In early July of the 28th year of the Chunyuan reign of the Great Qin Empire, a weary convoy was trudging along a rugged, winding mountain road. To one side lay a bottomless abyss, and to the other, sheer cliffs. The party moved with mechanical exhaustion, as if they had long since lost all vitality. Though it was the height of summer, the vast, dense forest acted as nature’s own thermostat, keeping the temperature on the uneven mountain path from becoming sweltering.
The most conspicuous sight in the serpentine column was a two-wheeled carriage, bouncing incessantly over the rough, narrow track. It bore the yellow dragon flag of the Great Qin Imperial Family, signaling to any observer that this was a royal vehicle. Combined with the standard Great Qin uniforms worn by the soldiers, it was easy to identify them as imperial officials.
The East Continent was a land of many powerful nations and sectarian disputes. The greatest powers were a mix of empires and sects, locked in a perpetual cycle of dominance where the strong preyed upon the weak. In just one corner of this continent, thousands of empires and sects of varying sizes were scattered. To the west lay the Lieyang Empire; to the south, the Great Chu Empire; to the east, the Pufa Empire; and to the north, the Aoxiong Empire. Nestled among and around these four giants were numerous smaller nations—like Qin, Jin, Han, and Zhao—all existing as vassals to the major powers.
The seventh-rank Great Qin Empire was a vassal under the protection of the sixth-rank Great Chu Empire. Situated to the northeast of Chu, it bordered the vast and endless Tieshi Mountains—the outer reaches of the Savage Mountains. No one knew the true extent of the Savage Mountains, nor had anyone ever crossed the Tieshi Mountains to reach their interior; it was only known that they teemed with infinite demonic beasts. No one had ever been able to penetrate deep into the Savage Mountains—or even the depths of the Tieshi Mountains—and return unscathed. Even many of the continent’s most powerful Martial Practitioners dared not venture into the heart of the wilderness.
"Pick up the pace! We rest at the bend ten miles ahead! We have six hundred miles to go before we reach Shicheng—keep your spirits up!" At the sound of this gravelly voice, the puppet-like column accelerated slightly. It was not that they were lazy; they had been marching for three consecutive months, covering over twelve thousand miles from Yanjing, the capital of the Qin State, to the edge of the Tieshi Mountains.
Aside from the eight guard captains and the commanding general riding on horseback, the eight hundred soldiers were all on foot. The leader at the front was clearly a general, standing about 1.8 meters tall with a robust, tiger-like build. He led a scrawny chestnut horse, his face, weathered by over forty years of hardship, showing a pair of bright, vigilant eyes that constantly scanned the dense forest on the hillside to his right.
Inside the carriage lay a fifteen-year-old boy, dressed in a loose purple python robe and resting on bedding of red silk. His face was deathly pale, and his exposed arm, no thicker than a cucumber, betrayed a frail and sickly constitution. Since they had entered the mountain road over a month ago, the relentless jolting had caused the youth to lose consciousness countless times.
"Alas, the young master’s life is truly bitter. Lost his mother at six, plagued by grave illness since eight, stripped of his crown prince status, and now, as soon as he reached adulthood, exiled to guard the frontier in this remote town of Shicheng. May the spirit of the departed Empress protect him and grant him peace and longevity," sighed an old eunuch beside the boy.
The youth in the carriage was Hua Tianxiong, the Crown Prince of the Qin State who had been deposed five years earlier, and the eighth son of the current emperor, Hua Zhengchun. As the old eunuch lamented, the boy’s life had been one of constant disaster.
Hua Tianxiong’s mother, Zhao Min, had been the favorite consort of the Qin Emperor, bestowed with the title of Consort Duan. She was originally a princess of the Zhao State—a seventh-rank vassal of the Great Chu Empire—and was renowned for her intelligence, elegance, and beauty. The Zhao Emperor had sent her to marry Hua Zhengchun to strengthen the ties between their two minor empires, allowing them to huddle together for warmth amidst the power struggles of the surrounding six-rank empires.
After his birth, Hua Tianxiong was deeply doted upon by Hua Zhengchun because of his mother. He began his cultivation at age four and reached the Sixth-Rank Martial Disciple level by five—an age when ordinary people were only just beginning to try. By the time he was named Crown Prince at eight, he had already attained the status of a Peak Ninth-Rank Martial Warrior. But after eight short years of favor, disaster struck.
A month after he was named Crown Prince, Consort Duan fell ill with a mysterious sickness. The Emperor summoned every great physician in the land, but to no avail, and she eventually succumbed to exhaustion. She left eight-year-old Hua Tianxiong alone in the treacherous, cutthroat imperial palace. Devastated by the death of his beloved Consort Duan, the Emperor Hua Zhengchun lost his ambition to strengthen the Great Qin Empire and eventually ceased to care for state affairs.
