In the Far North of The Continent, where icy winds howled across the barren landscape and snow covered the ground like a thick, white carpet, Xia Longwei stood. From the roof of his imposing castle, he viewed the vast expanse of men below him, soldiers gathered in perfect formation, their armour glinting under the pale northern sun.

“Are these all of them?” he questioned, his voice sharp and clear, directed at the bowing figures behind him.

“Yes, O Lord,” they replied in unison, voices trembling with a mix of fear and reverence.

Xia Longwei remained silent, his gaze fixed on the legion before him. The silence stretched, broken only by the faint clinking of armour and the whistling of the wind.

“They are enough to keep The Empire’s Army occupied for a while,” he finally said, nodding slightly. He turned his cold, calculating eyes toward the kneeling individuals behind him, the Sect Masters who had pledged their loyalty. “You guys are too weak, take this. It should buy a bit more time for me,” Xia Longwei remarked as he casually tossed a handful of beads toward the Sect Masters. The beads glowed faintly, almost pulsating with a strange energy.

The 9 Sect Masters began to twitch as the beads embedded themselves into their skin, dissolving into their flesh and travelling through their veins like molten fire. Their bodies convulsed, muscles bulging and contracting as if being reshaped by an unseen hand.

“Yeah, I’m not waiting for you guys to finish this,” Xia Longwei said impatiently, snapping his fingers with a casual flick.

SNAP!

In an instant, the bodies of the 9 Sect Masters blurred, images of them flickering in and out of existence, each one displaying a different moment in time. Their forms seemed to stretch and compress, reality warping around them as Xia Longwei’s power took hold.

“That should be enough,” Xia Longwei said with a satisfied tone, snapping his fingers once more.

SNAP!

The Sect Masters froze, their bodies returning to a state of stillness. Xia Longwei’s power had ‘skipped the cutscene,’ accelerating the transformation he had initiated.

“Grant us a name, O Lord,” the Sect Master of the Emerald Throne spoke, his voice now thin and brittle. The transformation had done quite a strange thing to the already old man—his once-glass like stature had withered, leaving him looking like a fragile twig that might break under the slightest pressure.

“You can name yourselves.Now let's get going you lots!” Xia Longwei remarked as he raised his hands up in the air as Qi began to wrap around the entire army and The Sect Masters.

Xia Longwei then clapped his hands, causing the entire army, along with the Sect Masters, to vanish into thin air. Silence filled the air, the only remaining presence being Xia Longwei himself, standing alone on the castle's roof, unmoving, his gaze distant.

“So, is this how you want to end things?” a voice called out from beside him, breaking the silence.

“Does it matter anymore? How does it all come to an end?” Xia Longwei replied in a bland tone, his expression unreadable.

“The ends don’t specifically justify the means,” Xia Fugui’s voice countered, a hint of weariness seeping through. “A general may be the winner, but if he is the only one that remains, who will he lord over?”

Xia Longwei stayed silent for a moment, his face a mask of indifference. Then he replied, his voice cold and detached, “Why do you even care enough to talk to me just moments before the war begins? No amount of talk is going to move my heart, and you know that very well.”

“I care for you, my son,” Xia Fugui responded, his voice soft, almost pleading.

Xia Longwei let out a bitter laugh, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah, that’s some shit acting right there. You never cared about a single one of your offspring! None of the Dragon Emperors ever did! You only had descendants because of your limited lifespan and nothing more. You might argue that you treat Weiyu like a son, but you don’t, and you know it. You see him as a friend, an advisor, another addition to your forces, and nothing more! So how about you quit the sweet talk and tell me your actual reason?”

There was a pause, the air between them thick with tension. The voice was silent for a moment before speaking again. “Do you think you can win?” it asked, the question hanging in the air like a challenge.

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Hearing this, Xia Longwei smirked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “So even you can’t see the end to this?”

“I can see all the events,” the voice admitted slowly, “but when I near the end, I see… nothing.”

Xia Longwei smiled as he heard it.Space began to warp around him as he began to disappear yet not before he spoke a few more words.

“Father,I promise you.I will fulfil this rotting ambition of you and your forefathers! Mark my words!”

With that he disappeared.

None remained in the castle anymore.

