Tale of QiLong

Chapter 1: The Grand Escape (I)

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Year 1010, October 1st.

World, Novia. Territory, Eastern empire.

Location: Sardonia, TianAn Palace. Setting, Hellfire estate.

"What are you waiting for, men! We must defend the palace!" a voice boomed from the outside of 1YinHuo Gong, following was the cries of armored soldiers charging into battle. The alarming noises disturbed the young prince from his studies. His curiosity piqued, laced with a hint of gentle concern and ignorance. Growing up, XiYang was sheltered greatly by his father, who doted on his youngest son excessively. Because of his favor, XiYang was able to live in extravagance. Everyday the young prince spent was free of care, and full of bliss and excitement. However this excitement was not the kind that he was used to, up until that fateful day? XiYang was much too innocent to understand the severity of it all. Lifting his head in the direction of the noise, XiYang put his calligraphy brush down with graceful movement. "What is going on?" XiYang asked one of his guardsmen. Upon the prince's inquiry, the loyal guardsman immediately went to check on the prince's behalf.

A few minutes passed with a chilling silence, anxiety washed over the prince as he heard heavy footsteps approaching his door. A moment later, his door creaked open to reveal his guard. Seeing the familiar face, XiYang's anxiety slowly diminished into a soothing feeling of relief. "Well?" XiYang's inquisitive eyes were filled with concern. In a trembling tone, the humble guard replied to his young master with mild hesitation: "2D-DianXia... T-the rebel leader-" Those words were all it took for the young prince to draw his sword and rush towards the doors. Behind him, his small army of soldiers followed him from his study to the entrance of the palace. With three soldiers to his left, and three to his right, XiYang bravely threw the doors open. His actions were quickly proven to be a fatal mistake, almost immediately? They were all ambushed by a barrage of sharpened stone arrows, which killed half his men and injured the rest.

Adrenaline pulsed madly through XiYang's veins, causing him to lose the ability to scream. Gasping helplessly, XiYang watched in vain as his men fell to their deaths with such swiftness that even the leaves of autumn couldn't compete. One by one, they all tumbled downward onto the surface of the polished stone floor. Blood pooled beneath their corpses, which further stained the imperial grounds. Surrounding him on both sides were macabre displays depicted only in historical tomes. Horrified, XiYang's jaw fell agape. Unable to scream or cry, his voice became mute, caught in his throat with no ability to surface. His head swayed side to side in shock, his conflicted expression swept across each row of his fallen soldiers. XiYang didn't know which of his soldiers to comfort first, all his soldiers were like family to him, and all of them were close.

From where he stood, XiYang whipped his head around. Immediately he felt an unpleasant, bubbling heat rising within his gut. The moment he locked his gaze with the five rebel archers responsible for his men's demise, his teary eyes slowly shifted into a hateful glare. "You-" XiYang began shakily as he clung onto his sword. The rebels rushed forward, their deadly weapons all pointing in XiYang's direction, each as ready as the other to claim the young prince's life. XiYang was unsure what to do, his men were either dead or immobilized. Around this time, his martial arts was beyond what one would consider mediocre. Fortunately for the young prince, he didn't have to make any decisions to save his life. Within a flash of seconds, flying out from what seemed to be nowhere were two obsidian tipped arrows. Adorned with the feathers of the golden pheasant as the fletching, each of these black-tipped pheasant arrows struck one of the five rebel swordsmen through their heart with perfect accuracy. Like many of XiYang's men before them, they both collapsed to their cold, unearthed graves.