The phoenix falls, lost in the clouds—dreams cannot wake.
The sword breaks, but love's scar still stirs the heart.
Her voice lingers like moonlight, weeping in shadows.
In this life we part, yet I wait to walk you home.
Mo Yuchen
Your roar shook the skies, but you trembled for me.
I burned with wings wide, yet longed just to stay.
If fate must tear us, let my fire guard your path.
When you find the dawn—remember, I once flew with you.
Feng Xiu Lan
Thousands of years ago...
The heavens once resided in the spiritual land of Tianxu. But as the number of deities grew, so did their level of cultivation—and their egos. Over time, the desire to rise higher into the skies became a symbol of status and divine power. Leaving Tianxu behind was their way of showing dominance over the three realms. And so, the divine beings moved upward in search of greater dwellings, leaving the land of Tianxu in the hands of lesser immortals.
As centuries passed, the immortals multiplied, each one dreaming of becoming the supreme ruler. With the gods and high-ranking immortals gone—and no ruler to guide or lead—Tianxu fell into disorder.
In the struggle for control, four powerful groups rose above the rest and carved their own kingdoms into the land.
In the west, humans born with the spiritual bone of immortality settled in jungles and fertile lands. They walked the cultivation path with steady focus, growing stronger through discipline, learning, and spiritual refinement. Their ability to form talismans and trap enemies within powerful formations was unmatched. In time, they came to be known as the Talisman Clan.
The north became home to the wild and battle-hardened Beast Clan, who lived in the rugged mountains. These were spiritual animals who could transform into human forms by cultivating their core beads—the source of their strength and identity. Though the northern lands were the poorest of the four kingdoms, the beasts survived by relying on nature and their instincts. They never depended on other clans for food or water. And when they entered the battlefield, they were unstoppable. Their brute strength and natural resilience earned them a powerful place in the world of cultivation and war.
To the east, the Bird Clan claimed the coastal cliffs, farmlands, and sea routes. Ruled by royals of pure phoenix blood, their lands were rich in minerals, and their ports brought wealth through trade and sea expansion. The Bird Clan had a massive sky army, feared by all, capable of striking swiftly from above. Because of their wealth and power, they were regarded as the second strongest of the four clans.
In the south lived the most feared and mysterious group—the Dragon Clan. They ruled vast lands and oceans and were served by the Merman Clans of the deep sea. Though their army appeared to be the smallest, the dragons were almost impossible to defeat. It was widely believed—but never proven—that if war truly broke out, the Mermen would rise and fight beside them. Their loyalty had been pledged long ago, doubling the dragon army in secret. The Dragon Clan was the richest, the most reclusive, and the most dangerous of all.
At the centre of Tianxu lay a land rich in heavenly treasures and spiritual energy. Every clan desired this sacred ground, and after a long debate, the kings of the four clans agreed to build a shared Academy there. Thus, Tianxu Academy was created. Each clan sent its most trusted and powerful elder—a high-level cultivator who would serve as both teachers and silent guardians of the Academy, reporting back to their clans when needed.
To avoid conflict, a special event was created: the Star Cultivator of the Century Competition. Held once every hundred years, this competition determined which clan would lead the Academy for the next century. Whichever clan's representative won would have their elder appointed as the Head Master of the Academy.
Over many centuries, the Dragon Clan won this competition repeatedly, and so the Academy gradually came under their quiet rule.
Encircling the Academy and stretching between the four kingdoms was the last and most overlooked part of Tianxu—known only as the No-Man's Land. This vast, dangerous region became home to those who had nowhere else to go. Rebels, immortals seeking peace, disowned royals, and forgotten souls all found shelter here. Since the No-Man's Land had no treasures, no resources worth stealing, and no value in war, the other clans ignored it. But if soldiers from any clan ever found someone crossing through it, they were killed on sight—no questions asked.
And it was in this very land that the most deadly secret was kept.
***
Five hundred years ago...
In the eastern region of the No-Man's Land, the shadows of towering trees swayed beneath a silver moon. Long Xuanji, a dragon elder, appeared near an abandoned wooden cottage. In his arms, he carried a basket, and inside it, a newborn baby boy wrapped in golden silk. Xuanji's sharp eyes scanned the dark forest, his senses stretching nearly ten li in every direction.
The sound of horses and running men echoed in the distance. Soldiers were closing in.
With urgency, Xuanji placed the basket on the worn veranda of the cottage. His hair was ruffled, his face streaked with dried blood. The wounds on his body told the story—he had been on the run.
In the next breath, two more figures appeared. One was a thunderbird, gliding in from the sky with a basket held gently in her beak. She shifted from her bird form just before landing, transforming into a graceful woman.
"Yan Lianyu, I was beginning to worry," said Xuanji, a rare smile flickering across his lips.
"I've got her," she replied softly, placing her basket on the porch. Inside it, a baby girl lay wrapped in satin-white cloth, sleeping without a sound.
The third person arrived moments later. Hu Doubao, a sturdy man of beastly presence, crouched and placed one hand on the ground. "They're getting closer," he muttered. "We need to hurry."
Without another word, the three elders formed a triangle around the cottage and began channeling their vital qi. Their hand movements were different, each one using the techniques of their own clan—dragon, bird, and beast.
A golden, invisible barrier began to take shape. But Yan Lianyu's breath faltered. She struggled to hold the flow of energy.
"This won't be strong enough," she said, her arms trembling.
"Even with three clans, it's not complete," added Hu Doubao.
"We need blood from all four clans," said Long Xuanji. He looked to the boy in the basket and moved his hand in a swift arc. A small cry broke the night as a single drop of blood rose from the baby's foot.
"This will do."
Xuanji guided the glowing drop into the center of their formation, and the air shimmered with power. The elders moved in sync, up in the air, circling the spell. The barrier pulsed and expanded, finally forming a full dome around the house, stretching into the forest beyond.
"This place is hidden now," said Doubao. "No king or soldier will find it."
"And even if they do," said Yan Lianyu, her voice firm again, "they won't be able to break the barrier—unless they unite the four clans. And that, they'll never do."
The three elders stood in silence, gazing down at the children.
Two children with destinies the world could not yet imagine.
In the basket, the babies lay side by side. Their hands brushed. A quiet bond formed.
Far across Tianxu, war drums began to beat once more.
And so the story begins—not with a crown or a hero, but with a secret, hidden deep in the forest... waiting to rise.