From the perspective of Zhuge Yu Jin
The sun had already slipped behind the walls when, at last, the guards clad in scarlet armor authorized his entry. The long wait in line — three endless hours among merchants, carts loaded with rice, and dust-covered travelers — now seemed distant in the face of what was revealed before him.
Albivion.
The Capital of the White Flame.
The iron and bronze gates opened like the mouth of a slumbering dragon, and Yu Jin crossed the threshold with slow yet steady steps, his eyes absorbing every detail as if afraid of losing something forever.
Inside, the city did not merely live. It breathed.
The wide streets were paved with smooth stone slabs, polished by time and countless feet until they reflected light like shattered mirrors. Upon them moved an unending flow of people: monks in simple robes, young disciples in blue and green garments, nobles in carriages with golden lanterns, and street vendors pushing wooden carts filled with fruit, tea, or dangling amulets.
Buildings rose in ordered rows of ancient style, blue-tiled roofs curved like phoenix wings, their eaves supported by dark wooden columns carved with plum blossoms and coiling dragons. From each window hung glowing red lanterns, creating rivers of light stretching as far as the eye could see.
And higher than all, towering like mountains erected by human pride, stood the palaces of the imperial center. Their golden rooftops shone even under the gray sky, while red banners with the white flame fluttered in the wind, reminding everyone of who truly ruled.
Yu Jin drew in a deep breath. The air was heavy, dense with the mixture of Qi that seemed to vibrate within every stone. Yet there were human scents too: incense burning before temples, exotic spices brought by distant caravans, and even the sweet aroma of pastries fried in honey.
He lifted his chin.
"Yes… it was worth it."
Behind him, Lin Hao walked in silence, his eyes still carrying that bitter shadow. Lin Xue and Mei Rong, on the other hand, unable to hide their youthful curiosity, stared at every detail of the city like children seeing the world for the first time.
Soon, both were drawn to a particular spot on the street.
At the edge of an alley, beneath a worn red canopy, an old stall steamed with the scent of melted sugar and roasted seeds. The vendor, a plump man with a rosy face and bare arms, stirred a golden liquid inside a small bronze cauldron with a bamboo stick. Beside him lay wooden molds carved with auspicious symbols — dragons, lotus flowers, and lucky fish.
With practiced skill, he poured the thick honey onto a cold surface, shaping it the moment it touched the stone. A single twist of the stick, and the crystallized candy emerged: light, gleaming, like small translucent sculptures that seemed alive under the lantern glow.
Lin Xue stopped at once, her eyes shining as if it were the first time she had ever seen such a thing.
— "Sister Mei, look… spiritual honey and sesame candies." — her voice carried an almost childish tone.
Mei Rong, though more restrained, couldn't hide her smile.
— "It's been years since I last saw a vendor like this."
Yu Jin watched as the two drew closer, their soft laughter mingling with the street's murmur. For an instant, the contrast between the weight of the forest — blood, beasts, silence — and the lightness of two girls before a simple sweet seemed far too absurd.
Still, he said nothing. He simply remained there, arms crossed, eyes scanning the crowd, while the honey clinked against the cold stone and the girls picked their favorite molds.
The sharp chime of hardening honey still echoed when something cut through the air.
A grave, metallic, dry sound.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
It was not the scattered noise of merchants banging pans, nor artisans sharpening blades. It was coordinated. It was martial.
Yu Jin turned slightly and saw — as if the streets themselves opened in respect — a row of cavalry advancing.
They did not walk: they tore through space with contained fury.
The hooves of the horses, black-coated beasts with red-braided manes, made the stone ground vibrate in waves. Their scale armor gleamed beneath the lanterns, each piece marked with the emblem of a blazing torch. On their shoulders, long-shafted lances trembled, the sharp tips clinking like the teeth of impatient beasts.
The very air seemed to change. The market's murmur recoiled, as if even the wind feared to intrude.
Yu Jin narrowed his eyes.
The formation was flawless. Trained cavalry, not mercenaries. The spiritual pressure emanating from some revealed realms above the common — Spirit Refinement, perhaps higher. And all of them moved with urgency, not as if obeying an order, but as if answering a calling.
Lin Xue and Mei Rong stopped choosing their sweets, turning to look. Even the vendor halted the twist of his stick, the honey dripping in a thick strand until it hardened on its own upon the stone.
