Soldiers crowded outside the door, steel murmuring against leather, fury vibrating through their boots. Inside the room, Lan stood, composed, but simmering with quiet annoyance. She didn't flinch at the noise, didn't panic.
She simply turned, scanning the ground.
And there it was.
A black ceremonial cane lay beside her, as if dropped by fate itself. Its obsidian body was sleek, ending in a sculpted dragon's head—its jaws frozen in a silent roar. The metal seemed to shimmer, alive with dormant will.
Lan knelt, picked it up slowly, her fingers curling around the grip. It was cold to the touch, yet familiar. Like something pulled from memory.
I saw this in the dream trailer...
This cane... It's mine.
She rose to her feet, eyes still fixed on the weapon as if testing its balance, measuring its potential.
I wish I had something better, she thought. A spear... maybe a sword. Something meant for war.
But this... this will do.
A pulse of energy whispered through the cane, subtle and sharp.
Outside the room, footsteps closed in. Anger. Authority. Bloodlust.
Inside, Lan adjusted her grip. The dragon-shaped head of the cane glowed faintly, casting a brief light—tinged with pale green—across her wrist.
That light surged suddenly, pushing against her hand with force. The cane slipped for a moment, but Lan caught it before it hit the ground.
She looked at it closely. The dragon's face slowly turned from facing left to tilting upward. The green glow intensified from within its mouth, and it began to reshape, forming into a sharp metal blade at the top of the cane. The shaft extended, stretching into a proper spear.
Then, from the base of the spear, a dark green color started to spread like a slow-moving serpent. It climbed partway up the shaft and settled just beneath the dragon's head.
The light faded. The transformation stopped.
And the weapon now rested firmly in Lan's hands.
Wait… what the— Lan stared at the weapon in her hands, confusion flickering across her face. I just thought of a weapon… and this cane transformed into one.
She narrowed her eyes slightly, processing the moment.
So it responds to my thoughts. That means it's tied to me… this is my signature weapon.
Her gaze dropped to the sleek spear.
If it can turn into a spear, maybe it can become other weapons too…
She paused.
But no—I'm not interested in swords or other weapons. Spears are what I love. Always have.
Raising her head, her ocean-blue eyes locked onto the soldiers beyond the door.
Enough thinking, she whispered in her mind. Time to test this new weapon… and whatever unknown power lies inside me.
She stepped forward, spear held low, then thrust it upward in a sharp arc—
—and for a split second, the world shifted.
The dimly lit room disappeared. In its place stood a quiet clearing under a pale dawn. Her clothes were simple training robes, her feet bare against the cold earth.
Lan wore a simple white martial arts uniform, its sleeves tied neatly at her wrists, the fabric light enough to flow with her movements yet sturdy enough to endure harsh training. Her hair, loosely tied back, framed her calm but determined expression.
In her left hand rested a long wooden staff, the grain worn smooth from constant practice. Her right hand was raised, palm open and facing forward, as if stopping an invisible opponent against the wall. The staff remained behind her back in a ready stance, its tip barely grazing the floor.
A voice echoed from across the room.
"I've told you a hundred times—sword types are better. That long stick could hurt you, too, you know."
Lan turned her head toward the door, just past the electric switchboard and a small table with a glass jug filled with water. The door creaked open, revealing a girl with sleek black hair and eyes so dark they gleamed red under the flickering ceiling light. She stepped in and closed the door behind her softly.
"You've got a problem with it a hundred times, Mei?" Lan replied, irritation lacing her voice.
Without waiting for a response, Lan began to move. She swung the staff in a swift arc, spinning her entire body with it. The wood cut through the air with a sharp whoosh, her stance strong and fluid as she leapt off the ground, pivoting mid-air to bring the staff around like a shield. She landed firmly, left leg forward, gripping the staff in her left hand, her posture grounded and resolute.
Mei sighed, folding her arms on top of the table as she leaned forward to watch.
"This isn't for girls, you know. In our culture… in China's history… women learned martial arts with their hands, not weapons. Spears, staves, blades… those were for men."
Lan turned her gaze toward her, her expression calm but her eyes glinting with silent defiance.
"I'm sure everyone says that." Her voice lowered, sharp as steel. "But honestly, I don't care what people say. I'll learn what I love… and if you're going to talk shit, either leave or stay quiet and watch."
Mei blinked, silent.
Lan shifted her focus back to her staff. She began to swing again, stepping forward in powerful, disciplined motions. Her strikes were smooth yet heavy, the force behind them vibrating through the room. She ended with a final thrust downward, the tip of the staff cracking against the floor with such impact it echoed like thunder—proof of the strength she'd been cultivating alone.
And then—
The training room faded.
Her clothes changed in a blink, her staff now forged into dark metal with a gleaming spearhead. The wooden floor became stone, the warm training light replaced by flickering lanterns in the dim hall. Lan swung her spear in the same arc as before, but now soldiers fell before her like withered leaves against a storm. Dark green aura coiled around her and her weapon, swirling with the same force that once resonated within her wooden staff.
This time, her training was no mere practice. It was a battle.
And she was ready.
