In a wasteland, the setting sun bathed the damp yellow earth in a blood-red glow. The lingering scent of blood wafted into the distance, attracting droves of vultures to circle above.
A desolate city stood eerily quiet beneath them, and beyond the reach of the sunset, a massive earthen castle emerged. This was the northern Qiong clan — the dwelling of the Qiong Qi clan, one of the eight royal clans.
In a hidden chamber, the third young master suddenly spat a mouthful of blood, abruptly awakening from his spirit world meditation. His complexion was ashen, his eyes blazing with fury.
"What happened to the young master?"
A group of guards, alerted by the scent of blood, rushed into the room. Towering in stature and bearing peculiar appearances, they were only slightly less noticeable than Third Young Master Qiong.
"Bring me a pen and paper!" the young master bellowed.
