After Ravan left the cloud city, an announcement echoed from the City Lord's mansion: all citizens were to return to their homes or respective dwellings and remain inside, no matter what.
Windows were shuttered, doors bolted; the once-bustling streets fell silent under an atmosphere of thick, tangible fear.
When Lucian and Leora finally arrived back at their manor, they were greeted by their servants—who, like everyone else, had faces pale and marked by lingering terror.
Lucian felt the dread still coiled in his own chest, a feeling he couldn't shake. One question kept revolving in his mind: 'Did he read my mind? Just who is he?' But Lucian forced himself to clamp down on those thoughts, knowing that even contemplating Ravan seemed to invite danger.
The memory of Ravan's overpowering presence brought an involuntary shudder.
Leora's face was still drained of color, her expression tight with fear as they settled into the dining room.
They ate their evening meal in near silence, each too consumed by their thoughts to make conversation.
Once the plates were cleared, Lucian and Leora retreated to their respective rooms, the silent tension lulling them into uneasy sleep.
Today, the people of cloud city had seen the legend they used to hear in stories.
The legend of The Born Emperor.
...
Elsewhere, in a dark, inconspicuous room, a figure entered and addressed the man seated in the shadows. "Ravan caused trouble in another city again," he reported, hesitating before adding, "He also… claimed that the royal family is his dog."
The seated man laughed, though the sound was devoid of humor. "And what do you think we can do to him?" he replied coldly. "Just follow the orders. Don't concern yourself with Ravan."
The figure nodded and withdrew, leaving the man alone. Once he was certain he was unobserved, the man's lips twisted in a bitter smile.
He muttered with equal parts of envy and anger, "What are you doing in the countryside, Ravan? Why were your ancestors chosen for power by that man and not us?"
He crushed the cup in his hand, his mind boiling with anger.
...
In the dead of night, while the city lay in fearful silence, a subtle vibration began near the founder emperor's statue. A faint glow appeared at the statue's base, and a small portal flickered into existence.
From it emerged four cloaked figures, each moving silently in a different direction toward the four corners of the city. Once they reached their respective points, they began to chant in low, rhythmic voices.
Strange symbols, glowing with a dim, eerie light, appeared in the air around them, forming an invisible barrier that encircled the entire city.
After a few minutes, the chanting ceased. The formation faded as the four figures converged back at the statue, disappearing through the portal without a trace.
By morning, Cloud City had returned to its usual routine. The streets were filled with the sounds of vendors shouting, people calling to one another, and merchants hawking their wares.
It was as if the fearful events of the previous day had never happened. No one seemed to recall Ravan's arrival, nor the City Lord's urgent announcement.
The terror of the night had been wiped clean from their memories, leaving them blissfully unaware.
The first rays of sunlight pierced through Lucian's window, waking him. Strangely, even he found his mind devoid of any memory of the prior night's events.
The fear, the overwhelming presence of Ravan—all of it had faded into obscurity. He could remember nothing, though an odd sense of emptiness lingered in the back of his mind, a nagging absence that he couldn't place.
Pushing the feeling aside, Lucian went through his morning exercises—a habit he had carried over from his previous life.
Afterward, he took a bath, letting the warm water clear his mind. 'Now that we've settled in Cloud City,' he thought to himself, 'it's time to focus on finding a way back home.'
When he came downstairs, the servants greeted him with their usual politeness. Lucian nodded to them before joining Leora in the kitchen for breakfast.
As they ate, Leora glanced at him with a serious expression. "I have something important to tell you," she said in a low voice. "Come with me after we finish."
Lucian raised an eyebrow but nodded. After they'd eaten, he followed Leora up to her room.
She gestured to the door, and a hulking war puppet stationed nearby stepped forward, positioning itself outside to guard the entrance. Once they were secure, Leora closed the door behind them and locked it.
Turning to Lucian, she spoke in a measured, quiet tone. "According to Father's instructions, there's a hidden room in this manor. It contains resources we might need if we're going to establish a clan here—but it requires your blood to open."
Lucian's brows knitted in confusion. "Why didn't Father tell me about this himself?"
Leora's face turned somber. "You were unconscious when we were attacked, remember?" she replied. "There was no time."
Lucian nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. "You're right. I apologize. Where is this hidden room?"
"Here, in my room." She pointed to the floor. "It's beneath us. I've already made the necessary preparations."
Lucian scanned the floor and noticed spiritual stones arranged in a precise pattern at the four corners of the room. They were connected by lines of white powder, forming a hexagonal shape that pulsed faintly with energy.
Following Leora's instructions, Lucian pricked his finger with a small knife, letting a drop of blood fall onto the center of the floor.
As soon as the blood touched the ground, strange symbols glowed to life across the floor, forming an intricate design. The floor trembled, and a staircase slowly appeared, leading downward into darkness.
Leora stepped back, gesturing to the staircase. "You should go in. I'll keep watch here."
Lucian nodded, taking a final glance at her before descending the steps. The air grew colder as he moved down the narrow passage, dim torches lighting his path with a flickering orange glow.
After walking for several minutes, he arrived at a small, dimly lit room. Inside, he saw a modest table and chair, a few bookshelves, and a single envelope lying on the table.
He picked up the letter and unfolded it, recognizing his father's handwriting.
---
Lucian, it's me, your father. If you're reading this, then our family has been destroyed. I don't know how many of our clan members have survived, so I'll assume the worst.
First and foremost, lay low in Cloud City. Avoid drawing any attention. Your greatest challenge now will be the Ascending Heaven Trial. Our family has evaded this trial for hundred years, but we can't escape it any longer.
Let me explain briefly what the Ascending Heaven Trial entails.
It's a competition held by the country, requiring every clan within its borders to participate. The nature of the trial is always unpredictable, and its purpose is to determine the rank and survival of each family.
The clans are divided into groups according to their cultivation levels:
'First group: Mortal families, who have no cultivation. If they place well, they receive a pill to begin cultivation with limit being Novice Zenith stage.
Those who come last are given three chances. Fail all three times, and they are annihilated.'
Second group: Families with limited cultivation of Novice Zenith stage , receiving a pill to reach the Apprentice Zenith stage if they succeed.
Third group: Families like ours, capped at the Apprentice Zenith stage. If we perform well, we can earn a chance to progress to the next stage. But if we come last, our fate is sealed.
Our family has already ranked last twice. One more failure, and we'll be destroyed.
This is why we've avoided the competition for so long. But our time has run out.
I know this sounds bleak, but survival is your only goal. Focus on not coming last. If by some miracle you place well, you may receive a single pill to advance a major stage.
If that happens, use it wisely—give it to the most talented clan member, or, if you're alone sell it.
If you're considering life as a lone cultivator, know that it's impossible. It is because we have been avoiding tournament for a full century.
So you have no choice but participate in it.
The Ascending Heaven Trial is unavoidable, and you can't escape it any longer.
In this hidden room, I've left some defensive treasures and spiritual stones. I apologize—I constructed this place in haste and couldn't leave much. I'm sorry, Lucian. This is all I can give you.
Survive.
...
Lucian lowered the letter, his expression grim. The weight of his family's legacy, their struggles, and their failures all pressed down on him. The Ascending Heaven Trial loomed like a dark cloud, a test he hadn't anticipated but couldn't evade.
He took a steadying breath, glancing around the small room at the meager resources his father had left him. A few defensive artifacts, some spiritual stones—the remnants of a once-proud clan.
Clenching his fists, Lucian felt a resolve harden within him. His father's words echoed in his mind: 'Survive.' No matter the obstacles, no matter the danger, he would carry on his family's legacy.