The ponderous oak portal of the Grand Enforcer's sanctum sealed with a resonant finality, effectively isolating the chamber from the chaotic bedlam erupting beyond its threshold. Master Jin Sumo, moving with a celerity uncharacteristic of his usually stoic demeanor, transported the comatose form of Xan Li Fang toward the cultivation dais. Upon contact with the silk linens, Xan's somatic vessel went entirely flaccid, the resplendent golden luminescence of his dermis fading into a pallid, exhausted alabaster hue that suggested total spiritual depletion. "Wang!" Lady Marta vociferated, rushing to the bedside with trembling hands to ascertain his vital signs. "Wake up! What affliction plagues him? Is his foundational core fracturing under the strain?" Sumo adjusted his pristine vestments, his respiration finally stabilizing into a rhythmic cadence. "Exercise tranquility, Marta; his foundation remains as immutable as bedrock, yet he is utterly devoid of essence." He gazed down at the youth with a complex amalgamation of reverence and trepidation. "He invoked a Forbidden Chant to manifest the immutable Laws of Heaven against a Sovereign entity, a reckless maneuver that hemorrhaged every droplet of Qi from his meridians; he requires only prolonged slumber, so maintain a vigil over him." "Whither do you depart?" Marta inquired, sensing the ominous shift in Sumo's aura. "To the Lions' Den," Sumo replied grimly, pivoting toward the exit. "The Monarch has summoned the Council, and they intend to adjudicate the fate of our 'little monster'; if I do not intervene, they may resolve to execute him before he regains consciousness." With a blinding flash of white light, the Grand Enforcer vanished, leaving Marta alone in the silent room to guard the boy who had shaken the foundations of the world.
Deep beneath the gilded corridors of the Lindao Royal Palace lay the Chamber of Shadows, a clandestine locus where history was inscribed in blood and whispers. The walls, constructed of sound-dampening Void Stone, absorbed all acoustic resonance, while a massive circular table dominated the epicenter of the room. The atmosphere was saturated with a tension sufficiently dense to crush a mortal lung as the Seven Sovereigns convened. Lord Chenlia, the Master of Wind, slammed his fist onto the obsidian surface, temporarily discarding his elegant composure. "I shall articulate this singular warning!" Chenlia shouted. "If we permit this prodigy to slip through our grasp—or worse, if we inflict harm upon him—I shall abdicate my position as a Sovereign this very nocturnal cycle and depart the Kingdom!" "Regulate your emotions, Chenlia," Lord Fenxu interjected coldly, her voice resembling the fracturing of glacial ice. "You are governed by sentiment, whereas we operate on logic; only you and Xanluo perceived his full potency, while to the remainder of this council, he is merely an anomaly, an unexploded ordinance waiting to detonate." At the head of the table, Master Jin Sumo materialized; eschewing a seat, he stood radiating absolute authority. "The session is commenced," Sumo announced. "The agenda concerns the ultimate fate of Cultivator Wang."
Silence descended like a shroud, and the subsequent debate was not a discussion, but a war of ideologies. "He represents an unacceptable hazard," Lord Rudo, the Fire Master, argued, smoke spiraling from his dermis. "He possesses a power we cannot comprehend; if he turns against us, who prevents the catastrophe? I propose we eliminate the threat while he remains vulnerable." "I concur," whispered Lord Jinbao, the Medicine Master. "His biology defies established logic, and vivisection would yield greater value than risking our collective security." "Myopic imbeciles!" Lord Xanluo, the Sword Master, growled, touching the fissure in his mask. "He defeated me! Do you comprehend the gravity? A youth vanquished a Sovereign! If we compel him to swear a Blood Oath of fealty to the King... we acquire a weapon capable of conquering the Empire." "Enslave him?" Sumo asked quietly. "A dragon does not submit to a leash, Xanluo; if you attempt to shackle him, he will incinerate the entire edifice." The chamber was fractured down the center: three Sovereigns voted for termination, three for enslavement. "It is a stalemate," the Royal Representative observed from the shadows. "And you, Grand Enforcer? You possess the deciding vote." Sumo regarded them all. "I vote for Freedom; let him select his own trajectory. If he chooses to aid us, excellent; if he departs, let him depart. But we support him, we befriend him, for that is the sole method to survive his potential."
"The Academy stands with Sumo," the Chief Elder of Lindao Academy interjected firmly. "We do not slaughter our students." "And the Crown," the Royal Representative added, stepping into the illumination, "desires his service. We shall extend a title, but we will not terminate him... yet." The decision was ratified; they would interrogate the boy, test his loyalty, and based on his response, they would decide whether to extend a hand or sever his throat. Hours later, the lunar orb hung high in the firmament, bathing the academy in a spectral silver luminescence. Xan Li Fang opened his eyes, the cephalic agony having receded, replaced by a dull, throbbing ache in his spiritual core. He sat up with deliberate slowness, noting that Lady Marta was slumped in the adjacent chair, deep in the embrace of slumber, her peaceful visage a stark contrast to the fierce warrior reputation she bore. "Sentinel duty must be exhausting," Xan whispered, a faint, melancholic smile touching his lips. Moving with the silence of a phantom, he slipped from the bed, intent on acquiring fresh atmosphere without disturbing her repose. Ascending the maintenance ladder to the rooftop of Department Zero, he found the nocturnal air crisp and biting, yet he welcomed the thermal shock. From his spatial ring, he retrieved a ceramic vessel of wine liberated earlier from the kitchens, broke the seal, and indulged in a long, burning draught.
