In the beginning, sword clashed. There was a large pool of blood flowing freely and agony swept across the land.
Shan Qian, the God of War in great anguish after risking his life to get the Natia Emblem decides to destroy it. Yao Ling, his trusted friend and commander moved close to him while on the battlefield trying to get him to reconsider.
"Shan Qian, you must not destroy it at all cost. Myself and the rest of the warriors can come together to open the Wang Rong Portal to get you back to the Heavenly Realm and....
Shan Qian cut him off.
"I would never leave this battle to you alone, Yao Ling. And I am destroying the Emblem because this is a lost battle. It can't be saved."
"You have lived your entire life for the Heavenly Realm and the entire world. You can't sacrifice yourself and everything now",Yao Ling replied. The pain in his voice could not be concealed.
"The more I have to do it. I would rather watch the world destroyed with all the evil in it than die in this battle and leave the poeple in agony and it's just for a thousand year, a thousand year", Shan Qian said and Yao Ling sensed that it was a hard decision for him as well.
"Or are you scared of perishing?", Shan Qian asked immediately, almost jokingly.
"You know definitely, I am not", Yao Ling retorted sharply.
"Then let's do this together. You protect me while I destroy the Emblem , Shan Qian affirmed.
With those final words, Shan Qian looked at all the Heavenly soldiers still fighting courageously and with tears and longing in his eyes, he unleashed the last shred of his power—and perished alongside the rest.
As predicted, nature took its course.
Life began anew.
From ashes and silence, existence returned.
The entire race was divided into three: Fairy, Jehun and Human. The Human Race considered the weakest because of no spiritual powress lived in a secluded peaceful place, the Human Region. The Fairy and the Jehun Clan took up the Divine Region.
Peace reigned but it was ephemeral —both in intention and dominance.
Ten thousand years passed.
A new era began as new Fairy King and Jejun King have been enthroned.
The new Fairy King ascended the throne and joyfully married his beloved.
Meanwhile, in the Jehun Region, another coronation had taken place. Dressed in dark robes, the people bowed low, chanting their loyalty as the new Jejun King sat upon his obsidian throne.
"My King," a close subordinate said, kneeling with one hand pressed firmly to his chest in a sign of allegiance, "I have received news. The Fairy Queen is in labor. Shall I—"
The Jehun King let out a low, menacing laugh. "No need. My father pact of promise with the Fairies has yet been fulfilled"
Just then, another messenger rushed in. "Report! The Jehun Queen is in labor as well. But the midwives say… only the child or the mother can be saved. Your Majesty, we beg you to make a decision."
The subordinate trembled as he spoke. This king was terrifying—he had poisoned his father and killed his own brother. Ending a servant's life would mean nothing to him.
The Devil King's cold voice cut through the hall like a blade.
"Save the child."
Everyone in the room immediately knelt, heads bowed, chanting in reverence, "My Lord! My Lord!"
---
A thousand years later.
Feng Xiaoyi, the Fairy Princess, was in deep slumber. Beads of sweat over her forehead and her tiny face squinted. It was yet the same cycle again... that same dream.
"Here, Miao. Come to me…" a deep voice echoed through the darkness.
"The wheel of destiny has begun," it whispered. "You will face it sooner than you expect."
"Who are you?" Xiaoyi's small voice asked, fragile yet curious. "What is the wheel of destiny you speak about?"
"You will know when the time comes," the voice responded. "Come to me…"
And this time, for the first time, she moved.
She took a step toward the voice.
But before she could take another, she heard someone calling her name.
"Princess!"
The voice was real—familiar. It was Liao Man, her maid.
"Princess!" Liao Man called again.
Xiaoyi's eyes flew open. She was awake—and slightly annoyed.
She had warned her servants never to disturb her while she slept, especially during her dreams. They were more than just dreams… they were visions. Clues. Pieces of a fate she couldn't yet understand.
The frown remained on her face.
Liao Man, noticing her displeasure, quickly bowed and said apologetically, "Your Highness, the Fairy King seeks your presence."
Xiaoyi said lazily," If it was just a message, the messenger would have left… why disturb me?"
Then still staring at Liao Man, she immediately understood.
"Did Father come himself?" she asked, already rising from her bed.
"Yes, Your Highness," Liao Man confirmed.
Xiaoyi's heart skipped. She ran out of the room, her white robe trailing behind her like mist. She was breathtaking—fair, flawless skin, round expressive eyes, a gently pointed nose, and soft, glossy lips. Her form was elegant, her every movement graceful.
She soon arrived at MuBong Palace. She burst into her father's palace, worried. "Father! What's wrong? Are you okay?"
The Fairy King let out a hearty laugh, his eyes warm as he looked at his daughter.
She stood before him, her hair falling softly down her back, her face full of worry. She looked like a child—and to him, she always would.
He gently stroked her hair. "Yi'er, I just wanted to see you. That's all."
"But Liao Man said you came down to my palace yourself...," Xiaoyi began, but stopped as a familiar smell hit her nose.
Durian cake.
Her favorite.
She smiled, abandoning her suspicion as she picked up the cake and began to eat. The king watched her silently, his heart heavy with worry.
The barrier between the Fairy and Devil Regions was weakening.
And he didn't know how to protect his carefree daughter from the impending storm.
"Yi'er," he said gently. "Take good care of yourself. Don't go outside these days, alright?"
Xiaoyi nodded, slightly confused, but trusting.
After parting with her father, she decided to take a walk through the garden.
That's when she saw him.
A young man, soaked and unconscious, lying lazily on the grass like he had fallen from the sky.
He was striking—almost unnaturally handsome. Water clung to his dark lashes and hair. His robe clung to his well-formed frame.
Xiaoyi blinked in disbelief and slowly reached out to touch his face.
But before her fingers could make contact, a hand grabbed hers.
She gasped, fear gripping her chest.
His grip was strong—unyielding. But then, she looked into his eyes.
Those brown eyes.
And she forgot how to be afraid.
Pain, fear—everything melted away in those eyes. She was completely lost in them.
Then he spoke. A cold voice, deep and sharp, echoed through her very bones.
Her brows drew together in confusion.
That voice... it was the same one from her dreams.
Who was he?
If this was truly the man from her visions, then she had a thousand questions to ask.