The sky above the Xu Royal City was not whole. It was a shattered mirror, cracked from horizon to horizon, its silver-black fissures bleeding thin streams of cold, alien light. Through those cracks, something vast and ancient watched. Not with eyes, but with awareness — a presence that did not care, yet judged all. The heavens were not kind. They were a prison, and this world was one of its cells.
Below, in the Xu Royal Palace, the King wept.
He knelt before the ancestral altar, his back bent, his hands clasped tightly around a jade tablet inscribed with the names of his ancestors. Tears fell from his eyes, tracing paths down his weathered cheeks, dripping onto the wood. His voice was low, broken, like a man confessing sins to gods who no longer listened.
"Forgive me… forgive me… I have failed you. I have failed this kingdom. I have failed my children…"
Behind him, a young man stood in silence.
Xu Yuan.
Twenty-two years old. The Crown Prince of the Xu Royal Family. The King's only son. The one the King loved more than life itself.
He wore a plain white robe, unadorned, as if to show humility. His face was calm. His eyes were dark, deep, like a still lake with no reflection. He did not kneel. He did not weep. He simply watched his father, as one watches a play.
The King turned, face wet, and reached for him.
"Yuan-er… my only son… if I die tomorrow, will you protect this family? Will you protect your brothers? Your sisters?"
Xu Yuan stepped forward.
He knelt.
He lowered his head.
And he smiled.
A gentle smile. Warm. Filial. Perfect.
"Father," he said, voice soft, "you will not die tomorrow. And if you do, I will protect them with my life. I swear it."
The King's eyes brightened. He pulled Xu Yuan into an embrace, holding him like a man holding his last hope.
Xu Yuan did not return the embrace.
He let his father hold him, let the old man's tears soak his shoulder, let the words of love and trust fall into his ears.
Inside, there was nothing.
No warmth. No gratitude. No love.
Only calculation.
*"He is weak. He needs love to feel alive. He needs a son to justify his existence. He is not a king. He is a man clinging to illusions."*
The thought passed through his mind like a blade through water.
*"And I… am not his son."*
***
Later, in his private chambers, Xu Yuan sat before a simple desk, reading a report from the southern provinces.
The drought was worsening. Bandits were growing bolder. The neighboring kingdom was pressuring them over the spirit vein. The ministers were arguing, each pushing their own interests, each pretending to care about the people.
Xu Yuan read it all with cold eyes.
He made a few notes, then called in his most trusted servant.
"Send word to the southern provinces," he said, voice calm. "Tell the local governor to use the bandits as an excuse to raise taxes. Let the people suffer a little more. When they are desperate, they will be easier to control."
The servant bowed and left without a word.
Xu Yuan leaned back in his chair.
*"The weak are meat. The strong are butchers. The King thinks he rules this kingdom. In truth, he is just a figurehead. I am the one who truly controls it."*
He thought of his brothers.
Xu Feng, the eldest, ambitious and proud, already plotting with a Great Sin Sect to overthrow the King and seize the throne.
Xu Lin, the second, weak and cowardly, hating Xu Yuan out of jealousy but too afraid to act.
And his sisters — Xu Qing, kind and naive, deeply attached to him; Xu Lan, cold and intelligent, suspicious of him.
*"Xu Feng is useful. I will let him dig his own grave. Xu Lin is a scapegoat. I will let him take the blame when needed. Xu Qing is a tool. I will use her to manipulate the King. Xu Lan… she is dangerous. But she is also useful. For now, she lives."*
He stood and walked to the window.
Outside, the shattered sky watched. The city slept.
*"This kingdom is small. This world is small. I need more. I need power. I need resources. I need a path that no one else has walked."*
***
The next morning, the Xu Royal Palace was alive with activity.
Servants hurried through the halls, carrying trays of tea, medicine, and reports. Guards stood at every corner, their eyes sharp, their hands never far from their weapons. The Xu Royal Family was not just a royal house — it was a power in the Central Plains, a kingdom that controlled spirit veins, cities, and a small army of cultivators.
In the main hall, the King sat on his throne, his face composed, his voice firm as he listened to reports from his ministers.
Xu Yuan stood to his right, silent, respectful, the perfect prince.
He listened to the reports: a drought in the southern provinces, bandits in the western mountains, a dispute with a neighboring kingdom over a spirit vein. He nodded at the right moments, asked a few polite questions, and offered suggestions that were just wise enough to impress, but not so bold as to threaten the King's authority.
To the court, he was the ideal heir: intelligent, humble, loyal, and deeply filial.
To Xu Yuan, they were all tools.
