Another Cliché Cultivation Story

Hong Tian had never felt so captivated. She was unlike the others from the Upper World— though she was from above, her origins lay in a realm beyond it. In that realm, she and her people, the Feys, knew only of death. Isolated and bound by their duties, they were the only ones left of the four supreme races to remain in that place, and news of the outside rarely reached them.

Hong Tian had heard tales of Empress Han Lan before, in stories told by her older sister, and it was through her older sister that she learned of Han Lan’s conflict with the Graha race. Han Lan had slain the direct descendant of their Progenitor. When word of this reached the Upper World, it flipped the entire realm upside down as chaos ensued. The matter became so immense that even the Feys had heard of it.

At the time, Hong Tian was still young, and Han Lan’s name had only ever been mentioned a couple of times. While it was shocking news, it had nothing to do with the Feys— especially given their strained relations with the three supreme races. Thus, it was quickly dismissed. However, after Hong Tian arrived in the Mortal Desolate World, she became interested in this woman. The more research she did on the Empress, the more she marveled at her unparalleled accomplishments.

“There’s actually someone on the same level as my big sister. Incredible,” Hong Tian muttered admirably. Though she felt Han Lan was incredible, she didn’t think her big sister was in any way inferior. Whether or not this was true, one could only wonder.

“Other than Empress Han Lan, there could be no one else who obtained my senior’s legacy,” Hong Tian remarked. But as she took in the decrepit state of the palace, a wave of uncertainty washed over her.

“However… I haven’t felt any resonance from it. Is it possible that it’s not here in the Amber Soul Kingdom?” Hong Tian wondered thoughtfully.

At this moment, another dense ring of fog crashed into her. This one, being even larger and stronger than the previous one.

“Those Graha and their soul pulses are truly annoying,” she muttered with a frown. Just like before, she remained strangely unaffected, with only the golden flame symbol on her forehead glowing softly.

“It won’t be much longer before they find me,” Hong Tian murmured, without an ounce of worry. Though she was alone, she held no fear for the Graha or the Nether race.

“The Graha… it’s been a long time since I’ve seen them. I suppose it’s only right to offer my greetings,” she said, her tone calm, though her emotions were far from it. Beneath her tranquil appearance, a generational hatred stirred.

“The traitorous Graha. Indeed, it has been a while.”

Hong Tian vanished, allowing peace and silence to once again return to the palace chambers.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Unbeknownst to her, after the second soul pulse dissipated from the air, three letters materialized on the backrest of the shattered throne. They read: [HAN]. Triggered by the Graha’s own doing, the letters pulsed with a soft, azure-colored light, and they shared written similarities to a certain black book’s cover— one that had once been sold by the Solitude Auction House.

Far away, in the Ardent Yin Sect, nestled inside the robe of an unreliable man who looked to be sleeping, that same book— with [LAN] on its exterior— began to pulse in perfect synchrony with the glowing letters on the throne.

The essence of the world, as though heeded by a call, began to gather and flow into the book. The more essence it absorbed, the more it thrummed, and on the shattered throne, an outline of a figure slowly began to form. Its construction was slow but as time passed, a world-shattering power was coalescing.

Neither Hong Tian nor the members of the Graha and Nether races were aware of the event unfolding within the palace chambers.

Outside, General Fuhai and his men didn’t use their soul pulse again. They were currently focused on an individual who had emerged above them.

Hong Tian hovered in the sky, her flowing dress billowing in the wind, as she looked down at the group below with a gaze of cold indifference.

Except for Fuhai and Di Han— who had a grave expression, the others looked at her as if she were an insect.

Fanhuo, on the other hand, had a face of uncertainty. He inspected this young woman before him and felt she was familiar.

She resembles someone. Where have I seen her before? And this feeling… almost like she is incompatible with this world— like she doesn’t belong. Wait, no. It’s because of her essence! It’s her perfect harmonization of essence that’s causing that weird feeling. ȑаΝОꞖЁŠ

Impossible! She’s a Fey! Only the Feys have that innate ability!

What’s a Fey doing in the Lower World?

Fanhuo was in a daze. Taken aback by the appearance of Hong Tian, and it was rightfully so, everyone knew the Fey was duty-bound to the realm beyond. It was exceptionally rare to see one in the Upper World let alone the Lower World.

Fuhai and Di Han could deduce her origin as well but unlike Fanhuo, they knew exactly who Hong Tian was. It was because of this that they were so slow in their reaction.

Due to their shock, they failed to notice one of their men making a move. One of the Graha, annoyed by Hong Tian’s demeaning attitude, raised his hand and sent a beam of fog toward her.

“WAIT!”

“STOP!”

Their cry was too late. The attack targeted Hong Tian at the speed of light. Surprisingly, she didn’t try to avoid it and it struck her. If it was anyone else, perhaps their soul would’ve already been destroyed but she only felt a mild discomfort.

Fuhai was furious. He glared at the Graha who attacked and just as he was about to admonish him, Hong Tian spoke.

“You dare to make a move on me?” She said slowly, attracting everyone’s attention. “Oh, traitorous old friends, after leaving us in the realm of death, it looks like you have forgotten our past relations. In that case, for the price of attacking a princess of Fey, the punishment is… death!”

A white and black flame suddenly erupted from within the Graha’s soul essence vessel, igniting his translucent form in an instant. The Graha hadn’t even had time to react. He dropped to his knees, mouth open in a silent scream of agony, but before the sound could escape, his entire being was consumed by the flame—reduced to nothingness.

Fuhai and Di Han had an ugly expression while the others had looks of horror.

Fanhuo took a step back, a realization struck him as he finally remembered something. He stammered, “Noble Beast Lineage— the Duality Hound of Fey.”

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