While cutting down the soldiers in her path, Lan sprinted toward the massive doors at the end of the hall. The polished marble floors and ornate golden pillars made it clear—she was inside a royal palace.
She ran swiftly, spear slicing through any soldier foolish enough to block her way. But as she neared the exit, she saw dozens more rushing in from both sides, forming a wide circle around her. Lan skidded to a stop, bending forward slightly, spear braced in her hand. Her eyes darted around, searching for any opening to escape.
She clenched her teeth, confusion flickering across her face, quickly replaced by simmering anger as she glared at the soldiers surrounding her.
From the front line, a man stepped forward. He wore darker armor, decorated with a silver lining—a sign of rank. His voice trembled slightly, but he forced it into a tight command.
"You… you're surrounded from all sides. There's no escape. Surrender now and confess… confess that you killed our king."
Lan stared at him, a strained smile spreading across her lips, panic and irritation mixing in her gaze. She let out a small, humourless laugh.
"Confess that I killed your king? You're saying it like you're the ones who killed him and now pinning it on me."
She tightened her grip on her spear, eyes sharp as a blade.
"Or is it because I'm just a girl, so blaming me is easier for you?"
The commander's face twisted with panic and rage.
"How… how dare you accuse the Knight Commander of this kingdom? I didn't kill… him."
"Hmm? What's wrong?" Lan tilted her head slightly, her voice calm but tinged with cold mockery. "Did I accidentally speak the truth? Your breathing's getting shaky…"
She gripped her spear in both hands, her mind racing.
They're the ones who killed their king. And now I've shown up in this world at the perfect time for them to frame me. If I don't get out of here, this story's going to end before it even begins.
Her gaze swept across the hall—left, right, ahead—before landing on a large window just behind the soldiers. Her eyes narrowed in calculation.
That window… it probably leads outside the palace. Judging by the architecture, I'm still on the ground level. Even if I jump through, it won't be too high to land safely. Sounds like a plan…
She inhaled sharply, tightening her grip on the spear, readying herself for her next move.
But the problem is… I still don't know what my powers are. Back then, I just forced myself to pull something out, and it worked… but I don't even know what this green energy is. I've never read about anything like it… not even in fiction.
Lowering herself onto one knee, she planted the spear's blade into the ground, closed her eyes, and focused her mind. A faint green light flickered from her body before fading into darkness. Then, almost like a heartbeat, a deep, dark green aura surged around her, wrapping her in its glow. Her eyes snapped open as she rose to her feet, spear raised once more.
As I suspected… this isn't an elemental or cosmic power. It's different. It feels like it could become anything… but it's always green. Is it because I like green?
Yeah… probably.
She started moving. Slow at first, then faster—her feet beating against the marble floor as she sprinted straight toward the window. As she ran, a soldier stepped forward to block her path. Without breaking stride, she planted her spear against the ground, vaulted high into the air, and soared cleanly over the heads of the soldiers surrounding her.
As she passed above them, the soldier she leapt over dropped to his knees, trembling at her sudden movement. She looked down at him mid-air, a small, teasing smile curving her lips. Her ocean-blue eyes glinted with mischief as she winked and called out softly:
"You look good down there… but I wonder how it'll feel when I put this spear through you. Next time we meet, I'll let you find out. Hehe. Until then, enjoy your life. See ya."
She landed gracefully outside the circle. Without hesitation, she spun around and hurled her spear at the window. The glass shattered under its force, spraying shards across the floor. Turning her gaze back to the soldiers, she smirked.
"May our paths cross again… See ya."
With that, she dashed forward, leapt through the broken window, and twisted in the air. Extending her palm behind her, she called her spear back to her grip just before landing on the ground outside, only three meters below.
As her boots touched the earth, the spear shrank back into a cane with a soft metallic hum. She pulled the hood of her outfit over her head, hiding her face, and melted into the crowd that had gathered near the palace walls, watching the commotion. For a fleeting moment, they locked eyes with her… but in the blink of an eye, she was gone.
••
Not far away, in a quiet grove near the edge of the forest outside the kingdom walls, Lan sat beneath a tree, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Sweat dripped down her brow, but her lips curled into a smile.
"You know how to start a story, Starila," she whispered, laughter bubbling in her throat. "Haha…"
She raised her left hand, which held that cane, and saw, while smiling, that she started examining it.
She smirked, her eyes glinting with playful excitement.
"This is such a sick weapon," she murmured, twirling it lightly in her grip. "It deserves a name. After all, a weapon is a wanderer's best partner."
Raising her gaze to the sky, she fell silent, thinking for a moment. The moonlight reflected off her ocean-blue eyes as a small smile curved her lips.
"Qīnglóng…" she whispered. "From now on, you'll be called Qīnglóng."
She paused, the smile deepening into something gentle, almost reverent.
"One of the Four Symbols in our traditions… the Azure Dragon. Strong as hell, according to the elders. Out of all four, this one always fascinated me the most."
She rose to her feet, gripping Qīnglóng firmly as she spun it once with ease, the dragon-shaped spearhead catching the moonlight.
"You'll be my partner on this journey, Qīnglóng. And I'll make sure the world knows… you're worthy of that name."
°°°