The sun hung high above the Bladecrest Clan's territory, casting stark shadows across the grand marble courtyard. The heat shimmered faintly on the white stone tiles, giving the estate a mirage-like aura. Yet, beneath its grandeur and shining stone, a tension ran through the ground—like threads pulled too tight, ready to snap.
From the east, a small but distinct procession advanced through the main gate.
At the center of it rode a lone young man, posture upright, face expressionless. His robes were a deep navy blue, trimmed in silver and marked with the unmistakable swirling crest of the Aetherwind Clan—a symbol that made even veteran cultivators flinch.
Leo Aetherwind.
Flanked by Butler Wang on his left and a line of his elite guards behind him, he cut a figure of precision and quiet command. The guards marched silently, weapons sheathed but their eyes constantly scanning. Their presence was like the blade inside a sheath—hidden but deadly.
From the rooftops and behind pillars, several figures in black cloaks observed the area. They moved without sound, melted into the shadows, and left no trace. These were Leo's Shadow Force, his invisible arm of surveillance and elimination. No one saw them directly—but every important individual felt their presence like cold breath on the back of the neck.
The moment the gatekeepers spotted the crest of Aetherwind approaching, panic shot through the outer ranks of the Bladecrest Clan.
A bell rang.
Not once, but three times in rapid succession—a signal rarely used unless high-status visitors arrived unannounced.
Footsteps echoed in every direction. Messengers sprinted across corridors and courtyards. Servants fumbled to prepare.
From the main manor, a middle-aged man in hastily thrown-on robes emerged. His hair was disheveled, forehead slick with sweat, and his sash hung slightly crooked.
He was the current Clan Head of Bladecrest.
And he looked terrified.
He rushed forward and bowed deeply at the courtyard's edge, his voice breathless and cracking from both effort and anxiety.
"Young Master Leo! Welcome, welcome! We are honored—truly honored by your visit!"
Leo remained mounted, his gaze scanning the estate ahead without acknowledging the man's words.
His eyes, sharp and discerning, landed on the elegant buildings, the pristine gardens, the tall inner walls. But his expression darkened—his lips curled slightly downward in distaste.
The opulence was surface-level.
Beneath it, Leo saw neglect. Arrogance. Decay hidden behind fresh paint.
"Is this how the Bladecrest Clan greets guests?" he asked, voice cold as ice. "No shade? No water? Making your visitors wait outside like merchants on delivery day?"
The Clan Head flinched.
His face turned a sickly pale as sweat gathered at his temples.
"I-I apologize, Young Master Leo," he stammered. "Please forgive us. I was… not prepared for such an esteemed guest. Had I known you were coming—"
"You should have known," Butler Wang said calmly beside Leo, cutting in with quiet elegance. "When one is truly important, they do not announce themselves with banners. They simply arrive. It is the duty of the lesser to always be prepared."
The Clan Head bowed lower, nearly scraping his forehead on the ground. "Yes… yes… please, this way."
Leo didn't respond.
He dismounted with a single fluid motion, his boots touching the ground with a crisp sound. He walked forward without waiting for permission, the guards falling into formation behind him without a word.
To Leo, the invitation was meaningless.
He wasn't here for diplomacy.
He was here to reclaim something that had been buried.
As they moved through the courtyard, several of the elders stood to the side, forming a line of ceremonial observers.
One of them—a man with gray streaks in his hair and the air of old pride—whispered loudly enough for several around him to hear, "Who does he think he is? Just walking in without the Clan Head's leave?"
A sharp smack echoed across the stones.
Heads turned.
The elder staggered back, clutching his cheek. Blood trickled from his lips where a tooth had been knocked loose.
The Clan Head stood with his arm still outstretched, trembling with fury.
"You fool!" he hissed. "That is Leo Aetherwind! Sole heir to the Aetherwind and Skydawn bloodlines! If the heavens split and the sun turned to ash, we still bow before him!"
The elder's legs gave out. He collapsed to his knees, his face white with shame and fear.
Around him, other members of the clan bowed their heads quickly, the entire courtyard falling into submissive silence.
Leo never turned back to look.
Their apologies were wasted.
To him, they were already beneath notice.
His focus had already shifted ahead.
According to Butler Wang's prior investigation, Rio and Roxanne Bladecrest did not reside in the inner manors or elite towers.
They had been cast out.
Stripped of lineage rights.
Banished to the forgotten outskirts of the territory where the aging, the wounded, and the disgraced were tucked away—out of sight and mind.
The contrast was stark as Leo moved from marble paths to rough stone roads.
The polished elegance of the estate faded into simplicity. Manors gave way to cottages. Gold trim and gemstone fixtures were replaced by wood, rusted lanterns, and broken fences.