"Ahh..." He gazed upward at the foreign constellations; though distinct from the astral patterns of Earth, they evoked the identical hollow ache in his thorax. Memories inundated his psyche: his mother's warm smile in their dilapidated shack, the laughter of friends discussing trivialities, and the visage of a girl whose affection he had been too timid to acknowledge. "I wonder if my memory persists in her mind," Xan mused, taking another drink, his chuckle devoid of humor. "Even here... my existence is not autonomous." His gaze sharpened, shifting from the stars to the distant illumination of the Royal Palace, his enhanced senses almost perceiving the heavy scrutiny of the Sovereigns debating his mortality. "They are debating whether to terminate or utilize me," Xan articulated to the wind. "Political machinations and power struggles; it is ubiquitous." He clenched the wine jar until his knuckles blanched, the nostalgic boy vanishing to be replaced by the Daoist. "Hahahaha..." His laughter was low and dark, carrying a terrifying edge. "Let them scheme; they believe my destiny is theirs to adjudicate?" Xan stood, the wine jar shattering in his grip as his mismatched eyes—Red and Blue—glowed in the darkness. "If they attempt to execute me... I will not succumb quietly. I possess sufficient power in my Death Essence to drag half this Academy into the abyss with me; if I burn, everything burns." He turned back toward the door, his resolve hardened like tempered steel. "Come the morrow... we shall ascertain who is the predator and who is the prey."
The morning sun filtered through the dusty fenestration, casting a deceptive tranquility upon the scene as Master Jin Sumo pushed the door open, balancing a tray of medicinal porridge. "Marta," Sumo whispered, stepping across the threshold. "I have procured Spirit Recovery Soup; how is his—" He froze. The tray clattered to the floor, the porcelain vessel shattering and spilling scalding broth as Sumo stared at the empty mattress. "Marta!" His roar shook the foundations of the room, jerking Marta from her sleep. "Where is Wang?! I instructed you to maintain surveillance! Could you not execute one simple directive?!" Marta blinked, staring at the empty bed, her complexion draining of color. "I... I merely closed my eyes for a second! He was slumbering deeply, his Qi drained!" "He is gone, Marta! Absent!" Sumo grabbed his hair, pacing the room and sniffing the air, but there was no lingering scent, no footprint, no residual energy; it was as if the boy had evaporated. "Locate him!" Sumo barked. "I will scan the City; you dismantle this Academy. If we do not locate him within the hour... the sky will collapse upon our heads."
One hour later, panic ensued—absolute and unadulterated. Despite Marta turning the Academy upside down and Sumo scanning the capital with his Divine Sense, Xan Li Fang had vanished without a trace. Sumo stood in the center of the Royal Council Chamber, his head bowed, the silence heavier than a mountain. "He... is gone?" Lord Rudo asked, his voice dangerously low. "You misplaced the weapon?" "He must have intercepted our discourse," Sumo admitted, his voice filled with bitter regret. "He possesses senses far beyond our comprehension; if he heard us debating his enslavement... he executed the rational Draconic response." "He fled," Lord Chenlia concluded, snapping his fan shut. "And now, we possess a catastrophe: a Second Step Cultivator with a vendetta against the Kingdom is loose in the wilderness." The King's Hologram flickered to life, the projection casting a golden shadow. "Locate him." The voice was an Imperial Edict. "Mobilize the Shadow Guards; send a word to every border outpost. If he exits our territory, we forfeit our leverage. Retrieve him alive if possible; if he resists... cripple him. But do not allow him to fall into the hands of the Empire."
Hundreds of miles away, the wind howled as a figure moved through the atmosphere, not flying, but skating on the fabric of space itself at velocities that shattered the sound barrier. Xan Li Fang halted mid-air, hovering over the massive canyon that demarcated the border between the diminutive Lindao Kingdom and the colossal Sky Lord Empire. He glanced back toward the capital he had abandoned, his sharp eyes detecting the distant flares of signal fires and rising barriers. "Too lethargic," Xan scoffed, a smirk playing on his lips as he consumed an apple with casual arrogance. "Did they truly hypothesize I would remain passive, awaiting their adjudication on my mortality?" Xan laughed, the sound echoing in the empty canyon. "Master Sumo... you are perhaps a decent man, but you are weak; you serve a Monarch, whereas I serve no one." He turned his gaze forward to the Sky Lord Empire—a land a hundred times larger and infinitely more ruthless, where the Ancient Ruins mentioned in the forbidden texts lay hidden. "If I desire to return to the Supreme Continent and unearth the truth of the Gunsang Tree, I require resources this tiny kingdom cannot provide." Clenching his fist, his Dao Essence humming with wanderlust, Xan whispered, "Ancient Ruins... reveal your secrets." BOOM. He kicked off the air, breaking the sound barrier once more as he crossed the border, disappearing into the vast, unknown territories of the Empire. The Dragon had departed the pond; now, he navigated the ocean.