"Did I ever say that?" Yan Ziyao rubbed her forehead, deep in thought. "Doesn't matter. First, tell me—what is a *Forgotten Master*?"
"A Forgotten Master is… someone who practices the Forgotten Arts…" Huang Jinlong hesitated, his voice faltering.
"Huh?!" Yan Ziyao's gaze suddenly sharpened, a frosty chill flashing in her eyes.
Huang Jinlong felt a shiver run through him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Summoning his courage, he took a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and declared loudly, "To never yield, never despair, never bow, and never give up—that is the creed of a Forgotten Master!"
Yan Ziyao's icy glare softened into something gentler. She nodded slightly. "Good. Now, tell me—which profession among Forgotten Masters is the most promising?"
"Uh… it's…" Huang Jinlong stammered, his mind racing. He tried to recall everything his master had taught him over the past three years—Fire Masters, Creation Masters, Spirit Summoners, Swordmasters… Which one was it? No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't remember.
"Ah, just as I thought. You lack the potential to be my disciple. What a pity." Yan Ziyao sighed, seemingly relieved, and turned over in her recliner. Wrapping herself in a threadbare gray cloak, she prepared to nap.
"What does this have to do with potential? Wait, Master, I remember now!" Huang Jinlong raised his hand eagerly. "Troubleshooter Masters! The most promising one is the Troubleshooter Master!"
Yan Ziyao sat upright abruptly, flinging her cloak aside. "A Troubleshooter Master? Are you sure?"
"Yes, Master! That's what you told me!" Huang Jinlong said, lowering his head nervously.
"Hmmph." Yan Ziyao let out a cold snort. "Let me tell you something. I've never said which profession is the most promising. It's your own choice."
"Wha—? Master?" Huang Jinlong stared at her in stunned silence.
"But since you've chosen Troubleshooter Master, and it aligns with my own inclinations, I'll teach you the ways of a Forgotten Master." She smiled faintly.
"You will? Thank you, Master!" Huang Jinlong cried out, elated.
"Before teaching you, let me apologize first," Yan Ziyao said, breaking into a chuckle. "You've always thought of the Forgotten Master's art as a single lineage. That's just a misconception common among ordinary folk. In truth, there are academies specifically dedicated to teaching the Forgotten Arts, supported by national funding. These institutions gather the most elite Forgotten Masters from all fields as instructors, offering their knowledge to promising and ambitious disciples. No matter how skilled I am, I can't compare to the collective experience of so many teachers. The fastest way to become a Forgotten Master is to study at these academies. Retreating to practice in isolation would only yield half the results with double the effort."
"Go to an academy for Forgotten Masters? Does that mean I have to leave Yanque Tower? I'd have to leave my hometown of Pen Prefecture and head to some foreign land?" Huang Jinlong exclaimed in shock.
"Exactly. It's the quickest path. I understand that leaving your homeland to travel far away is a tough decision for someone of your age, especially a wealthy young master like you," Yan Ziyao replied with an empathetic glance.
"Master, please tell me the addresses of these academies! I'll leave tonight—no, I'll leave right now!" Huang Jinlong shouted, excitement lighting up his face.
"You're that eager?" Yan Ziyao looked at him, startled.
"Master, you've never met my father, my mother, or my second brother. I need to get out of here, far away from them. Master, I beg you to take me away!" Huang Jinlong knelt and kowtowed repeatedly.
"Fine, then. You have the courage to walk ten thousand miles; you'll go far," Yan Ziyao said with a nod of approval. "I've already written a recommendation letter for you. On the ninth day of the ninth month at three quarters past the hour of the Tiger, head to the summit of the Cauldron Peak at Xianglu Mountain in Pen Prefecture. There will be someone there conducting pre-selections for disciples. If you're chosen, you'll have the opportunity to enter one of the finest academies for Forgotten Masters on the entire Tuo Continent: the South-North Celestial Gate. Remember, the selection process happens only once in a lifetime. If you fail, you'll never have another chance."
"Yes, yes," Huang Jinlong replied earnestly, tucking the letter carefully into his chest.
"Good. But before I teach you, there's one more thing," Yan Ziyao said slowly.
"One more thing?" Huang Jinlong asked, his patience wearing thin.
"Watch your attitude. Do you even see me as your master?" Yan Ziyao snapped, her eyes sharp.
"Yes, yes, of course!" Huang Jinlong quickly shrank back, his head bowed like a chastised child.
"My greatest regret in life is…" Yan Ziyao trailed off, her face clouding over with a mixture of emotions.
"Oh…" Huang Jinlong sighed helplessly. He rubbed his sore knees and lifted his head, bracing himself for another of his master's cryptic reflections.
Years later, whenever he recalled this moment, a chill would creep over Huang Jinlong's heart. This was the first time he witnessed the true and terrifying power of the Forgotten Arts.
