The courtyard behind the Hall of Echoes slumbered beneath the starlit sky. The moon's pale light filtered through the bamboo leaves, casting quiet shadows on the stone floor. Only three people were allowed here tonight, and even the winds seemed to know the importance of what was about to be said.
Su Mengtian stood at the center, his robes dusted with moonlight, his eyes sharper than the blades at his side. The weight of the Heavenly Spear Alliance's formation still lingered in his heart—but tonight was not about declarations or politics.
It was about blood. About legacy. About truths long buried.
Footsteps approached. Familiar, steady.
Su Leilong stepped into the courtyard, his presence commanding without effort. His silver-blue robe bore no clan sigil—he had long since ceased to wear it. But the way his spine held straight, and the way his gaze met Mengtian's, said everything.
He had not forgotten who he was.
Beside him, dressed in elegant emerald robes woven with ancient dragon thread, came Mengtian's mother. Her aura was serene, yet powerful, befitting one descended from the Great Long Clan. Her eyes—golden and deep—lingered on her son with both pride and sorrow.
Mengtian bowed. "Mother. Father."
His mother nodded gently. "You've grown, Tian'er."
"You carry yourself like Tianxuan once did," Leilong said.
Mengtian looked at him squarely. "I chose to finish what he started. But I need the full truth. I already know about Mother's lineage—the blood of the Great Long clan runs through me. I know about your banishment from the Hidden Su Clan. But I don't know about the Thunder Qilin Army."
Leilong's expression changed. The name hung in the air like thunder waiting to strike.
"I felt it," Mengtian pressed on. "When I made my declaration… when I summoned the Heavenly Spear… there was something. Like warriors awakening. Somewhere across the continent, they stirred."
Leilong walked to the stone bench and sat down slowly. "You felt correctly."
Mengtian's mother remained standing, her hands clasped tightly.
Leilong looked up at his son. "They are not a myth. They are real. And they still live."
Mengtian's heart thudded.
"You trained them?"
"I led them," Leilong corrected. "I took them in when no one else would. When your grandfather, Su Tianxuan, was declared a heretic by the Council of Supremes for speaking against the Bloodline Laws, I left with him. We were not alone. There were others—cultivators cast aside by clans, warriors whose loyalty wasn't to any empire, but to ideals. Those became my brothers-in-arms. Those became the Thunder Qilin Army."
"They weren't experiments," Mengtian murmured. "They weren't sealed underground?"
"No," his mother said gently. "They were flesh and blood. Warriors forged in battle. Loyal to your father—not because of blood, but because of what he stood for."
Leilong nodded. "We were undefeated in the border wars. We silenced six beast hordes. We razed four corrupt prefectures. But when Tianxuan died… the last order I gave them was to disappear."
"Why?"
"Because the world was not ready," Leilong said. "And because I was being hunted."
He stood, looking into Mengtian's eyes.
"They vanished into shadow. Hiding among sects, cities, and villages. Taking ordinary names. Training in silence. Waiting—not for Tianxuan, not for me—but for a sign that what we built still had a purpose."
"And now they seem to seek you," Mengtian said.
Leilong nodded. "Your words carried more than ambition. They carried inheritance. Every surviving Thunder Qilin warrior was trained to recognize the spiritual signature of our line. Tianxuan's blood. My discipline. Your soul."
Mengtian's mother whispered, "They are yours now, Tian'er."
"I didn't ask for an army," Mengtian said. "I built the Heavenly Spear Alliance to give strength to the powerless. I never intended to revive a secret force from a forgotten war."
"You didn't revive them," Leilong said quietly. "They never died."
Mengtian looked away.
"The world's already shifting. The clans are watching me. The empire is sharpening its swords. If I bring them out into the open—"
"They will come for you," Leilong finished. "Yes."
"Then why tell me now?"
Leilong stepped closer. "Because you are strong enough to decide. And because they will come whether you summon them or not. Your existence has already begun to awaken their instincts. Some of them will seek you. Others may try to test you."
Mengtian breathed deeply, then looked at his mother. "Did you know?"
"I did," she said softly. "But I agreed with your father. We wanted you to live without their shadow. We wanted you to make your own path."
"And yet I walked right into theirs."
"No," Leilong said. "You built your own. But now you must choose whether to merge the two."
Mengtian paced slowly. "How many are left?"
"Hundreds," Leilong answered. "Perhaps more. Some are merchants now. Some are cultivators. Some lead sects in disguise. But every one of them trained under me. Every one would kneel if they saw you."
"I don't want kneeling," Mengtian snapped. "I want loyalty. Earned. Not inherited."
Leilong smiled faintly. "Then test them. Prove you are worthy of their return."
Mengtian turned back. "Can they be trusted?"
His father's expression sobered. "Some may not come back. Others may have changed. Twenty years in hiding is not a small thing. But if you stand before them—as Tianxuan's heir, as the son of Leilong—they will follow."
A long silence passed.
His voice was low but steady. "They waited for your command… and you never gave it."
Su Leilong didn't flinch.
"I couldn't," he said quietly. "Not after what happened to Tianxuan. Not after the betrayal of the council. I was marked a traitor. If I had summoned them then, the Thunder Qilin Army would have been massacred before they could ever rise."
