The sky roared as flames devoured everything in sight. The scent of burnt wood and blood mixed in the air, choking the life out of the once-peaceful village. Screams faded into the night, swallowed by the endless darkness that had come without mercy.
Amidst the chaos, a lone figure ran through the burning streets—his heart hammering in his chest.
Yunfeng.
His hands were shaking, his breath ragged as he sprinted past the bodies of those he once called family. His mind refused to accept the truth, but his eyes told him everything.
His home was gone.
His family was dead.
Or so he thought.
A shadow moved in the distance.
Atop the ruined temple, where the sacred bell once stood, a figure loomed. Their presence was suffocating, their aura drenched in an ancient, forbidden power. The moon's glow barely touched their form, revealing only the outline of a tall, cloaked being with glowing red eyes.
It was them.
The Devourers of Heaven.
A name Yunfeng had only heard in whispers and nightmares.
The being tilted its head, as if sensing something. Then, its voice—a deep, haunting whisper—echoed through the ruins.
"So… the last of the Azure Dragon's blood still breathes."
Yunfeng's body turned cold.
They were hunting him.
But before he could move, before he could even react—
A gust of freezing wind swept through the battlefield.
And then, he saw her.
The Shadow of the Past
The wind howled through the ruins, carrying the scent of blood and burning wood. The night was silent now. The screams had long since faded, swallowed by the endless darkness.
Yunfeng stood frozen.
The village—the place he called home—was nothing but ashes and bodies. His sword trembled in his grip, slick with the blood of the enemies he had cut down. His breathing was ragged, but the pain in his chest was not from battle.
It was from the truth.
His family was gone.
His people were gone.
Or so he thought.
A chill ran through the air—an unnatural cold that made the flames flicker and die. The wind carried a whisper, a voice so faint it felt like a forgotten memory.
That was when he saw her.
A woman in white stood atop the broken shrine, her robes flowing in the ghostly wind. The moon's silver glow illuminated her face—cold, unreadable, and filled with something unspoken.
Her dark eyes locked onto him, but there was no relief, no kindness in her gaze.
She was not an ally.
She was not an enemy.
She was something else.
Yunfeng raised his sword instinctively. "Who are you?" His voice was hoarse, but steady.
The woman did not answer.
Instead, she lifted her hand.
And the moment she did—the world around him twisted.
The flames vanished. The ruins shifted. The sky turned black.
Yunfeng's heart pounded as a sudden vision flooded his mind—a battlefield drenched in blood, a temple collapsing, a sword piercing through his chest.
And the one holding the blade…
Was her.
Yunfeng's vision blurred. His body felt like it was sinking into an abyss, the world twisting around him. The battlefield, the flames, the corpses—they were all gone.
In their place, a memory that was not his own unfolded before his eyes.
A temple, standing tall beneath a blood-red sky. The sound of swords clashing, the cries of warriors being cut down. And at the center of it all—
Her.
The woman in white.
Her robes were no longer pure and flowing—they were stained in blood. Her blade gleamed with an ancient power, its aura thick with the weight of something divine… and something cursed.
And in front of her, kneeling, his body broken—
Was him.
No. Not him.
Someone who looked exactly like him.
An ancestor? A past life? A vision? Yunfeng didn't know. But the pain he felt, the heavy pressure in his chest, was real.
The woman's expression remained unreadable as she lifted her sword.
"This must be done."
Her voice was cold, distant—but there was sorrow beneath it.
The blade came down.
The moment it pierced his heart, Yunfeng's body jolted back into the present—gasping, shaking, his forehead drenched in sweat.
The vision was gone. The village ruins surrounded him once more.
But the woman in white still stood there.
Watching him.
Waiting.
His fingers tightened around his sword. "Who… are you?" His voice was unsteady. "Why… did I see that?"
The woman tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes unreadable.
"Because," she said softly, "this is not the first time we've met."
---
What happens next?
Now that Yunfeng has seen a fragment of a forgotten past, the mystery deepens.
Who is the woman?
Why did she kill his past self?
Is she an enemy, or something else entirely?
Yunfeng's breath was heavy. The woman's words echoed in his mind.
"This is not the first time we've met."
His grip on his sword tightened. The cold night air felt heavier now, like an unseen force was pressing down on him.
"Who are you?" he asked again. This time, his voice was steadier.
The woman in white remained silent for a moment, as if deciding whether to answer. The wind stirred her robes, making her look almost unreal, like a ghost from a forgotten legend.
Then, finally—she spoke.
"Ling Xueyao."
The name sent a strange chill down his spine.
It was familiar. Too familiar.
But he knew—he had never met her before.
Yunfeng's eyes narrowed. "Why did I see that vision? Why do I feel like I know you?"
Ling Xueyao lowered her gaze for a moment, then looked at him with something almost like regret.
"Because the past is not truly gone," she said softly. "And neither are its mistakes."
Before he could ask what she meant—
A loud crack echoed through the ruins.
Yunfeng spun around. The air around them had shifted. A heavy, suffocating presence had appeared, spreading like a dark wave.
And then, from the shadows of the broken village—they emerged.
The Devourers of Heaven.
Their golden masks gleamed in the moonlight, their robes marked with ancient runes of destruction. The leader stepped forward, his voice a deep, unholy whisper.
"You were warned, child of the Azure Dragon."
Yunfeng felt his heartbeat quicken. They had come for him.