"My greatest regret in life is…" Yan Ziyao's words lingered in his ears, but her figure seemed to dissolve like a morning mist before his eyes.
"Crack!" A faint sound reached his ears, followed by a sudden downpour of shattered tiles, dirt, and debris. It poured over him like a waterfall, leaving him covered in dust.
Before he could react, an invisible force shoved him gently but firmly into a corner of the room. Around him, pale azure light shimmered, and five thin sheets of mystical ice emerged from the corners of the house. They swiftly converged into a translucent cube, shielding him from all directions.
At last, Huang Jinlong managed to look up. Above him, the roof had been blasted apart, leaving a gaping hole that allowed the dim light of dusk to filter in. The twilight cast an ethereal glow over the destruction, turning the scene into a surreal painting of gold and blue.
"Boom!" A deafening roar filled the air. Huang Jinlong felt his ears ache and heat up as blood trickled from them. His heart seemed to be squeezed by an unseen hand, his vision swimming with golden sparks. The walls of the house crumbled like a flimsy matchbox, the roof ripped away and spinning into the distant sky. The ground beneath his feet turned into a turbulent sea, the solid earth boiling like molten lava, quaking violently and tossing him about like a leaf in a storm.
Huang Jinlong's hearing and touch abruptly vanished amidst the chaos. His entire body was engulfed by an unbearable numbness that made him wish for death. Oddly, though, his vision sharpened to an uncanny degree. Through the fractured remains of the roof, he could clearly see fragments of stone and chunks of brick disintegrating into fine powder within the swirling air, lifting clouds of gray dust that danced in the light.
"Yan Ziyao, next year on this day…" A deep, sinister voice pierced through the cacophony, cutting into Huang Jinlong's senses like a blade.
"…will be your death anniversary!" Yan Ziyao's voice followed, shattering the oppressive gloom with a commanding tone that blended like chimes of gold and jade, overpowering the malevolent roar.
"Aaah!" A blood-curdling scream echoed amidst the swirling dust. A spatter of blood burst against the pale azure walls of mystical ice surrounding Huang Jinlong, painting them with streaks of crimson in eerie patterns. Through the haze, he glimpsed fragments of flesh and a grotesque eyeball tumbling down from the chaos above.
"Dear heavens!" Huang Jinlong shrieked, immediately shutting his eyes and muttering frantic prayers. "May my luck prevail—let me see and hear nothing!"
"Yan Ziyao, you wench! Watch me kill your lover first!" Another voice, shriller and more vicious, rang out from somewhere in the encroaching darkness.
"Oh, thank heavens, they're after Master's lover," Huang Jinlong muttered in relief. "It's better than me dying."
"Clang!" A metallic explosion erupted directly in front of him, resonating like a thunderous whip crack and setting his already fragile eardrums ringing in agony.
Huang Jinlong dared to open his eyes and saw an iron sparrow lodged against the wall of mystical ice before him. The bird's feathers bristled and spread, each one resembling a sea anemone's tendril, while its beak gouged aggressively at the thin ice barrier in an attempt to break through.
Yet, the mystical ice held its ground. The cold consumed the sparrow's vitality, gradually transforming it into a frozen sculpture. It remained motionless, its blood-red eyes glaring unyieldingly at Huang Jinlong even in death.
"What's going on? Could they be targeting me?" Huang Jinlong wondered, his face pale with disbelief. "No way, right?"
"Clang!" Another deafening crash echoed. This time, Huang Jinlong felt his chest churn with nausea, and he doubled over, vomiting bitter bile. Trembling, he turned his head toward the source of the noise. There, embedded in another wall of ice, was a curved, crescent-like spike. Upon closer inspection, Huang Jinlong realized it wasn't a spike at all—it was a beast's claw, severed and polished into a deadly projectile.
"A flying weapon… Could it be a Flying Weapons Master?" Huang Jinlong murmured to himself, his voice shaky.
As he stood frozen, a loud hum resounded, followed by dazzling flashes of white light streaking through the distant darkness. Explosions followed in rapid succession, shaking the air and filling his ears with a piercing noise. His body went limp as he collapsed to the ground, curling into a fetal position with his hands clamped over his ears. Peering up, he saw one of the icy walls riddled with countless claw-shaped projectiles, their eerie glow casting a ghostly pallor over his shelter.
"It really is me they're after," Huang Jinlong thought miserably, tears welling up in his eyes. "But I'm not Master's lover!"
A sharp crackling sound abruptly drew his attention. To his horror, the ice barrier protecting him began to fissure, the cracks spreading like a spiderweb. In the distance, the telltale flashes of white light heralded another barrage of deadly projectiles.
Huang Jinlong muttered helplessly, watching the incoming storm with resignation,"What should I be in my next life…"