"They were loyal to you," Mengtian said. "They still are."
A flicker passed through Leilong's eyes—part disbelief, part guilt, part longing.
"Some are gone," he admitted. "Years of silence thinned our numbers. Some gave up. Some died waiting. But the core remains. They trained in secret sanctuaries, hidden temples, remote ridgelines beyond mortal sight. And they never broke rank."
Mengtian's brow furrowed. "Then why now? Why tell me now?"
Leilong turned to face him fully.
"Because you awakened the Thunder Spear in front of the world," he said. "And they saw. They knew. They heard the echo of Tianxuan's soul in your voice."
He stepped closer, eyes locked with his son's.
"You are no longer just my son, Mengtian. You are the heir to the storm."
Mengtian finally said, "I'll summon them. Quietly. One by one. Evaluate each."
His mother stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "This choice will shape history."
Mengtian nodded. "Then I'll shape it on my own terms."
Thunder cracked in the distant sky.
"Where do I begin?"
A gust of wind swept across the courtyard. Trees rustled. The sky above had darkened into a deep violet, stars peeking between scattered clouds.
Su Mengtian stood still, silent.
Leilong looked toward the distant peaks. "They're already here."
That made him pause.
"…What do you mean?"
"They were summoned the moment you invoked the Heavenly Spear Alliance," said Leilong. "Not by words. By will. By blood. I never taught you the old codes, but your soul remembered. The moment you declared yourself… they began to gather."
He gestured to the edge of the balcony.
"Tomorrow night, at the Hollow Ridge behind Crimson Sky Academy… you'll see.
Leilong reached into his sleeve and handed over a sealed scroll.
"A list of the last known identities of the Thunder Qilin officers. Start with the name at the top—Commander Fei Wu."
Mengtian took it.
"Let them know," Leilong said, eyes intense. "That their General's son walks the path once more."
And in the shadows of the night, a storm that had slumbered for two decades began to stir.
The silence after Su Leilong's words settled like dust in a tomb.
But in Su Mengtian's chest, something stirred—
something ancient. Something waiting.
Mengtian turned his gaze skyward.
It was as if everything that had once been hidden was now unfolding all at once.
He thought of the halls he'd built—the nine foundations of his future kingdom. He thought of Ji Yeyan, Rao Lin, Inara, and the others. All of them chosen. All of them brave.
But none of them had heard this storm coming.
He turned to his father again.
"You trained them. But they're mine now."
Leilong's face showed no protest. Only pride.
"That was always the plan."
His mother stepped forward once more, her hand light on Mengtian's arm.
"There's one more thing you need to understand," she said gently. "The Thunder Qilin Army… they aren't like other soldiers. They don't follow orders. They follow spirit."
Mengtian looked at her.
"They don't bow to bloodlines?"
"They bow to presence," she said. "To who carries the will of the storm. To who bears the roar in their soul. Your father led them because he was born of Tianxuan's blade. But you…"
She touched his chest.
"…you carry Tianxuan's fire. And something more."
A shadow passed over them then.
A high-pitched hum—barely audible—flickered through the courtyard like a passing wind current. Mengtian raised his eyes toward the moon.
A spear-shaped wisp of lightning curled in the clouds.
And just beneath the mountain's edge—faintly glowing sigils.
"They're already opening the march," Leilong murmured. "They waited two decades. But they've never stopped watching."
Mengtian clenched his fist.
"I'll meet them."
"You'll lead them," Leilong corrected. "But first—you must test them."
Mengtian raised an eyebrow. "Test?"
His father's eyes hardened. "To inherit command of the Thunder Qilin Army, you must face their storm trial. Even I was not spared. And I trained them."
His mother frowned but did not argue.
"What kind of trial?" Mengtian asked.
Leilong's voice turned grim. "You must enter the Thunderclad Basin—a sealed rift where the Qilin's breath still lingers. If they accept you, you'll return with the Stormbrand—a mark only the true commander can bear."
"And if they don't?"
His father looked him in the eyes.
"Then you'll die."
The wind howled again—louder this time, as if the world itself reacted to the statement.
But Mengtian didn't flinch.
"I understand."
He turned to face the distant horizon.
Tomorrow, he would walk into the Basin. Tomorrow, he would meet the sleeping storm.
But tonight… he stood as a son.
He looked back at his mother, then his father.
"You gave me life," he said. "Now I'll give that life a purpose."
His father's voice came soft, yet unshakable.
"We never stopped believing, Mengtian. Not once."
His mother wiped the edge of her eye. "We're proud of you."
But Mengtian just nodded.
And turned toward the black sky once more.
Far beyond the Crimson Sky Academy, hidden among the cliffs of Hollow Ridge, shadows stirred.
One by one, armored figures knelt around a massive spear embedded in the earth. Thunder coiled around its shaft, pulsing slowly with every heartbeat of the heavens.
The first figure rose. A woman in obsidian armor with silver lightning engraved on her helm.
"He lives," she whispered.
Another voice followed—a man with a jagged blade slung over his back.
"And he calls."
One by one, dozens… then hundreds began to emerge from the mists. Some bore old scars. Some wielded weapons etched in ancient runes. All of them silent. All of them waiting.
A flash of lightning split the sky.
And the thunder spoke, "The Commander returns."