Children of Heaven and Blood
Fifteen years passed beneath Heaven's unblinking gaze.
In those fifteen years, death followed birth within the imperial house.
Every prince born after Xae Rin died before reaching the age of four. Some fell ill overnight. Others perished without warning. No pattern could be found. No physician could explain it.
Three princes in succession.
Fifteen years.
All gone.
The court trembled.
Whispers spread among officials, but none dared speak openly. Only three people understood the truth — the Emperor, the Empress, and the High Priestess.
And yet, the High Priestess said nothing.
By divine law, priestesses were forbidden from interfering directly in matters of state. Their duty was to interpret Heaven's will, not enforce it. Without proof, without witnesses, she could not accuse the Emperor of deception.
Her only remaining path was the one she had chosen long ago.
To kill the child of prophecy.
When her assassins finally returned with news that Bai Li had been found, the High Priestess smiled for the first time in years.
"If the twins were not slain at birth," she said calmly, "then they must be slain on their birthday."
The Imperial Palace
Preparations for Prince Xae Rin's fifteenth birthday filled the palace with color and music, yet unease lingered beneath the celebration.
The prince had grown into a striking young man — tall, composed, and refined. His face was smooth, untouched by beard or scar, and his presence carried an authority beyond his years.
He excelled in literature, statecraft, and the arts of war.
Rumors followed him like shadows.
Some claimed he possessed the spirit of Qu Liao Ying, the fifth emperor of Cheng — the great conqueror who had tripled the empire's territory and brought the Central Plains to heel.
Others whispered of an older prophecy:
When the third decade of emperors nears its end, Heaven shall send a child bearing the name IN.
He shall judge the unjust, conquer the unconquered, and expand the realm to where man has never ruled.
The prince's name was Xae Rin.
The one who conquers.
The Emperor watched his son from afar, pride and fear warring in his heart. The Empress prayed each night that Heaven would show mercy — though she no longer knew which child Heaven truly favored.
Que Dynasty
Far from Cheng, beyond deserts and broken roads, another young man came of age.
In Que Dynasty, Xiao Xing had long surpassed the limits of ordinary men.
By the age of twelve, he had defeated Bai Li himself — not through strength, but through instinct and adaptability. By fifteen, he hunted beasts alone and trained from dawn until nightfall.
Yet he lived simply, laughing with villagers, learning tricks and survival skills from travelers and farmers alike.
One night, as he roasted the meat of a tiger he had slain, strangers emerged from the darkness.
Bai Li recognized them instantly.
They were from Yix Village.
"Our village was destroyed after you left," one man said, his voice trembling.
"They slaughtered everyone… even the children."
Bai Li's world collapsed.
Rage and grief burned through him, and for a moment, he resolved to return to Cheng and cut down the High Priestess with his own blade. But duty restrained him.
If he left Xiao Xing behind, assassins would come.
If he took him along, the priestess would recognize him.
That night, Bai Li made his choice.
"From this moment on," he told Xiao Xing, "you will tell no one who you truly are."
He gave him a new name.
IN.
"You must head west," Bai Li continued, handing him a map. "Lead the villagers to Li Dynasty. Do not stop. Do not look back."
The villagers did not understand, but they trusted Xiao Xing. They followed him into the desert.
They were never meant to arrive.
The Ambush
The High Priestess' spies had been watching for days.
When the group reached the desert, the assassins struck.
Steel flashed. Screams split the night.
Xiao Xing fought like a storm, cutting down attacker after attacker — until the blades turned toward the villagers.
"Drop your weapon," they warned, pressing steel to innocent throats.
Xiao Xing froze.
Slowly, he released his sword.
The moment he fell to his knees, darkness closed in.
As his vision faded, he heard the villagers' screams — and felt the world