Waking Up

The crimson twilight deepened around them, painting the sky in darkening hues as a gust of Spirit Qi raked across the clearing. In a flurry of shifting shadows and swirling wind, more than a dozen cultivators descended, each bearing the crest of the Xiao Family upon their robes. Their collective power weighed on the air like a gathering storm.

They arrived expecting a crisis—a mortal threat bearing down on Princess Wen—yet discovered her standing at the lake's edge, worry etched into her face but otherwise unscathed. Confusion rippled through the group, though none voiced it. She was, after all, the Xiao Family's cherished princess, and her authority glowed as palpably as the distant embers of the sunset.

A masked man in dark attire stepped forward, presumably the expert of the highest rank. His posture was a steel rod of discipline and readiness, yet he seemed unruffled by Xiao Wen's obvious agitation. She hurled a snapping fireball at him in a moment of raw impatience—he merely tilted his head, letting the flame hiss by his ear, then carried on as though nothing had happened.

"Sai," he commanded, his voice low but resonant, "water element is your domain. Create a passage so we can examine the tunnel. Lin, Jin—your formation skills are top-notch; come with me to analyze that barrier. The rest of you, form a perimeter around this valley. Nobody unauthorized gets in."

He paused, sweeping a glare across the rugged forest. "Also, scour the area. If you see anyone hunting, remove them as well. We can't afford interference."

"Yes, sir!" came the unified response, their words reverberating with practiced precision. As they dispersed, a wiry woman with silver-streaked hair strode past, her eyes reflecting a fierce glow. The humidity around her sparked and shimmered, the start of a condensed elemental force that would soon part the water like a curtain.

Wuying hung back, adrenaline still coursing through her veins like poison. Her eyes trailed the people around her, amazed how everyone's cultivation levels radiated with the oppressive weight of the Saint Stage, men and women who could soar through the skies under their own power. So this is her backup? she thought with a swallow, eyes flicking over their stern faces. Just who in the world is Xiao Wen…?

Meanwhile, far across the valley in a gnarled grove of trees, another drama played out. The Crown Prince and a ragged cluster of young men, all sporting disheveled robes and varying injuries, had finally cornered what they believed to be Liu Xuefeng—only to find he'd become motionless, like a puppet abandoned by its master.

"Getting tired of running, are we?" Zhen Ping snarled, voice raw with frustration. He nursed a blackened arm—the residue of the earlier clone explosion. His "friends" circled the inert figure, tension radiating off them.

A cautious voice spoke up from among the group. "Crown Prince… I don't think he's surrendering. Look at him—he's not responding at all."

It was true. The figure's eyes were dull, posture rigid. Then, like a statue crumbling into dust, it began to dissolve, Spirit Qi unraveling in eerie silence until there was nothing left but swirling motes of light.

Zhen Ping's expression contorted in fury. "Another clone?!" His roar startled a murder of crows from the nearby pines. "We've been chasing illusions for hours while he… he's probably long gone by now!"

In a fit of rage, he fired a blazing Qi blast at the space where the clone had stood, charring a circle into the forest floor.

High above them, a black-masked cultivator appeared, hovering on currents of Qi. His voice rumbled like distant thunder: "This valley is off-limits as of now. Depart immediately."

Zhen Ping spun, blood pounding in his ears. "Who the hell are you?!" he snapped, his anger already at its peak. "No one orders the Crown Prince! My Father is the Emperor!"

His companions, seeing the Saint-level aura rolling off the masked man, scrambled away. One of them blurted, "W-we're not with him, sir! Please, let us go!" They summoned their flight-capable Spirit Beasts, eager to leave this fiasco behind.

The masked figure waved a dismissive hand, ignoring the scattering men. Zhen Ping found himself alone, overshadowed by a cultivator who could likely crush him without blinking. A tremor of fear rippled through him.

"Uh… about what I said—" he began, throat tight.

In a blur, the masked man appeared at his side, striking him in the arm with two precise finger jabs. Pain ricocheted through Zhen Ping's shoulder, forcing a ragged cry from his lips.

"You have ten seconds to leave," the man intoned coolly, "or the next blow will take your head."

Whimpering, Zhen Ping fumbled with his Beast Token. A Rank 4 Lightning Sparrow materialized, and he hauled himself onto its back, cradling his wounded arm. As he rose into the sky, he hurled a final, hate-laced curse down at the empty clearing below.

"Damn you, Xuefeng… This is all your fault!"

***

Time ebbed away after Xuefeng's disappearance beneath the water. Eventually, Wuying settled into a restless silence, gnawing at her lip as Xiao Wen and the masked cultivators coordinated their efforts. But miles away—or perhaps worlds away—Xuefeng stirred in a bed he did not recognize.

His head throbbed lightly, but otherwise he felt… surprisingly intact. Slowly, he blinked at the space around him. The air carried a pleasant, herbal fragrance, and the room was furnished with carved tables and chairs crafted from multicolored woods. Intricate patterns and symbols decorated every surface, weaving a sense of mystery into the place.

Sunlight fell through an open window, illuminating the bed—a soft, plush thing draped in silk covers. Xuefeng realized with a jolt that he was entirely naked beneath them. Heart hammering, he scrambled up, crossing to the window in a few quick steps. His clothes hung from a line just outside, swaying gently in the breeze.

He tugged them on, mind racing. Where the hell am I?

Stepping onto the small balcony, Xuefeng's gaze traveled upward. To his shock, huge, intertwining branches soared overhead like a natural roof, blocking much of the sky. It felt as if he stood inside a sprawling tree, its trunk and limbs hollowed out for living spaces.

At the balcony's edge, he leaned over the railing and looked down—only to see more branches and platforms below, some connected by winding staircases, others by rope bridges. Sunbeams filtered through thick foliage, dappling the wooden walkways in soft, golden patterns. It was a breathtaking sight, both serene and utterly alien.

"What is this place?" Xuefeng murmured, his breath catching in his throat. The last thing Xuefeng remembered was watery darkness and a vine coiling around his legs. Now he stood in what seemed like a living, arboreal city suspended above the ground, far from any forest he knew.