The ministers were pawns to be used or discarded. The guards were meat to be sacrificed when needed. The kingdom itself was fuel — a base from which he would gather resources, disciples, and information.
And his father?
His father was the greatest tool of all.
Because the King loved him.
Because the King trusted him.
Because the King would never, ever suspect that his beloved son was a demon in human skin.
***
Later that day, Xu Yuan walked through the royal gardens.
The air was thick with the scent of rare flowers and spirit herbs. Birds sang in the trees. A gentle breeze carried the sound of a distant flute.
To any observer, it was a peaceful scene.
To Xu Yuan, it was a lie.
Peace was an illusion. Beauty was a trap. Emotion was a weakness.
He stopped by a small pond, where a group of young ladies from noble families were laughing and playing with lotus flowers. Among them was his younger sister, Xu Qing, her face bright, her eyes full of warmth as she called out to him.
"Brother Yuan! Come here! Look at this flower — it's so beautiful!"
Xu Yuan smiled.
Gentle. Warm. Brotherly.
He walked over, knelt by the pond, and took the flower from her hand.
"It is beautiful," he said. "Just like you."
Xu Qing blushed, laughing, and the other girls giggled, whispering to each other about how kind and handsome the Crown Prince was.
Xu Yuan listened, smiled, and played his role perfectly.
Inside, he was already calculating.
*"Xu Qing… she is useful. She is naive, emotional, and deeply attached to me. She can be used to manipulate the King, to gather information from the noble families, and to create a perfect image of the 'kind prince.'"*
*"But if she ever becomes an obstacle… she will be discarded."*
He handed the flower back to her.
"Keep it, sister. A reminder of this peaceful day."
Xu Qing beamed, hugging the flower like a treasure.
Xu Yuan stood, bowed slightly to the other girls, and walked away.
Behind him, the laughter continued.
Ahead of him, the path led deeper into the garden, toward a quiet, secluded pavilion.
And in that pavilion, waiting for him, was his adopted sister, Xu Lan.
***
Xu Lan was different.
Cold. Intelligent. Suspicious.
She sat in the pavilion, reading a book on ancient cultivation techniques, her eyes sharp, her expression unreadable. When Xu Yuan approached, she did not smile. She simply looked up and said:
"You're late."
Xu Yuan smiled, the perfect brother.
"I apologize, sister. The King needed me."
Xu Lan closed her book slowly.
"You always have time for the King. And for Xu Qing. But never for me."
Xu Yuan sat across from her, his posture relaxed, his voice calm.
"You know I care for you, Lan-er. But you also know that as Crown Prince, my duties come first."
Xu Lan studied him for a long moment.
Then, quietly:
"I know you're not what you seem, Brother Yuan. I don't know what you are… but I know you're not just a kind prince."
Xu Yuan did not flinch.
"Perhaps not," he said, voice soft. "But as long as I protect this family, does it matter?"
Xu Lan's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You protect them… or you protect yourself?"
Xu Yuan smiled, a faint, cold curve of the lips.
"Is there a difference?"
Silence.
Then Xu Lan stood.
"I'll be watching you, Brother Yuan. Closely."
Xu Yuan stood as well, bowed slightly.
"As you wish, sister."
He watched her walk away.
*"She is dangerous. She sees too much. But she is also useful. She can be used to monitor the other siblings, to gather intelligence, and to become a weapon against my enemies."*
*"For now… she lives."*
***
That night, Xu Yuan left the palace under the cover of darkness.
He did not take guards. He did not take servants. He moved like a shadow through the city, then into the surrounding mountains, where the air was thin and the ground was stained with old blood.
He was heading to a forbidden ruin — a place where the Forest of Thorns met the Corpse Mountains, where the land itself was alive and hungry.
Hours later, deep in the ruins, he found it.
A chamber buried beneath layers of stone and bone. The walls were covered in ancient, twisted runes that pulsed with a faint, sickly light. In the center of the chamber stood a single, black mirror, its frame carved with screaming faces, its surface dark like frozen ink.
Xu Yuan approached slowly.
He felt it — a presence, ancient, ruthless, and utterly without mercy. It was not a god. It was not a demon. It was something beyond both.
He reached out.
His fingers touched the mirror.
The runes flared.
The mirror's surface rippled like water, then cleared, showing not his reflection, but a vast, endless battlefield, where mountains of corpses stretched to the horizon and the sky was a sea of blood.
A single line of text appeared in the mirror, written in a language that burned with power:
**"11th Venerable True Inheritance."**
Xu Yuan smiled.
Not the gentle smile of the prince.
A cold, empty smile.
And in the silence of the ruin, he whispered:
"Finally… my path begins."