No—they had come for both of them.
He turned to Ling Xueyao.
She did not move. She did not flinch.
She simply sighed, and for the first time, Yunfeng saw something flicker in her dark eyes.
Rage.
"You should not have come here," she murmured.
And in the next instant—
The temperature dropped.
The very air froze.
And then, her blade appeared in her hand.
---
What Happens Next?
The first battle begins—Ling Xueyao reveals her power.
Yunfeng fights alongside her, but something about her combat style feels too familiar.
The Devourers speak about his bloodline, hinting at a deeper conspiracy.
Ling Xueyao warns Yunfeng: "You are not ready to know the truth."
The Fire That Burns the Past
Scene 1: The Battle That Shouldn't Be
Dark clouds cover the sky as Yunfeng stands at the peak of an abandoned mountain, his body trembling. The flames of Pantherd Flame swirl around him, wild and uncontrollable. His breath is ragged, and his mind is screaming—he can't stop the fire from spreading inside him.
A sharp pain strikes his chest. Suddenly, the world around him fades.
When he opens his eyes again… he is no longer on the mountain.
He is standing in the middle of a war.
Scene 2: The Vision of Jian Xuanlong
Flames devour everything. Countless warriors in Azure Dragon robes fall to the ground, lifeless. A great battle is raging in front of him.
At the center of it, a man in black and gold armor stands tall, his long hair tied back, his face dark with rage and sorrow.
Jian Xuanlong.
But this is not the villain Yunfeng expected.
Xuanlong's sword is not aimed at the Azure Dragon Sect. Instead, he is standing between two opposing forces—as if trying to stop the war.
Yunfeng watches as Xuanlong shouts at an unseen figure:
"You don't understand! If you don't destroy it now, it will consume the world!"
"This power should not exist! The heavens never created it!"
A voice answers from the shadows, cold and unforgiving.
"You are wrong, Xuanlong. The flames of the Pantherd are our legacy."
"You will either accept it… or be erased."
Scene 3: A Sudden End
Yunfeng tries to move, to speak, to reach Xuanlong. But before he can, a golden light explodes in front of him.
Xuanlong screams as countless chains of divine energy wrap around him. His body is dragged into the void.
The flames of war grow stronger. The world shakes—
And then, everything shatters.
Scene 4: Awakening in Reality
Yunfeng gasps as he snaps back to the present. He is on his knees, sweat dripping from his face. The flames of Pantherd Flame have died down—but the memory of what he saw burns inside him.
He looks at his hands, his heart pounding.
Jian Xuanlong… was trying to stop the war.
The Azure Dragon Sect was hiding something.
And the Pantherd Flame… might not be a blessing, but a curse.
A shadow moves nearby. Ling Xueyao is watching him, her gaze unreadable.
"What did you see, Yunfeng?" she asks.
Yunfeng doesn't know how to answer.
Because now, he isn't sure who the real enemy is.
The Ghost Festival – Whispers of the Dead
Scene 1: A Night of Spirits
The air is thick with the scent of burning incense. Rows of red lanterns flicker in the night, their light swaying like ghostly souls. Villagers move through the darkened streets, placing food offerings and joss paper on wooden altars.
It is Zhongyuan Festival—the Ghost Festival.
A night when the gates of the underworld open, allowing lost souls to roam freely.
Yunfeng walks through the temple courtyard, his gaze scanning the ritual offerings. The monks chant prayers, their voices blending with the distant rustling of trees. He feels something watching him.
A sudden gust of wind extinguishes the nearest lantern.
For a moment, the world falls silent.
Then, from the darkness, a voice—low, distant, and full of sorrow—whispers his name.
"Yunfeng..."
The Vision Begins
The moment Jian Xuanlong takes another step, the world shatters.
Yunfeng feels his body freeze—his heartbeat slows, his vision blurs, and the red lanterns flicker as if struggling to stay alight.
"This... isn't real."
Yet, the pain is.
His chest tightens. His mind burns. A flood of unfamiliar memories surges inside him, like a river breaking through a shattered dam.
Then—darkness.
---
Scene 2: A Past He Never Knew
When Yunfeng opens his eyes, he is no longer in the temple courtyard.
He stands on the edge of a vast battlefield. The air is thick with the scent of blood and burning corpses. In the distance, a grand sect's fortress crumbles, its once-majestic walls now reduced to smoking ruins.
The Azure Dragon Sect.
He knows this place.
But he shouldn't.
Then he sees him.
Jian Xuanlong.
But this Xuanlong is different. His long black robes are stained with blood, his face half-covered in crimson. His golden eyes burn with rage and sorrow.
And before him stands—
A figure in Azure Dragon Sect robes, holding a sword dripping with blood.
---
Scene 3: The Betrayal Unfolds
Yunfeng watches, his pulse racing.
The figure in Azure Dragon robes speaks, his voice eerily familiar.
"You are too dangerous to be left alive."
Xuanlong clenches his blade, his voice a whisper of betrayal.
"You… You were one of us."
The unknown figure's grip tightens.
"The sect's survival demands your sacrifice."
Then—a flash of silver.
Blood spills into the dirt.
Jian Xuanlong falls.
Yunfeng gasps, staggering back, his mind screaming. Why does this feel real? Why does his heart ache as if he had lived this moment himself?
Then the betrayer turns toward him.
And Yunfeng finally sees his face.
And everything he knew shatters.
---