realm. The wood itself exuded an aura of such value that it appeared to disdain the very mountain that housed it. The doors radiated an atmosphere heavy enough to stifle Jamal.

wo symmetrical, black patterns adorned the doors, resembling the silent descent of a falcon upon its prey. The doors held a majestic presence, as if they carried the essence of Emperor Khan, asserting that the world was too small to contain him.

Jamal, exercising caution and common sense, inched closer to the doors. He arrived in front of these magnificent barriers, representing nearly five years of his life – a substantial portion of a twelve-year-old's existence.

But the doors remained unmoved, immovable like the imperial guards of the king's chamber, the Imperial Iron Brigade, denying entry to all deemed unworthy of the king's presence.

Hours passed, and Jamal's persistence waned. The doors remained steadfast, refusing to yield to the full extent of his fifth-stage cultivation.

He had tried every conceivable approach, even resorting to bargaining with the doors. Jamal had offered his irritating cousin, Maribel as an offering to the doors if they opened for him, as though he weren’t prepared to part with her regardless. In his eyes, Maribel was an unpleasant, bothersome presence who delighted in taunting him for his short stature.

However ost men in the kingdom would eagerly kiss the ground walked upon by one of the top ten beauties on the continent, talk less off allowing her to be used as an offering.

Jamal couldn’t stand it anymore, in frustration, Jamal struck the wall with all his might. This action, however, led to an unforeseen consequence. Unbeknownst to him, a jagged rock lay precisely where his fist would land.

Under normal circumstances, this would pose no threat to Jamal, a fifth-stage cultivator. However, it appeared that the spiritual essence of the door had permeated its surroundings, enhancing their perfection. The jagged rock pierced through Jamal's knuckles and palm, leaving a gaping wound, with blood spurting across the floor and doors.

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"Aaaaaaaaah," Jamal screamed in unbearable agony, struggling to breathe. The rock seemed to act as a serrated blade designed to inflict maximum harm. Slowly but surely, Jamal's wound began to heal.

Amidst the chaos, Jamal noticed that the spilled blood was vanishing, as if being drawn into a concealed syringe. Then, a voice resonated from the very doors themselves.

"Blood of my blood, crimson kin born of my being, your passage is sanctioned. Enter as you will, step forth." The voice exuded power, its deep bass tones akin to a nature-endowed opera singer, radiating a sense of invincibility. It suggested that the world was but a tiny speck within its grasp.

The majestic doors gradually swung open, silent and smooth. They operated as if they were freshly crafted and then meticulously maintained every second of their existence. If they could produce sound, Jamal was convinced it would be a world-class symphony.

Jamal hastily rose from the ground, clutching his right hand with his left, and cautiously entered the doorway, his gaze alert to any signs of danger.

Inside the cave bore no similiarity to its external appearance. There were no stalagmites or pools of millennia-old spirit nectar. Instead, the walls resembled panels of an intricately secured safe, created to guard a single, immensely precious entity. Jamal struggled to identify the material that made up the cave's interior, a surprising fact given his years spent within the palace and access to the Jordee continent's finest education. He was prince after all.

The inside of the cave had the perfect symmetry of a square, with dark gray walls that would have proven wrong any guess from the outside. As Jamal ventured further, dim lights along the cave's upper edges illuminated his path.

A staircase led to a colossal stone block, resembling the spine of a well-etched book, resting upon a pyramid-like structure with a flat, wide surface topping it off. Each step he took echoed solemnly, as though he were partaking in a sacred rite. At the top of the stairs, he laid eyes on the book in all its glory.

The book's hue was a profound black that seemed to consume any light that touched it. White-gold engravings adorned the book, leaving only a rectangular space for the word "Khan" inscribed in the same white hue as the splendid doors Jamal had passed through.

Tenderly, Jamal turned the book towards himself to better discern the lettering on its cover. He then opened it to the first page, where the letters were inscribed as follows:

This is the record of the life of Khan.

In the quiet chambers of my thoughts, where the weight of the crown and the echoes of courtiers' voices faded into less than nothing, I inscribed the beginning of this diary. At first, it was meant for these tired eyes alone, a sanctuary where my innermost fears and dreams could find refuge. A solitary confidant to bear the stories that etch themselves across my soul like scars. But as the years weigh upon my shoulders, I have come to realize the value of sharing the knowledge and wisdom that destiny has bestowed upon me.

I am Emperor Khan Dahges, ruler of the realms, entrusted with the prosperity and fate of our people. The weight of this responsibility is profound, and with each passing day, I have witnessed the unforgiving hands of time carve lines upon my countenance and lessons into my very existence. As I pen this introduction, I am acutely aware that the echoes of my rule will persist through the ages, not solely in the form of decrees and edicts but in the lessons I've gathered from the maze like paths of power and leadership.

This tome, initially a solitary endeavor, shall no longer be confined to the depths of my private chambers. My beloved descendants, I bequeath this chronicle to you. Within its pages, you will find not only a record of my reign but a compendium of the wisdom, the burdens, and the victories that have molded me into the leader I am today.

May this diary serve as a lantern to illuminate your own journey through the intricacies of kingship and life. The victories and trials, the alliances and betrayals, the unyielding resolve and the unspoken regrets, all these are woven into the fabric of this narrative. I entrust it to you with the hope that you shall find guidance, solace, and strength within its aged leaves.

I originally wrote this for myself. In the solitude of my chamber, I pen this diary, initially my confidant. Now, it becomes your guide, my children, heirs to this realm.

In these pages, I've chronicled my reign, the challenges, and the victories. Learn from my legacy. As future rulers, find wisdom and strength within.

I leave this book here in chamber KH-01, for my descendants, and for the future kings of Andoria-Dahghes.

Jamal flipped the page again, turning to another sheet in the book, the black shade of the pages and their ephemeral white lettering, serving to give the book a cryptic aura.

Right there, written on the beginning of the page was the record of the life of Khan.

It went like this…