PART TWO: A WORLD WITHOUT KINGS
Yun Li laughed again.
She had spent hours with the servants, tasting smoky cloud candy, watching spirit dancers, and listening to ghost children sing lullabies from forgotten dynasties. For a moment, the weight on her chest had lifted.
Maybe... maybe I can live like this.
The mortal world, Earth, echoed in her thoughts like a dream. She had peppered the servants with questions.
What were mortals like? Did they cultivate? Did they kneel to kings?
"Not ours," a servant had smiled. "In the mortal realm, no one kneels to the Ghost King."
That made her heart flutter.
She was walking down a narrow alley lit with floating crystal lamps, her cheeks still warm from laughter, when the shadows suddenly shifted.
A chill rolled through the air.
A pulse. A surge. A presence.
Too late.
From the rooftop above, a man dropped.
He was cloaked in dark red robes—his spirit energy volatile. A mid-rank Calamity cultivator, a ghost realm warrior known for consuming weaker souls. His eyes gleamed with hunger the moment he saw her.
"The Ghost King's daughter," he hissed, lips curling. "Alone… and unguarded."
The servants gasped and backed away, shielding Yun Li.
But she stood frozen.
"You'll fetch a fine ransom," he said, raising a cursed dagger.
She couldn't even scream.
Then everything stopped.
The air grew heavy, thick like death.
The attacker blinked—and in that same instant, his body seized.
His eyes widened, blood vessels bursting.
THUMP.
His heart exploded inside his chest.
He dropped dead, eyes still open in shock.
No sword. No spell. No visible attack.
Just one distant shift in thought—from a throne far away.
The crowd went silent. Every spirit nearby dropped to their knees in instinctive terror.
The Ghost King had noticed.
And he was not pleased.
Above the clouds, far across the ghost capital, the tyrant stood from his throne. His voice echoed across thunder.
"She is mine, my daughter!"
"Touch her, and you will beg for death before I grant it."
Back in the street, the servants trembled.
They knew.
They were in deep, irreversible trouble. They had snuck the princess out of the palace. They shivered as if cold water had been poured on them.
"Y-Your Majesty will know we were only trying to help—"
"You helped her escape the palace without permission," another whispered in horror. "He'll flay us alive."
Yun Li stared at the body.
The joy from earlier was gone. Her heart was cold.
She didn't feel safe.
Far from the ghost realm—past broken dimensions and torn spirit veils—there was a place untouched by cruel thrones.
Earth.
The mortal realm.
A soft wind rustled through the sleepy neighborhood of Jamsil, Korea. Birds chirped from rooftops. The morning sun bathed the little apartment in warm light.
Inside, the air smelled of cinnamon and tea.
"Yona, wake up, baby."
A gentle voice drifted through the small bedroom.
Miss Jiha stood by the bedside, tying her long hair into a messy bun with one hand and holding a folded school uniform in the other. She was a single mother, quiet in strength, with kind eyes that had known hardship but refused to grow bitter.
On the bed, Yona stirred under her covers.
"I don't want to go to school," she mumbled, burying her face in the pillow.
Miss Jiha chuckled softly and walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"You said that yesterday," she said, brushing a lock of hair from Yona's forehead. "But you still came home with perfect marks."
Yona rolled over slowly, her eyes still half shut.
"I had a dream, mom," she whispered. "A scary one. There was a girl… with white hair… and red bruises all over her back."
Miss Jiha paused for a moment.
Then, gently, she reached down and kissed her daughter's forehead.
"It's just a dream," she whispered. "I'm here. You're safe."
Yona blinked at her, then smiled. She always believed her mother's words.
Miss Jiha stood and handed her the uniform. "Come on. Breakfast is ready. I made your favorite—apple cinnamon toast."
In the kitchen, laughter bloomed like sunlight. Yona danced around the table while Miss Jiha poured tea.
There were no guards. No whips. No shouting. Just warmth.
Just love.
And somewhere—far beyond that peaceful morning—a shadow from the ghost realm was watching.
Waiting.
The palace at night was alive with silence.
Not peaceful silence—the kind that crawled.
In the deepest wing of the Ghost King's domain stood a chamber that no one dared enter. Not without permission. Not even his sons.
The Cultivation Hall.
Here, within layers of protective spells and shadow seals, the Ghost King meditated, refined dark artifacts, and stored powerful relics—including one forbidden object Yun Li had only ever heard rumors about:
A Void Star Crystal—capable of tearing open a path between realms.
A bridge to Earth.
Yun Li had waited weeks, watching the guards, memorizing the timing, studying the runes scratched into the walls whenever she brought tea or salve for her father.
She only needed ten minutes.
Tonight, the Ghost King was out—summoned to the outer borders to crush a rebellion. The palace was locked in eerie quiet.
Now was her only chance.
She moved like smoke.
Barefoot, cloaked in black, she slipped past the sleeping servants, through the maze of spiraling corridors, and down the hidden stone steps that led to the forbidden wing.
Her heart thundered.
A single guard stood by the chamber door, half-dozing.
Yun Li pressed a talisman to her lips—one of the servants had taught her a stealth technique—and vanished from sight for only five seconds.
It was enough.
She slid behind the guard as his head drooped and whispered the unlocking charm she had memorized from her father's lips:
"Kai'Sei."
Click.
The black stone door groaned open, revealing a chamber lit by eerie floating orbs.
Inside… shadows breathed.
It smelled of death and incense.
Rows of spirit weapons floated in mid-air. Glass tanks bubbled with glowing fluids. Scrolls of forbidden techniques drifted across the walls like restless ghosts.
And there—at the center, encased in black ice—hovered the Void Star Crystal.
It pulsed softly.
It's real.
Yun Li's fingers trembled as she approached.
Her eyes scanned the floor—runes. If she stepped wrong, she'd be shredded into particles. She adjusted her stance, tiptoeing between glyphs she remembered from the scrolls.
Left foot between the twin fangs. Right past the crescent. Do not breathe too loud.
Her breath came shallow. Sweat slid down her back.
As her hand closed around the crystal, the entire room shivered.
The wards flared—too late. The talisman she swallowed earlier had bought her five seconds of immunity.
She turned and ran.
The door slammed shut behind her. The guard stirred—
"Who's—?!"
Yun Li vanished into the darkness.
Footsteps. Shouts. Spells flashing.
But she was already down the servant hall, dashing toward her wing. Her chest burned. Her fingers clenched tight around the teleportation crystal, its pulsing heartbeat echoing through her bones.
Almost caught.
I stole from my father.
From the king.
She burst into her room, slammed the door, dropped the bolt, and collapsed onto the cold floor.
Her body shook with panic.
She pressed her back to the wall, slid down, and stared at the crystal glowing in her palm. It was warm. It was alive. The symbols inside shifted like a night sky folded in half.
"How do I use this?" she whispered, voice barely audible.
No scroll. No manual. Just a relic soaked in ghost blood and sealed by a monster.
She lit a candle with trembling fingers and unrolled a scroll she had hidden under her pillow—stolen knowledge from the palace library. Diagrams. Realm gates. Sigils of passage.
"It needs an anchor…"
She flipped the page, eyes wide.
"A sacrifice…?"
The light in the crystal surged for a second, responding to her energy.
Yun Li's heart sank.
"I have to give something up to make it work."
And for the first time…
She didn't care.
Whatever it took—she would leave. She would escape. She would run.
To the mortal world.
To freedom.