Chapter 172: 172. Song of the Storms – 3

As William stepped through the door and vanished from the hall, the space returned to its previous stillness. The faint echo of his footsteps faded, and the carved wooden doors sealed shut as if nothing unusual had occurred.

Storm Dragon Yun Long remained seated on his cushion without moving, his hands resting lightly on his knees. His gaze stayed fixed on the empty air where William had stood only moments earlier.

For a long time he did not blink.

The conversation had disturbed an old layer of memory that he rarely allowed himself to revisit. From time to time he let out a quiet sigh, not out of frustration, but out of the weight of remembrance.

***

20,000 years ago….

When the continent of Aris was vastly different from what it had become, the ancient Empire of Storm-Bridge stood tall beside the mighty Sky Break Empire of Titans.

Storm-Bridge was built upon the spine of a sacred mountain so high that its peak often pierced through the clouds. The capital city did not simply rest on the mountain.

It clung to it, carved into the sheer cliffs in ascending tiers that followed the natural slope with astonishing, unbelievable harmony.

Stone ramparts curved along the ridges, constructed from pale jade-white granite streaked with veins of gold that shimmered faintly beneath the thin mountain light.

The walls flowed and bent with the terrain as though shaped by rivers over countless centuries. Beyond those walls, layered courtyards climbed upward in measured symmetry, each tier carefully aligned with the next.

Pagoda towers crowned the highest levels of the city. Their sweeping eaves arched outward like the wings of cranes in flight, and the roof tiles were lacquered in deep emerald hues mixed with blackened bronze.

Golden inscriptions ran along beams and pillars, ancient characters etched with such precision that they appeared brushed by nature itself rather than carved by mortal hands.

Silk banners embroidered with drifting clouds hung from the corners of buildings.

Around the tallest pagoda, radiant talismans rotated in slow circular patterns, glowing with controlled power. Bridges of carved stone arced between separate cliff faces, their railings were shaped into twisting serpents that seemed almost alive under the drifting mountain mist.

Hanging gardens cascaded down the mountainside in terraces, overflowing with luminous flowers that thrived even in thin air. The streets were broad and immaculate, paved with polished stone that reflected the faint sunlight like calm water.

Crystal lampposts lined the avenues, each crowned with floating orbs that glowed steadily without flicker. Multiple formations and protective arrays overlapped across the city, woven together in layers that ensured its defense at all times.

Storm-Bridge was a place that had mastered magic and the applications of mana to their highest refinement. It had bent natural forces to its will, blending architecture and mana into seamless unity.

Yet on that day, the city was silent.

The wide streets were empty. The long banners remained still. There was no sound of footsteps, no murmur of voices. Within miles of the sacred mountain, no living presence could be sensed.

At the very center of the city stood a grand palace built primarily of ancient wood reinforced with powerful runes. Within that palace there were signs of life, but that life flickered like a candle in violent wind.

The great hall bore marks of devastation. Stone flooring had been cracked and scraped as if something enormous had crashed through it. Broken fragments lay scattered near the walls.

A human figure lay pinned against one of those walls.

A radiant and terrifying golden spear had pierced through him and embedded itself deep into the stone behind.

Energy swirled around the spear in fierce spirals, as though it had descended from the heavens at unimaginable speed and struck with the force of thunder.

The man’s breathing was ragged. Blood stained his robes and pooled beneath him. His eyes were dim as they shifted toward a small figure at his side.

A child stood there, sobbing uncontrollably. His hair was turquoise, and his draconic horns were crystalline, shimmering faintly under the filtered light. His small hands clutched the injured man’s arm desperately.

“Yun Long… you should leave,” the man said in a weak, muffled voice.

“Big brother!” Yun Long cried, his voice trembling. He held onto the man’s arm as if sheer will alone could prevent fate from unfolding.

The injured man coughed violently and spat out a mouthful of blood. With visible effort, he removed a ring from his finger and pressed it into Yun Long’s shaking hands.

“This contains my inheritance. Train well. Storm will guide you and also take care of our family.”

Yun Long’s small face twisted with grief and anger. “No. I am not going anywhere. I will fight. I will kill that monster.”

He was only ten years old, yet his voice carried fierce determination.

The man gave a faint chuckle despite the blood on his lips. “If someday you grow up and reach the pinnacle… perhaps you will.”

He smiled gently and ruffled Yun Long’s hair.

“For now, you must go.”

Yun Long shook his head violently. No matter how much big brother insisted, he refused to let go.

The man’s expression hardened slightly. He looked past Yun Long, toward something unseen.

“Storm… take him away and take care of him.”

For a brief moment, nothing happened.

Then the air shifted.

A small swirling tornado formed beside them, wind spinning in tight spirals. The wind began to pull at Yun Long’s small body, trying to lift him away.

“No!” Yun Long screamed as he tightened his grip.

His body rose from the ground, suspended by the gathering wind, yet his hands refused to release.

The man met his eyes one last time; a silent farewell passed between them. Then, with his remaining strength, he pried Yun Long’s fingers loose.

Yun Long’s eyes widened in disbelief as the tornado engulfed him completely. No matter how much he struggled, he remained enclosed within the swirling cocoon of wind and water, protected yet restrained.

In mere seconds, the storm carried him away from the palace, away from the sacred mountain, away from the Empire of Storm-Bridge.

From afar, Yun Long saw it.

A massive golden comet descended from the sky.

It was blinding.

The comet struck the land where Yun Long had just stood a few moments ago. A catastrophic burst of compressed energy and debris erupted outward. The sound was so overwhelming that the storm cocoon molded and covered around Yun Long’s ears to shield him from the shockwave.

When he looked back, a vast portion of land had been vaporized.

The Empire of Storm-Bridge and the surrounding territories had ceased to exist in a single moment.

***

Back in the present, Yun Long’s eyes slowly regained focus.

Such flashbacks were not new to him. They had visited him countless times over the centuries. The sound of his brother’s final breath, the sight of the descending comet. Those memories had shaped every step he took afterward.

He exhaled deeply and rose from his cushion.

As he stood and left the hall, the surrounding thick darkness receded, allowing daylight to enter through high lattice windows. The light revealed the true opulence of the chamber.

On one wall hung large ink brush paintings in black watercolor. One depicted a mountainous landscape with a city layered along its cliffs. In the corner, elegant calligraphy named it Storm-Bridge.

On another wall hung a massive map of Aris. The landmass extended far beyond what modern people believed existed. The western boundaries did not end at just the Sky Break Empire.

The map was 20,000 years old.

—-

[A/N: A map of Aris is posted in the world-building auxiliary chap or Discord channel.]

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