— "The Duo Family…" — someone murmured amid the crowd.
The words struck like sparks in dry straw.
Suddenly, the entire street buzzed with whispers.
— "I heard one of the heirs…"
— "His life lantern was extinguished!"
— "Impossible! He was in the Black Forest, hunting!"
— "Then explain why the capital's cavalry rides out at noon with their lances bearing such urgency!"
Yu Jin didn't need to approach. Listening was enough. And he heard it all.
The life lanterns — those flames kept within the ancestral halls of great clans — never lied. When one extinguished, it meant death. Not injury, not kidnapping. Death.
The name spreading through the whispers was not unfamiliar to him.
Duo.
The same arrogance that had fallen beneath his blade, days ago, in the shadow of the Black Forest.
The fearful and curious gazes of citizens converged on the riders' trail, who passed through the city gates like a flaming arrow toward the unknown. Behind them remained the uneasy murmuring of dozens of voices.
— "The Duo clan will not rest until they discover who it was…"
— "If it's true, the entire Empire will tremble…"
— "Who would dare touch an heir of their lineage?"
Yu Jin stood unmoving. His face was serene. Yet within, the purple embers of his martial soul pulsed as if laughing at the irony.
He did not need to ask. He knew the answer.
The echoes of hooves still vibrated through the stones when the procession vanished through the gates. Gradually, life seeped back into the streets. The vendor resumed his craft as though nothing had happened, twirling the stick over hardened honey with the ease of one long accustomed to ignoring others' tragedies. The crowd's murmur, though lower, returned to prices, measures, and flavors. Even Lin Xue and Mei Rong, after a moment of silence, turned back to the stall, picking molds of dragons and flowers as if death itself hadn't just passed by.
Yu Jin, however, was not fooled by the calm.
His eyes lingered for long seconds in the direction the riders had taken. The purple flame within his chest throbbed with fresh memories: the bodies falling in the forest, the desperate gaze of a young Duo begging for life, and the cold edge of his blade answering without mercy.
There was no regret. But neither was there carelessness.
He drew a deep breath, turning his gaze to the trio beside him.
Lin Hao, as always, trailed two steps behind the girls, his expression hard, fists clenched. His eyes still carried that gleam of resentment no gratitude could erase.
Yu Jin walked up to him in silence. The voices of the market, the honey's sweetness, the girls' laughter — all vanished for a moment. When he stopped before the boy, his voice came low, firm, leaving no room for reply:
— "Brother Lin, now that we've arrived in the capital, we must part ways."
There was no time for reaction. No explanation.
Yu Jin had already turned away before Lin Hao could even open his mouth. Not a wave to Lin Xue, not a glance to Mei Rong. Only steady steps, each one erasing the bond they had built along the road.
He knew it might seem rude, even ungrateful. But the truth was simple: from here on, every step he took carried the weight of a blade stained with the blood of a capital heir.
The elder of the Subtle Pearl had already assured him — the chances of discovery were minimal, nearly nonexistent. Even so… "minimal" did not mean "null."
And if the world chose to mock him once more? If the heavens decided to trace cruel coincidences, as they had so many times before?
In that case, he would not drag along those who bore no share in his war.
That was why he parted.
The streets of Albivion spread before him in a sea of sounds and colors. Merchants shouted their offers beneath red canopies; children ran between the legs of passersby, laughing with candy stuck to their teeth; monks in gray robes walked silently, like shadows that did not belong to the bustle. The air was a mosaic of aromas — spices, grilled meat, incense, human sweat, and sun-warmed stone dust.
Yu Jin walked through it all without faltering. His face betrayed nothing beyond his usual calm, but each glance he cast, each corner he turned, was measured with precision.
"Only a few days remain until the selection of the Seven Great Sects…"
That was the priority.
No distractions, no risks in intrigues that offered no immediate gain. Before any confrontation, before any ambition, he needed a place to withdraw. An inn. A roof. A simple bed, but one sufficient to rest his body and consolidate the purple flame burning within.
Everything else… could wait.
With that thought, Yu Jin continued his walk through the capital. Each step carried him further from the echoes of the road, and closer to the true stage where, sooner or later, his name would make the heavens bow.