Central Domain Continent, Shen Yao Empire, imperial palace.
Thunder rumbled over the Shen Yao Imperial Capital, but no one heard it. The empire's heart was alive with celebration. Lights floated across the skies like will-o'-the-wisps, banners from all five continents waved in the air, and drums echoed across the sacred mountain city. This was a prelude that marked the beginning of the Grand Convergence Tournament — the once-in-fifteen-year spectacle where talent clashed, legends rose, and the future of the world was weighed in battle.
But far away from the grand arena, deep within the quiet inner palace, a woman gave birth in silence.
The eleventh concubine of the Shen Yao Emperor — Qingchen — clutched the swaddled child to her chest, sweat still clinging to her brow, tears dried on her cheeks. Her beauty was beyond compare, praised even by rival empires, yet her station was the lowest among the imperial harem. No noble blood. No powerful clan. Just beauty — her only currency, and the source of endless jealousy.
"You're beautiful…" she whispered to the newborn. "So quiet. You haven't even cried yet."
The doors opened with a gust of pressure, and the aura that swept through silenced even the chirping cicadas.
The Emperor had arrived.
Shen Hóngtú — Emperor of the Shen Yao Empire, one of the two strongest men in the five continents, a living symbol of power. He stood tall, muscles sculpted with the precision of divine design, ink black hair like woven midnight, eyes cold as jade steel. Though his features bore the grace of a youthful man, his presence carried the weight of eras.
"Is it a boy?" he asked. His voice was calm. Commanding.
Lady Qingcheng, startled, quickly offered the baby forward with both hands. "Yes, Your Majesty."
He took the child and held him carefully, studying the tiny sleeping face. "Hmph, though he looks a lot like me but… doesn't look like much yet."
Reaching into his robe, he pulled out a jade-colored device — long, needle-shaped, with an orb in its center.
"Your Majesty?" Lady Qingcheng cried out in alarm
"He will be tested." Spoke the emperor with authority
"But… he is only minutes old!"
"This is Shen Yao. A son of mine will not wait five years to be judged."
With a sharp click, the device extended. A needle pricked the infant's heel.
The baby wailed.
Lady Qingcheng's heart clenched.
The Emperor said nothing. He stood still, holding the device upright as it absorbed the drop of blood into its core. The orb glowed faintly. The wait began.
A minute passed. No color.
Two more. Nothing.
Five… the room grew still.
By the tenth minute, the orb began to fade — not to any color, but to transparency. The crimson of blood vanished like smoke, leaving behind a clear, empty void.
The Emperor's brows tightened. His jaw clenched. He turned toward the door.
"Your Majesty, wait—"
"A child of no element affinity who can't even ascend to the lowest skin tempering realm in his life is no child of mine," he said coldly. "This disgrace will not be acknowledged. Do not speak of him to the public. Do you understand?"
"Please… he's still your son!"
"He is nothing, nothing but a disgrace, you can't even give me a proper child look at this trash you gave birth to, when my others hear of this disgrace you gave birth to what face will I have left, hmph."
He handed the baby back to her as if returning a broken blade and strode toward the exit without another glance.
"Hóngtú!" she cried. "Please—he needs you! He's your blood!"
But the doors closed behind him, and the golden-armored guards followed him out in silence.
Lady Quingcheng looked down at the child in her arms.
He had stopped crying.
His eyes were open now. And in their dark, newborn depths, something old stirred. Something watching. Something silent.
She held him tighter and whispered through tears.
"It's alright. I'll love you, even if no one else does…