Descendants of The Dead Kingdom [Under Editing]

/Lantern fe$tiva¶/ 1

The day after the corpse was discovered near the lake, A-Zhen prepared for the lantern festival with hopes of Xingchen's return. Xueyang was nowhere to be found. Even though the festival was the next day, they needed to set out early in the morning to reach the capital on time.

"Those two! Can't they consider this little brother’s existence on a day like this? Looks like I’ll be going alone! Hmph!"

He pouted with an annoyed expression.

Meanwhile, Xiao Xingchen pushed Moonlight to move faster. Reaching the river marking the border between Prosperous Lan and Eastern Yang, he paused to let Moonlight drink. He dismounted and splashed water on his face, smiling as he watched his loyal steed greedily drinking from the river. He stroked Moonlight's long, white mane with affection.

He glanced at a nearby path leading south, curiosity sparking in his eyes. That path led toward Southern Phoenix, a kingdom ruled by women. The royal family was a unique witch clan where only a queen born with the Phoenix blessing and a specific forehead mark could ascend the throne.

Their cultivation methods were unlike those of the other three kingdoms. Northern Lan's imperial family vehemently opposed such divergent cultivation practices, particularly those involving demonic energy. Despite a lack of open conflict, tension simmered between the royal clans.

Fifteen years ago, a war had left Northern Lan as the most prosperous of the four kingdoms. Southern Phoenix, however, had never openly acknowledged its alliances. The remaining three maintained visible ties through marriages and treaties.

Xingchen considered these disputes foolish. As long as cultivation was used to aid others, what did it matter whether it was labeled black or white? A cruel, greedy cultivator practicing so-called "white" cultivation was no different from a dark practitioner. Strength and character, he believed, defined the true value of a cultivator.

As dusk approached, memories of A-Zhen and their promise spurred him to lead Moonlight into Yi Forest.

---

Thirty minutes in, he was still only partway through the sprawling woods.

Whoosh!

Xingchen instinctively dodged as an arrow buried itself in a nearby tree.

Shuanghua unsheathed in a dazzling arc, the carved letters on the blade glowing with a silvery light. Two attackers in black lunged at him but fell beneath his swift, graceful movements. Yet, more assailants emerged from the shadows.

Why are they ambushing me?

Despite fatigue from the journey, Xingchen fought relentlessly, his form embodying an ethereal grace that seemed almost otherworldly. Shuanghua slashed through half of the attackers, leaving him pristine and composed. The remaining bandits wielded odd scimitars—daggers capable of shifting forms through spiritual energy manipulation.

"Bandits from Condor Valley?"

He muttered, recalling a rescue mission years before when he and a friend had clashed with similar foes.

Yet something was off about their techniques.

"Damn cultivator! You are too arrogant!" one bandit spat.

"You attacked me without reason. Do I know you?" Xingchen retorted, fighting with unwavering poise.

With the last bandit dispatched, Xingchen’s narrowed eyes scanned the bodies strewn around him. Just then, a shadow streaked out from the trees. Shuanghua met the sudden attack in a wide arc, forcing the figure to stagger back. But the stranger's sinister smile behind the black mask made Xingchen's skin prickle.