Prologue :
Long Feng watched the black vein pulse against his wrist. It moved like an insect beneath the skin—cold, hungry, and relentless.
A Dragon does not show pain. He sat motionless as the Head Physician's forehead struck the stone floor. Thud.
"Your Majesty," the old man choked. "The golden elixirs are spent. The Blight has reached the heart-meridian. The seal... is breaking."
Long Feng looked at his fingers. They were the color of white jade, tipped with the gray of a corpse. He had climbed the highest peak of cultivation only to find he was not a God, but a lid on a coffin.
"How long?"
"Weeks, my Lord. Perhaps days."
Long Feng leaned back. The obsidian throne was cold. His blood was colder.
"Go to the Ash-Wastes," he commanded. "Bring me a vessel. I will not return to the dust in a bed like a common dog."