Golden light spilled across the treetops as the morning mist clung low to the earth. Birds chirped softly, disturbed only by the gentle rustle of robes threading through the underbrush.
Mo Yuchen moved with practiced ease across the forest floor, a satchel slung over his shoulder. Behind him, the invisible dome barrier shimmered faintly before sealing again. The invisible barrier had parted at his touch—a silent testament to his belonging, yet also a reminder of what lay beyond.
He crouched near a fallen log, carefully picking golden-rooted ginseng and bloodgrass leaves. The scent of dew and bark lingered.
Then came a shrill bird cry—sharp, anxious.
Mo Yuchen tensed and focused on hearing. His dragon and beast hearing skills were outstanding, and with years of practice, he could do what others couldn't even achieve with magical hearing devices.
About five li away, Commander Kong Yanzhou stood atop a rocky hill with a magical brass device that was capable of detecting high-order bird forms such as a phoenix. The arrow in the compass like device moved and settled, pointing deeper in the forest.
A scout ran up. "Commander, the Pingxiao villagers said a phoenix descended in the forest ahead. All they could tell was the direction because it was far away."
Kong Yanzhou's voice was cold. "Go out now. Search every area, including the stream. Bring me the phoenix."
The soldiers dispersed quickly.
Mo Yuchen slipped into the shadows, breathing softly. His gaze hardened.
They're hunting her.
Mo Yuchen remembered what his elders had always taught them. "Strike down those who threaten your family. Those who seek the dome's heart," Elder Xuanji had said.
In an instant, like a hidden leopard following its prey, Mo Yuchen ran—fast and smooth. He raced past giant trees, rolled down slopes, jumped over rocks, and swung over branches. Before the group of soldiers moved even half a li, Mo Yuchen was camouflaged right under their plain sight yet unseen.
He placed a palm on a nearby tree trunk. The bark shifted. With a sudden burst, a cloud of sharpened twigs exploded from the canopy, striking the first group of guards. Shouts rang out.
From the forest floor, rocks lifted, shaped by qi, and hurled in a storm. More fell. Water from a nearby stream spiraled into the air and split into piercing droplets, slicing like needles through armor.
All without Mo Yuchen being seen.
As the last squad was killed, Kong Yanzhou himself stepped forward. He partially transformed into his bird form, an Ironwing Raptor. His wings flexed—feathers dark and metallic, gleaming like blades, yet he maintained his human body form. This partial transformation immediately gave Mo Yuchen an idea of the commander's cultivation level—3rd stage of the Intermediate Realm.
"So you're the one who has been attacking my men?" Kong Yanzhao said furiously. "Let's see if you can withstand my Shadowfeather Burst."
He launched skyward with a gust of wind that bent trees and scattered ash. Then—he vanished.
In the next instant, dozens of shadow-infused feathers exploded from the sky. They curved mid-air, howling like ghosts, twisting toward Mo Yuchen with terrifying speed.
The Shadowfeather Burst was a deadly technique. Each feather hummed with compressed wind qi, sharp enough to pierce spirit stone, and fast enough to tear through barriers before they could be formed.
Mo Yuchen spun into motion, sliding between threads of death. He used the forest to deflect and redirect—one feather he kicked into bark, another he shattered with his sleeve blade.
But one grazed his arm. Blood bloomed.
In answer, blue flame erupted from his core. The air warped. Shining dragon scales appeared into view along his arms and collarbones. His hair, already dark, shimmered with threads of electric blue.
Kong Yanzhou landed, jaw tight with disbelief. "An Advanced Realm... royal dragon?!"
Mo Yuchen exhaled once, his breath calm despite the heat burning in his veins. With a calm breath, Mo Yuchen summoned his sword, sleek and flame-lined, humming with silent force.
The clash that followed was feral.
The clash was swift and brutal. Feather and sword collided mid-air. Trees shook from the force of each strike. Mo Yuchen's movements blurred—he spun, dodged, countered with glowing steel.
A final arc of the dragon's sword surged with blue fire and carved through the commander's side. A cry split the trees. Kong Yanzhou stumbled, wings scorched, retreating skyward in a blur of metal and blood.
The wind died.
Mo Yuchen stood still, breath deep, sword low at his side. His qi roiled inside—unstable, trembling. It churned wildly, dangerously.
A breakthrough is near, he realized. But not here. Not now.
He closed his eyes briefly and pressed down the surge.
Then, with a whisper of displaced air, he vanished into the forest, leaving behind only the charred trees and broken feathers of the men who came hunting fire.
***
A shimmer tore through the air like the skin of a pond being pierced. Mo Yuchen reappeared within the safety of the dome, stumbling slightly as his boots touched the ancient slabs of the central courtyard.
He dropped to one knee, breathing shallow. His meridians pulsed erratically, qi flooding in uneven waves—racing too fast in some channels, stagnating in others. A chaotic meridian backlash—the danger that came with resisting a forced breakthrough. If not stabilized soon, it could permanently rupture his cultivation base.