Eventually, they reached a quiet clearing near the outer wall where an old tree cast its shade over a modest wooden home.
The walls were weathered.
The paint chipped.
The roof had been patched several times.
Yet the garden near the front was neatly trimmed. The plants, though not exotic, were healthy. Someone had taken the time to care.
Leo stepped toward the door and knocked once.
There was a pause.
Then, the door creaked open slowly.
An elderly man stood in the doorway.
His hair was almost fully white, his face lean and pale. Wrinkles traced the edges of his eyes and forehead. He breathed slowly, as if every inhale came with effort. Despite his physical frailty, his eyes remained sharp, clear.
Behind the weariness, Leo saw pride.
A quiet, enduring pride.
Leo offered a small smile—one of the few genuine ones he had allowed himself lately.
"You must be Rio and Roxanne's father," he said softly. "I'm Leo."
The man stared at him in disbelief.
His fingers gripped the doorframe.
"Leo… Aetherwind?"
"That is correct."
The man took a step back, then bowed deeply, wobbling slightly as he did. "My apologies, Young Master. I never imagined… Please forgive this humble place. I fear it's unworthy of your presence, but—please—come in."
Leo stepped inside, followed by Butler Wang and two of his visible guards. The rest remained outside, stationed silently.
The inside of the home matched its exterior.
Simple, but clean. The scent of herbs lingered faintly in the air. There were a few old paintings on the wall—probably from a better time. A worn table sat in the center, its corners chipped. Two carved chairs flanked it. The kitchen was small and unused.
In the far corner of the room, on a modest bed made of thick cotton layers, lay a woman.
Even in her frail state, her presence was undeniable.
Blonde hair spilled loosely across the pillow. Her face was pale, lips dry. Her body had thinned from years of illness. But her cheekbones, her high brow, and her elegant jawline—though softened—still revealed the regal beauty she once carried.
Leo's eyes softened.
This was Roxanne's mother.
The old man hurried to her side, kneeling beside the bed.
"My dear, wake up. We have a guest. An important one."
She stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering open. But she didn't speak.
Leo stepped closer, raising a hand gently. "It's alright, Uncle. Let her rest. I didn't come to burden her."
The old man looked up, surprised by the sincerity in Leo's tone.
Then, he bowed again. "You are too kind, Young Master."
They took their seats at the table, and Leo wasted no time.
"I came here today not to observe protocol. I came for a purpose."
The old man looked uncertain.
Leo leaned forward slightly.
"I know what happened to your family. I know how Alex's father poisoned you. How your wife was cursed with illness. How Alex faked his own death and betrayed you all. I know everything."
The man froze.
A tremble ran through his hands.
His eyes searched Leo's face, trying to find deception—but there was none.
"How… how do you know this?"
Leo's voice lowered. "Because I have eyes everywhere. And because I do not tolerate betrayal."
He paused.
"More than that… I believe debts must be repaid. Whether they are debts of kindness—or cruelty."
The room fell into silence.
The air grew heavy with unsaid emotions.
Then came the soft sound of footsteps from the back hallway.
Light ones. Barely audible.
But purposeful.
Leo didn't need to turn.
He already knew who was coming.
The first piece had entered the board.
And the game had already begun.
The soft footsteps approached from the narrow hallway beyond the kitchen.
Two figures emerged.
A boy and a girl, perhaps fifteen or sixteen at most, stepped into the room. They looked nothing like the outer clansmen of Bladecrest—no arrogance, no entitlement. Instead, they carried quiet tension in their posture, like people used to enduring silence, used to being dismissed, forgotten.
The boy stood tall and composed, with short, ruffled black hair and striking gray eyes—sharp and observant. His posture was straight, balanced. Every step he took was deliberate, grounded. A sword hilt peeked from beneath his robe.
The girl followed slightly behind. Her long blond hair hung freely behind her back, tied in a thin braid. Her green eyes were alert and guarded, lips pressed into a line. She didn't speak—she only studied Leo, as if trying to measure his worth before even a word was exchanged.
Leo turned his gaze to them.
He already knew who they were.
"Rio. Roxanne."
The girl tensed. The boy's brows narrowed, but he remained calm.
"I've heard of you," Leo said, standing from the table. "But words and memories never quite match the real thing."
Rio tilted his head slightly. "You know us?"
"I do," Leo answered. "Better than most. Better than your own clan, it seems."
Their father looked between them, then nodded slowly, his voice hoarse. "Children… this is Leo Aetherwind. Head of the Aetherwind lineage."
Both Rio and Roxanne bowed in unison, stiff but respectful. "It's an honor."