A sigh echoed throughout the Winter Castle.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, in the capital, a strange stillness settled over the city. The air turned icy, and an uneasy feeling gripped the hearts of every citizen, a weight of sorrow pressing down on them from all sides. Conversations stilled, laughter died, and a shared sense of foreboding spread through the streets like a shadow.

“Why does everything feel so… sorrowful?” each citizen wondered, the same thought echoing silently through countless minds, as if whispered by the city itself.

Then, without warning, the temperature shifted. The air grew suffocatingly hot, and the sun above shone with an intensity that bordered on cruelty. Eyes turned skyward, seeking relief from the unbearable heat, only to be met with a sight that stole their breath away.

Two suns burned in the sky, side by side. But something was horribly wrong.

One of the suns was growing larger, swelling with each passing second, a blinding orb that consumed the heavens.

Realisation struck like a thunderclap.

It wasn’t the sun that was getting bigger.

No.

The sun was falling.

A wave of panic spread through the streets. Cries of fear broke out as people began to run, their faces twisted in terror. Desperation drove them, but it was useless. There was no escape, no refuge from what was coming.

In a heartbeat, the descending sun touched the earth, igniting everything in a flash of pure, searing light. For one brief moment, the city was bathed in a brilliance that turned night into day, an explosion of radiance that seemed to freeze time itself.

BOOM!

The fire came first, a great wave of flames that swept through the capital with a merciless fury. Everything was consumed in an instant: homes, markets, temples—all turned to ash under the heat. Only the castle stood untouched.

The shockwave followed, a force that rolled through the Cpnti like a tidal wave, shattering buildings, toppling statues, and reducing all to rubble. The destruction did not stop at the city’s edge; it surged outward, levelling the towns and villages beyond, swallowing everything in its path. The once-proud cities crumbled, their towers collapsing, their streets reduced to smoking ruins.

The gates of The City were torn asunder.The capital was reduced to a barren wasteland, a silent witness to the end of an era.

Then came the tremors. The earth shuddered and groaned, splitting open with deep, yawning cracks. The continent itself seemed to break apart, its foundations shattered, as it began to splinter into islands that would drift apart in a distant future. Mountains crumbled, rivers changed course, and valleys were swallowed by the earth’s rending.

And then, as swiftly as it began, the chaos paused. A deathly stillness fell over the land, broken only by the distant crackle of flames. The sky, once a deep blue, was now a darkened shroud of ash and smoke, blotting out the sun and casting a cold shadow over the world.

But the tranquillity was an illusion, a fragile moment of calm before the storm. A massive explosion suddenly tore through the stillness, scattering the ash-laden clouds. The shockwave rippled through the heavens, as if announcing the arrival of a new power.

At that moment, nine sect masters appeared, followed by Xia Longwei and his army. They stood at the edge of the ruin, their presence a dark silhouette against the smouldering sky.

“The stage is set. Come out, Father!” Xia Longwei shouted, his voice carrying through the lifeless air. His cloak billowed dramatically, an apparition in the stillness.

“Yes, you’re right!” Xia Fugui’s voice answered, echoing from the shadows of the castle—the lone survivor of the devastation. He emerged with a calm stride, Ling Xuan and the Dragon Generals flanking him, their faces unreadable.

Below them, an army in golden armour assembled, their armour adorned with intricate draconic patterns that shimmered in the dull light. They moved with a practised grace, their presence radiating power.

“Let’s begin, Son,” Xia Fugui declared. In a blink, he vanished, reappearing before Xia Longwei. A massive domain unfolded around them, rising up to touch the sky, challenging the very heavens.

“Well, he’s gone. Now it’s our turn,” Li Zhongu said, a fierce grin spreading across his face. He surged forward, his companion matching his pace.

Seeing this, both the Empire’s forces and Xia Longwei’s army charged, a sea of warriors colliding with a roar that shook the ground.

RAHHHH!

Primal roars filled the air as the armies clashed.

“Alright, Ling Xuan, let’s go!” Lei Tei called out, charging into the fray without hesitation. None of them spared a thought for the destruction that had unfolded around them. Mortals and their petty lives meant nothing.

Yet Ling Xuan hesitated for a moment, his eyes distant, as if seeing something far beyond the battlefield.

“Apologies,” he whispered softly before launching himself into the fight. To whom his apology was meant, or what it signified, remained a mystery.