A pair of boots stepped into view. Robes the color of ancient ink folded as Elder Xuanji knelt beside him, his face unreadable.
"You're burning up," Xuanji murmured, placing two fingers at Mo Yuchen's wrist.
Then, without hesitation, he brought his palm close to Mo Yuchen's upper back. A subtle glow formed where skin met spirit energy. A stream of refined, stabilizing qi flowed from the elder's core into Mo Yuchen's. Not aggressive, not overbearing—just enough to anchor. It moved like cool river water through Mo Yuchen's turbulent meridians, soothing, guiding, and suppressing the wild surges. Soon, the storm inside him ebbed.
"…Thank you," he managed, voice hoarse.
Elder Xuanji gave a faint nod. "You are very close to a breakthrough. You need to rest."
"Something happened." Mo Yuchen straightened slowly, still kneeling. Across from him stood the other two elders—Elder Doubao, arms crossed, and Elder Lianyu, her robes faintly glowing in the sunlight, eyes sharp and intent.
"There was a Bird Clan team. Commander Kong Yanzhou led them," Mo Yuchen began. "They used a phoenix-tracker compass. They were looking for the phoenix that flew into the forest last night."
"I wiped out his entire group," he said calmly. "Only the commander is left. It was his Ironwing Raptor form that landed a hit on me—but he's in worse shape. I would've silenced him too, if not for the breakthrough flare-up."
Elder Doubao gave a grunt of approval. Elder Xuanji, however, frowned slightly. "Are you sure only one is alive?"
"Yes," Mo Yuchen said quietly. "But… my hair changed. The commander saw it. He said I was a royal dragon…"
As he spoke, his internal qi trembled again—swelling, curling around his spine like coiled flame. He inhaled sharply and took a deep breath to steady himself, the ripple in his aura slowly settling.
The elders exchanged glances—brief but heavy with unspoken meaning.
"Come," Elder Doubao said, stepping forward. "You'll return to your quarters. I'll prepare a decocted medicine to soothe the backlash. It will keep your qi from tearing itself apart."
Mo Yuchen nodded faintly and allowed the older man to guide him away.
On the other hand, Xuanji's gaze flicked to Elder Lianyu. A silent signal passed.
She gave the faintest of nods.
Then, without a word, she stepped back. In a flare of light, she vanished, teleporting without a sound, drawn toward the forest, toward the disturbance.
***
Kong Yanzhou stumbled into Pingxiao, blood staining his armor, one arm hanging limp. The metallic feathers of his partial transformation had long since receded, leaving only torn fabric and dried streaks of qi-burns across his chest.
The town's outer lanterns flickered against the late afternoon haze, and the first cries of alarm rose from the gatehouse.
"Commander Kong? Gods—someone get the physician!"
Two guards rushed to catch him as his knees buckled. His eyes, wide and unfocused, darted around as if still fighting shadows.
"He is a royal dragon," he whispered, the words cracked from thirst. "Blue hair. They escaped the royal dungeon… the two intruders… royal blood... he is a royal dragon."
"What?" one of the guards asked, alarmed. "What dungeon? Commander, you're not making sense—"
The town physicians quickly got to work, stabilizing him as best they could. The rest of the afternoon blurred into attendants running to bring water and medicine.
***
That evening, Pingxiao lay quiet. The streets had dimmed, shop lanterns shuttered, and tea house doors closed with slow clicks. A few night watchmen made their rounds, unaware of the shadow threading on the roofs above them.
The sky was heavy with stars.
Somewhere in the woods, an owl cried once and went silent.
Then, the air shifted.
A flicker of pressure passed through the inn's corridors, so faint it didn't trigger a single charm. No sound. No warning.
Inside the commander's chamber, the single candle dimmed. The flame tilted toward the window, then stood still.
Elder Lianyu stood at the foot of the bed.
She had arrived without sound. Her robes were a quiet cascade of dusk-blue and black, like twilight wrapped around a dark blade. The faint trace of feathers decorated her collar, the mark of her bloodline: the Night Heron, a creature of silence and precision.
Kong Yanzhou stirred. A prickle of dread brushed the back of his neck. His eyes fluttered open—then widened.
"You—"
He never finished the sentence.
In a blur, Lianyu crossed the space. Two fingers tapped the air, and a soundless ripple of qi sliced forward like a dark crescent blade.
His throat tightened. No pain. No breath.
Kong Yanzhou's eyes glazed, confusion etched into his final expression. His body slumped backward onto the bedding—whole, but lifeless.
Elder Lianyu watched for three breaths longer, ensuring the job was clean.
Then she turned. Her silhouette dissolved into shadow and vanished from the room, not a whisper left in her wake.
And with it, the last spoken truth about the royal dragon was erased from the world.