The moon hung low over Crimson Sky Academy, casting silvery veils over the mountain peaks and crystalline domes. A serene silence stretched across the campus, broken only by the occasional flutter of owl wings or the distant echo of a late-night cultivator's step. But within the Grand Strategium, Su Mengtian stood awake—his eyes reflecting the starlight as he pored over a series of intricate scrolls and maps.
After the Frostveil Chasm expedition and the appointments of the Nine Hallmasters, momentum had surged through the academy. Mengtian's return had become more than a whisper—it had become a wave. The nine halls had already begun their preliminary recruiting and restructuring, and the halls' banners now proudly fluttered over their respective sanctums. Each bore the seal of its Hallmaster, with Su Mengtian's personal insignia etched above them all.
But as the formal structures took shape, Su Mengtian's mind was elsewhere—rooted in a promise not to a kingdom or hall, but to a mother and father who had once cradled him in a past long forgotten.
He set the final scroll aside and stepped out into the open courtyard, where cool wind brushed against his face. Yue Mei appeared from the shadows, her light robe fluttering like woven moonlight.
"You haven't rested," she said softly, offering him a warm gourd of peach blossom tea.
"I will," Mengtian replied, taking a sip. "But there's still something I must do before I let these halls carry my name further."
Yue Mei tilted her head. "Your family?"
He nodded. "They've lived quietly since I left. But now that this foundation is built, it's time they become a part of it. I want them safe. I want them proud."
Yue Mei stepped closer, her voice a whisper of wind, "Then I'll come with you."
The next morning, as mist clung to the cobblestones and bells chimed faintly from the Temple of Astral Harmony, Su Mengtian departed Crimson Sky Academy with Yue Mei at his side. They took no carriage, no guards—just the robes on their backs and the strength in their steps.
Nestled in a quiet province beyond the Veilstone Range lay a modest village: Huayin. It was a place of peaceful rice fields, carp-filled ponds, and a cluster of traditional wooden houses blanketed in moss and time. Here, Su Mengtian's parents lived. Simple farmers to most. Unsuspecting legends to their son.
As the couple worked in the fields, their spades dancing with the earth, Su Leilong suddenly paused and looked up toward the path. Two figures approached—one radiating presence, the other bearing the silent dignity of light itself.
"Mengtian," the old man breathed, his voice trembling.
Long Xiumei dropped her hoe and ran first. "My son…"
He caught her in an embrace that melted all the years apart.
"I promised I'd return stronger," Mengtian whispered into her hair.
"You did," Su Leilong said, placing a firm hand on his son's shoulder. "And more."
They sat beneath the old plum tree, where Mengtian had once chased butterflies as a boy. He introduced Yue Mei, who bowed respectfully. "Your son has honored every word of his legacy."
Su Leilong gave her a knowing look. "And yet he still struggles with soup without burning his tongue."
Everyone laughed.
But soon, the conversation turned serious.
"I want to bring you to the academy," Mengtian said. "Not just for safety. But so you can see what I'm building. I'm not alone anymore. And I want you to be part of it."
His father pondered, then nodded slowly. "So long as we don't interfere."
"You'll never be background to my story," Mengtian said. "You are its beginning."
Back at the academy, news of Mengtian's arrival with his family spread like wildfire. Students lined the roads as he entered with Su Leilong and Long Xiumei behind him. The Hallmasters themselves gathered at the Pavilion of Oaths.
Ji Yeyan gave a slight nod, hands folded within his black robes. "The commander returns with his roots. It is fitting."
Rao Lin offered a warrior's salute. "Let the halls know his blood runs deeper than power alone."
Inara clasped Long Xiumei's hands. "You gave birth to a storm. Thank you."
Yue Mei smiled softly, her hand brushing against Mengtian's. "You brought warmth into these cold halls."
He turned to face the crowd. "This academy is not only a forge for warriors. It's a cradle for the next era. And every era needs a soul—family, duty, love. These are my soul."
That evening, a quiet celebration was held beneath the luminous arches of the Hall of Astral Command. No fanfare. No declarations. Just heartfelt moments—Hallmasters raising cups in mutual respect, students hearing tales from Mengtian's youth, and Long Xiumei gently correcting Kai Chan's noodle seasoning with a mother's instinct.
A new chapter had begun—not with swords drawn, but with hearts united.
And far beyond the academy, across the still-slumbering world, ancient forces stirred.
They had seen the rise of Su Mengtian. But they had not foreseen the power of those who stood with him.
That night, as stars turned overhead, Su Leilong finally spoke of the truths long buried.
"I was once known as the Lightning Dragon Emperor," he confessed, his voice steady but tinged with nostalgia. "A Marshal who walked alongside the great generals of the Central Dominion."
Mengtian blinked in disbelief. "You never told me."
"I buried that title when peace became more valuable than power," Su Leilong continued. "My bloodline—one of the purest descents of the Great Thunderclap Dragon, a subspecies of Ancient Thunder Guardian Dragon—was too feared. Too envied.". His was of the lower Divine grade.
"Each bloodline comes with innate gifts," he said, "but it is through cultivation that one unlocks its true potential. The Great Thunderclap Dragon grants command over lightning, speed, and storm-born might. But even more potent is the instinct for battlefield leadership."
Mengtian listened in awe. "And the beast cores?"
Leilong nodded. "By absorbing beast cores of elemental lightning beasts, I gained three signature skills: Heavenstrider Bolt, which enhances instantaneous movement and acceleration; Stormcoil Armor, a defensive technique that encases the body in lightning-infused scales; and the Imperial Roar, a domain-level command aura that can suppress weaker bloodlines."
His mother, Long Xiumei, then added her tale. "I was the jewel of the Long Clan," she admitted. "My bloodline traces to the Astral Seraph Phoenix—a Divine-tier flame and starlight hybrid."
"She was the strongest prodigy of her time," Su Leilong said proudly.
"And yet," Xiumei smiled at Mengtian, "my greatest achievement was raising you."
Mengtian looked toward the quiet figures of his younger siblings, Su Tianlei and Su Lingyue, who shyly approached. He studied them closely and could sense faint traces of both bloodlines—his brother crackled faintly with electric pulse, while his sister's gaze held the calm brilliance of starlight.
"I will protect you all," Mengtian whispered. "No matter what comes."
And under the moonlight, family stood united—not by names or titles, but by a bond stronger than fate.