Chapter 8: The One Who Will Succeed the Throne

Two months had passed since the battlefield clash that shook the continent.

Inside the imperial palace's deepest medical ward, the Emperor of the Great Empire, Lu Wuyue, finally opened his eyes.

His body remained weak—more bone than man, qi barely flickering—but his gaze held the sharpness of a sword that had weathered a thousand battles.

The first words he uttered:

> "Where… is Lu?"

A nearby servant, startled but relieved, bowed quickly.

> "Your Majesty, the Crown Prince is still in seclusion. He has not emerged from his closed-door cultivation… and we do not know when he will."

Hearing that, the emperor finally exhaled—a rare moment of peace crossing his war-scarred face.

> "Good… he's safe…"

Then came more questions—urgent and sharp.

> "What of the frontlines?"

> "What of the people?"

The updates came swiftly. The border had stabilized after the demon retreat. Minor skirmishes occurred, but morale had soared. The ministers were scrambling to maintain control. All was being managed—for now.

Later that day, the emperor summoned the entire imperial council—generals, ministers, clan heads.

His voice was quiet, but the weight of his words silenced the entire hall:

> "When Lu returns from seclusion… he will ascend the throne."

Gasps filled the room.

Arguments followed.

> "But Your Majesty, the Crown Prince is still a child—"

> "He hasn't even entered court—"

> "He's untested—"

Only a few remained silent: the imperial doctor… and General Lin Hanyuan.

They, and the emperor, knew the truth.

> Lu Wuyue didn't have much time left.

Even with rest and healing elixirs, without burning his qi again, he might survive two more years. At most.

But there was no second heir. No other path. The empire had only one dragon's bloodline left.

---

Meanwhile… inside the sealed chamber beneath the palace

Lu Tianming sat in stillness, eyes glowing with understanding.

After years of study and reform, the once-dominant technique known as the Void Palm was now something far greater. It no longer only crushed space—it danced with the laws of reality.

His cultivation had risen with it.

Time passed differently inside the ancient chamber. While two and a half years passed in the real world, eight years had gone by within.

And now…

The formation seals cracked and crumbled.

The chamber door opened for the first time in nearly a thousand days.

---

The announcement swept through the imperial city:

> "His Highness, Crown Prince Lu Tianming, has emerged!"

From the highest towers to the lowest streets, citizens looked skyward, waiting for a glimpse of the boy who was said to be the future emperor.

But when he appeared…

He wasn't a boy.

Clad in black robes stitched with golden thread, his hair was darker than the night, and his face cold and refined.

But it was his eyes that silenced the world.

Pitch white. Void of emotion. Deeper than the stars.

Not a ripple of expression. Not a flicker of humanity.

He looked not like a 15-year-old prince…

> But like a man who had walked through time… and left something behind.

As Lu Tianming stepped into the sunlight for the first time in over two years, the palace seemed to hold its breath.

The breeze brushed past him gently, but the world itself felt like it bowed in silence.

He walked slowly, every footstep quiet, controlled—but it was not his pace that disturbed those who saw him.

> It was his eyes.

Pure white. Empty. Endless.

They didn't glow with power. They devoured it.

Servants, passing soldiers, even high-ranking cultivators who caught his gaze for just a moment felt a violent chill crawl down their spine, as if something ancient had looked back at them.

Not a boy.

Not a human.

> A being shaped by time, solitude, and something beyond understanding.

Whispers spread like wildfire.

> "That's the Crown Prince…?"

> "Why do his eyes look like that?"

> "Is he… still human?"

But no one dared speak aloud in his presence.

As Lu Tianming approached the inner court, his personal guards—all Level 5 and above, hand-picked by his father—appeared in formation. Their faces were stern, but their eyes held a flicker of awe. Even they, elite among elites, felt pressure leaking from the crown prince.

The head guard stepped forward and dropped to one knee.

> "Your Highness… welcome back."

Lu Tianming paused, nodding faintly.

The guard hesitated before continuing.

> "There's something you must know…"

> "His Majesty—your father—is gravely ill. The physicians say… he may not last much longer."

For the first time, Lu Tianming's expression shifted—but just barely. A flicker of qi stirred around him. Not sadness.

> Stillness.

Like the pause before thunder strikes.

> "Take me to him," he said softly.