At the end of the Yuan Dynasty (1271–1368) — a powerful empire founded by the Mongols under Kublai Khan — things were falling apart. On the outside, everything still looked grand: golden palaces, dragon banners flying, generals marching with pride. But behind the scenes, the empire was cracking.
The central government had lost control. Powerful families were fighting for influence, soldiers were loyal to money instead of duty, and faraway provinces were starting to rebel. Whispers about an old prophecy began to spread: "When the Sky of the North fades, a child of the South will rise to change the world."
That child… was Li Tianhe (李天河).
Tianhe was not born into a royal family. He grew up in a small village in Jiangnan, near a river that flowed to the Southern Sea. People said strange things about him — that the wind stopped the day he was born, that the sky turned a soft blue glow, and that even animals were silent when he cried for the first time.
His mother, Nyi Raraswati, was a mysterious woman from across the ocean. She spoke an old language, wore patterned robes with golden threads, and always carried a wooden pendant with strange markings: ᮕᮛᮠᮡᮀ — Parahyang. In her homeland, Parahyang was known as a sacred land of balance — part myth, part real — linked to an ancient kingdom called Pajajaran.
His father, Li Cheng, was a middle-ranking general — brave, honest, and loyal to the people. But when he defended starving villagers from greedy tax collectors, corrupt nobles framed him as a traitor. He was executed without trial. Tianhe was just five years old.
Growing up, Tianhe carried both pain and power — pain from his father's death, and power from his mother's strange teachings and scrolls from the South.
Most noble families hated Tianhe. They called him "mud blood," "barbarian child," or "skyless boy." But he didn't care. By age 12, he had memorized the Art of War, learned Taoist breathing techniques, and could read old Sanskrit texts that even scholars avoided. His mother taught him ancient chants and prayers from her homeland. He was smart, quiet, and always watched everything like a hawk.
His skills caught the eye of a retired war tutor from Wuyingdian Academy — the empire's top military school. It was where the sons of generals and princes were trained in war, magic, and strategy.
When Tianhe entered, everyone thought he would fail. But within three years, he broke three legendary records:
The 100-Minute Strategy Test: Create five full battle formations and three escape plans in under 2 hours — no notes, no maps.
Element Combat Simulation: Beat seven senior students using only basic water and earth techniques.
Golden Spirit Trial: A deep meditation test where Tianhe's inner energy showed signs of an ancient force — called "Sky Resonance."
People began to whisper again. Could he be the one from the prophecy?
But his rise didn't go unnoticed. Sons of noblemen hated him. Advisors in the palace feared him. And when the Emperor grew sick and died, a cruel prince named Zhao Rui took over — and he saw Tianhe as a threat.
Tianhe never wanted power.
He just wanted answers — about his father's death, about his mother's mysterious past, and about the strange dreams that showed two moons in the sky and voices that called him "Son of the Forgotten Sky."
But power came anyway. And with power came enemies.
At the age of sixteen, Tianhe was promoted as the youngest Strategic Advisor in the Imperial Court. While the nobles rolled their eyes and whispered behind fans and silken sleeves, the army generals started to respect him — especially after he predicted the ambush at the Northern Border and saved over 5,000 soldiers from certain death.
That victory made headlines in the palace scrolls. Commoners cheered his name. But to the new ruler, Crown Prince Zhao Rui, it was a threat.
Zhao Rui had just seized the throne after the Emperor fell ill under mysterious conditions. He was cold, cunning, and obsessed with control. And he didn't like Tianhe, not his bloodline, not his fame, and especially not his connection to the southern provinces, where rebellion was growing like wildfire.
So Zhao Rui did what tyrants do best. Yes, he planned a trap.
One night, while Tianhe was reviewing scrolls in the South Hall, he received a sealed letter — supposedly from the Minister of Records — asking for a private midnight meeting about ancient texts from the Southern Isles.
But when he arrived at the secret chamber... he found something else.
A hidden vault had been broken into. Forbidden scrolls, the kind linked to dark arts, resurrection magic, and southern cults, were scattered across the floor. And lying in the center of it all... was the bloodied body of Master Yan, the Emperor's personal scholar.
Tianhe froze. Before he could even move, royal guards burst through the doors, swords drawn, shouting accusations:
"Tianhe! You betrayed the Empire!"
"You used southern sorcery to kill a loyal master!"
"Seize him!"
No trial. No defense. No explanation.
Zhao Rui himself declared Tianhe as "a heretic, a traitor, and a danger to the harmony of heaven and earth."
The news spread like wildfire.
"Li Tianhe is a spy from the South."
"He was born from cursed blood."
"He stole secret arts from the palace and tried to raise a rebellion."
In less than a day, Tianhe's name was burned from the academy records. His allies disappeared. His family estate was seized. His mother was arrested and never seen again.
He became a ghost.
From the golden palace halls to the muddy roads of rural villages, wanted posters showed his face. Bounty hunters, military scouts, even old classmates from Wuyingdian were now ordered to kill or capture him.
One official even declared, "Bring me his head, and you'll receive a hundred gold coins and a title."
Tianhe, once the empire's brightest star, was now its most hunted shadow.
But Tianhe didn't die.
With the help of an old friend, Jun Ma, a quiet academy gardener who turned out to be a former spirit cultivator, he escaped through the underground catacombs beneath the palace. For days, he ran through forests, crossed rivers, and dodged death at every turn. He was wounded, poisoned, hunted — but never broken.
In a final chase near the edge of the Southern Sea, with imperial soldiers closing in, Tianhe activated the only thing his mother had left him: the Parahyang Pendant.
The sky cracked open.
Not with thunder.
Not with fire.
But with memory.
He fell through light. Through time. Through stories whispered in ancient prayers.
And when he opened his eyes... he was in Parahyang, the lost kingdom of the South. A land his mother called home. A land untouched by Yuan rule.
A land where his real story — the story of fire, heaven, and destiny — was only just beginning.