79. The Forgotten Name

Ling Tian and Xu Qing'er moved swiftly through the dense forest, the morning mist curling around them like lingering spirits. The air was thick with an ominous silence, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Xu Qing'er had sensed it too. Something had changed after last night.

"…Ling Tian."

He didn't slow his pace, but he acknowledged her with a glance.

"You haven't spoken since we left."

His gaze darkened. "Because I'm remembering things I shouldn't."

Xu Qing'er's eyes flickered with understanding. "The throne?"

He nodded. "And the hand that tried to stop me from remembering it."

A chill passed through the air.

"Someone went to great lengths to erase your past," she murmured. "But why allow fragments to surface now?"

That was the question that troubled him. Why now?

Whoever had sealed his memories had done so meticulously. But something—or someone—was beginning to undo their work.

And it was leading him somewhere.

---

The Village That Should Not Exist

They traveled for hours until they reached a place that shouldn't exist.

A village, untouched by time. Small wooden houses lined the stone paths, and the scent of burning incense drifted in the air.

But something was… off.

The villagers moved too perfectly—as if their lives followed an unseen script. Their expressions were frozen in time, their eyes glassy.

Ling Tian's fingers twitched. Illusion? Or something worse?

Xu Qing'er's hand rested on her sword. "We shouldn't be here."

"I agree," Ling Tian muttered. "Which is exactly why we're staying."

As they walked further in, whispers filled the air.

"He has returned."

"The lost one walks among us again."

"Does he remember?"

Ling Tian's steps halted.

"Who are you?" he called out, his voice steady.

The villagers turned in unison. Their eyes—empty, yet eerily knowing—fixed on him.

And then, one spoke.

A frail old man, standing at the village center.

"You do not remember, child of the Vanquished Throne."

Ling Tian's breath caught.

The Vanquished Throne. Again.

The old man stepped forward, his wrinkled fingers trembling.

"But the time has come. You must recall the name you once bore."

Ling Tian's heart pounded.

His true name?

Memories stirred at the edges of his mind, just out of reach.

And then—

A flash. A voice.

"You were never meant to return."

Pain exploded in his skull, forcing him to his knees.

Xu Qing'er was at his side instantly, her eyes flashing with urgency. "Ling Tian!"

But his vision blurred.

A name. A forgotten name.

It was there. He could almost—

Then, everything went dark.

---

The Vanquished Throne Awakens

When Ling Tian awoke, he was no longer in the village.

He stood in an endless void, an ancient battlefield stretching before him.

Corpses of gods and devils littered the ground.

And at the center of it all—

That throne again.

It called to him, whispering in a voice that was both familiar and unknown.

And this time—

No one stopped him from remembering.

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