"Forget that," Leo said bluntly. "Titles are for people who need them. I came here for truth—and power."
Rio's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"
Leo looked at them both, his expression unreadable. "I know the truth of what happened to your family. Your exile. The poison that crippled your father's cultivation. The sickness inflicted on your mother. The lies that placed Alex Bladecrest at the head of the clan."
At that, Roxanne's lips parted. "How… how do you know that?"
Leo stepped forward, his aura shifting. It wasn't spiritual pressure—it was something colder. A presence that filled the small home with certainty. Like a storm that didn't roar but whispered — I know, and I'm not asking.
"Because I've lived long enough to see how the world treats the honest," he said. "And I've decided to burn those lies down."
The siblings exchanged a look.
Leo raised his hand.
From his storage ring, he summoned a thin black scroll, sealed with three metallic rings and a wax crest. He placed it gently on the table between them.
"This scroll contains a full account. Locations, poison formula, the names of the traitors involved in your father's poisoning, the one who crafted the curse on your mother, and the spirit-forger who helped Alex fake his death to gain public sympathy."
The silence that followed was total.
Not even the wind stirred outside.
Roxanne stared at the scroll like it was a ticking bomb. Rio didn't blink.
"This is everything we've ever asked," Rio said quietly.
"No," Leo replied. "It's only a part of it. The truth alone changes nothing. But with power… it can become justice."
He paused.
"I want you both to come with me. Train with me. Prepare. And when the time comes, I'll put the world's eyes back where they belong—on you."
"But why?" Roxanne finally asked. "Why us? Why help us?"
Leo's voice softened. "Because in another life, I watched you both fall."
The words made no sense to them.
But they didn't need to.
Leo didn't explain further. He didn't reveal the memories of a past life. He didn't tell them about the battle, the flashbomb, the betrayal, the lies. That wasn't their burden to bear.
Not yet.
Instead, he turned to their father. "They're talented. Dangerous. Sharp. But their potential was buried because your clan fears what they might become."
The old man exhaled slowly, his shoulders trembling.
Leo finished, "Let them walk beside me. I'll give them the power to reclaim what's theirs."
A heavy silence hung in the air.
Then Rio stepped forward and picked up the scroll.
He didn't open it.
He just held it.
Roxanne stepped beside him.
Their eyes met, and Leo knew.
They'd accepted.
"You'll leave in three days," Leo said calmly. "But not from the main gate. You'll come with my Shadow Force. Quietly."
Their father looked like he wanted to speak—perhaps to ask more, to confirm it was real.
But he only nodded.
Leo turned, signaling Butler Wang.
"We'll leave them to prepare. I've done what I came to do."
As they walked out, Leo paused at the doorway and looked back once more at the twins.
"Sharpen yourselves. The world will not wait."
Then he left.
Outside, his guards reformed around him. The sunlight was starting to dip westward, casting longer shadows through the outer compound.
But the wind felt different now.
The kind that came before a storm.
---
Far from the Bladecrest territory, in the heart of a vibrant city, a different scene played out.
A bustling open-air market hummed with life—merchants shouting prices, cultivators bargaining for rare talismans, street performers drawing crowds with martial tricks.
Through it all strolled Alex Bladecrest.
Draped in polished silver armor laced with blue silk trim, his presence turned heads. A confident smirk curved his lips, and his eyes gleamed like someone who believed the world owed him its attention.
In his arms, wrapped carefully in layers of enchanted silk, lay a dragon egg. The shell pulsed faintly with warm light, its surface etched with ancient runes.
Alex clutched it like a trophy.
People whispered his name as he passed.
"Alex Bladecrest… did you hear? He solo-cleared the Skyfire Trial."
"They say he's the one who'll reach the Eternal Realm before thirty…"
He heard every word. He loved it.
He strutted through the market like a prince on parade.
Passing a stall, he paused and admired his reflection in a polished obsidian mirror.
"Not bad," he said aloud, adjusting his collar.
He laughed to himself.
He was already planning his next "accidental" heroic moment. Another public battle. Another stage.
Another chapter in his legend.
He had no idea that elsewhere, far from the lights and attention…
Two blades had been raised.
Not against him yet.
But soon.
Very soon.
---
[To Be Continued]
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Author's Note:
This marks the full two-part chapter of The Return of the Rooks!
Leo has made his move. Rio and Roxanne are back on the board.
Alex has no clue that the world he built on lies is about to crack.
Ready for the next confrontation?
Drop your thoughts below—ideas, predictions, theories. And don't forget to support with a Power Stone if you're enjoying the journey!
We rise from the ashes of betrayal—chapter by chapter.
– azuredragonx
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