Misfortunes never come singly. Two months after her death, Hua Tianxiong—the most gifted eight-year-old martial prodigy in the empire—was ambushed by assassins just as he stepped into the First-Rank Martial Master stage. His Dantian was shattered, and his meridians were severed. He could no longer practice the martial arts; his cultivation was permanently locked at the First-Rank Martial Disciple level. His body became sickly and weak, leaving him breathless after walking less than half a mile. He had gone from being the "number one genius" of the Great Qin Empire to its "number one waste" of a prince.
The Huaxia Continent revered martial power, and practicing the arts was a way of life. Even commoners took pride in training, and an average person could reach the Third-tier Martial Disciple level; for the children of nobles, it was essential. Since its founding, every emperor of the Great Qin Empire had been a Martial Practitioner, with the weakest being at least a Martial Master.
With his favorite consort dead and his beloved son crippled, the Emperor Hua Zhengchun grew even more negligent in his governance, focusing solely on his own cultivation. After three years of searching for doctors in vain, he finally listened to the counsel of his ministers and Empress Ye Yingwen, and replaced Hua Tianxiong with the Empress’s eldest son, Hua Tianli, as Crown Prince.
Upon coming of age at fifteen, and in accordance with ancestral laws, Hua Tianxiong was enfeoffed as a Prince, with his territory in Bohai Commandery of the Gaoli Province, based in Shicheng. This was the furthest commandery from the capital, Yanjing, and served as an observation station for the annual Beast Tide in the Tieshi Mountains. In plain terms, the Great Qin imperial family had abandoned this crippled prince, leaving him to his own fate.
As the convoy continued its slow crawl along the winding road, the youth was jolted awake by the rough path, still a mile from the bend.
"Water... water..." The boy’s voice was faint, but the old eunuch, who had been tending to him, was overjoyed. He shouted loudly, "Stop! Quick, stop the carriage! Call General Wu! His Highness has finally awakened!" The couriers near the carriage, as if waiting for the signal, immediately raced toward the commanding general.
"Eunuch Wang, how is His Highness? Is he better?" The general arrived quickly and leaned into the carriage, asking with concern.
After sipping some water, the boy regained a shred of strength. This was his N-th time losing consciousness since entering the mountains, but this had been the longest—three days. The whole convoy had lost hope, and the youth’s stubborn resilience took them all by surprise.
"General Wu... Eunuch Wang... I am fine. Just too tired. Please, let the group rest. Thank you all for your hard work..."
"Young master, don't say another word. Just rest. We swear to follow you to the death!" The old eunuch interrupted, fearing the boy would strain himself.
"His Highness should rest. I will order the convoy to halt immediately!" General Wu said, looking at the pale but wise-eyed youth.
"Good... all of you... take a rest as well!" With that, the boy closed his eyes to conserve even the smallest amount of energy. He was not a man easily defeated by hardship.
About half an hour later, the convoy began to crawl forward again. The youth propped himself up against the golden pillows, clearly having recovered a bit of strength. Just as the carriage reached a point twenty meters before the bend, a continuous, rumbling roar suddenly erupted from the mountain top to the right. Before anyone in the group could look up, countless massive boulders came crashing down from the hillside.
"No! Protect His Highness! Enemy attack!" Quick as lightning, the general dashed toward the carriage.
In an instant, the entire convoy was thrown into chaos, every face etched with despair. For these ordinary soldiers, the landslide was insurmountable; each boulder carried the force of a thousand jun, and contact meant death.
As hope faded, the first giant boulder loomed over the carriage. It was the size of a millstone and threatened to crush the vehicle to dust. The general, sprinting toward them, stomped his foot and used all his strength as a Ninth-Rank Martial Master to push against the stone. Even with his immense strength, he could only slightly alter its trajectory. The boulder clipped the left side of the carriage roof, then thundered onto the edge of the road, whistling as it plummeted into the abyss.
The impact of the boulder shattered the carriage. Half of it was demolished, and the remaining half tumbled over the cliff along with the stone. It all happened in a heartbeat. The general was left suspended in mid-air with no leverage. By the time he landed, the carriage had already vanished into the bottomless chasm.
"Your Highness..."
With a roar of bitter regret, the call was swallowed by the deafening, continuous thunder of falling rocks.
Before the boulder hit, the old eunuch had tightly shielded the boy, using his own shoulders to absorb the crushing pressure. He spat out a mouthful of blood, and after surviving the initial impact, he and the remains of the carriage plunged into the unfathomable depths of the mountain ravine.