047 The Grand Feast
The Grand Feast was in full swing. Laughter and music intertwined with the rhythmic beat of festival drums, their echoes seeping into the manor like an unrelenting tide. From my window, I watched as dragons—long, sinuous constructs of silk and light—danced through the streets, weaving between lanterns that glowed like fallen stars. By the gates, food stalls displayed their finest offerings, their rich aroma enough to make even the most disciplined cultivators waver.
Yet, I had no time to indulge.
Moving deeper into the estate, I passed through corridors teeming with servants and guests. Some cast me fleeting glances, whispering to their companions, while others merely spared a nod before continuing on their way. Asking for directions would be the quickest way forward, but I had to be cautious—too much attention was never wise.
I caught the sleeve of a passing attendant. "Where is His Highness' office?"
The man blinked, momentarily startled. "Lord Ren Jin? Past the second courtyard, my lord."
I gave a brief nod and continued.
A guard stationed along the hall narrowed his eyes. "State your business."
"Matters of importance," I answered vaguely.
He seemed unimpressed but gestured further down the corridor.
Considering the guard's attitude, it seemed words of my feat were yet to fully disseminate.
After several more inquiries, I arrived at a quiet hall, removed from the revelry outside. Here, the air was still, the festive clamor reduced to a distant hum. Standing before a large lacquered door was a lone figure—armor gleaming even in the dim candlelight, her posture rigid, unmoving.
Chief Enforcer Liang Na.
Her gaze swept over me, cold and assessing, her fingers resting lightly on the pommel of her sword. I halted a respectful distance away and greeted her with a slight bow.
"Chief Enforcer."
She inclined her head slightly. "Your purpose?"
"I seek an audience with Ren Jin."
She studied me in silence. There was something about Liang Na that always felt… inscrutable. Not sinister, but distant—like a mountain unmoved by passing storms. Even now, as she turned to knock on the door, her movements were precise, effortless.
A voice from within granted permission. Liang Na pushed open the door without another word.
Inside, Ren Jin rose from his seat, his expression unreadable, and offered a martial salute—fist to palm.
I returned the gesture.
"Sit," he said, motioning to the chair across from him.
"I owe you an apology," Ren Jin said, his tone measured. "The imperial summons—I did not foresee it. Had I known, I would have given you due warning."
I leaned back, folding my arms. "Then you had no say in this?"
He exhaled through his nose, weariness creeping into his expression. "The decree came directly from His Majesty. Even if I had known in advance, I doubt I could have altered the outcome."
I clicked my tongue. "Then send word that I will not be attending."
Ren Jin sighed, rubbing his temple. "That would be… highly inadvisable."
"Oh?" I arched a brow.
He met my gaze with a flat look. "It is an imperial decree, not an invitation one declines on a whim. Even if its wording was courteous, it carries the weight of the Empire. To refuse would be to make a statement—one that the court will not overlook."
That was troubling. My frown deepened. "Do you know why he has summoned me?"
Ren Jin hesitated. Then, with reluctance, he admitted, "I may have been… hasty in submitting my report regarding the Great Enemy."
I narrowed my eyes. "Hasty how?"
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "The Emperor has sought signs of the Great Enemy for years. My report confirmed that the threat has resurfaced. And you, Da Wei, are one of the few who have faced it directly—and lived."
I stared at him. "So you believe this is about that?"
Ren Jin nodded. "It is the most likely reason. His Majesty does not take such matters lightly. He may wish to hear your firsthand account." He paused, then added, "Or…"
I caught the shift in his tone. "Or?"
His gaze sharpened. "Or he may have something else in mind."
I sat in silence, weighing his words. The Emperor knew of the Great Enemy. More than that—he called it by the very name I would have used in my mother tongue. That was unsettling.
I glanced at Ren Jin. "How long have you known of the Great Enemy?"
His fingers drummed lightly against the desk. "Not long."
"How much do you understand about them?"
He exhaled through his nose. "Only what you have told me."
I frowned. "You mean—?"
He gave a slow nod. "Before your explanation, I had no true concept of them. The term was foreign to me. I relayed my findings to the Empire, detailing what I had learned from you. Only then did I receive confirmation from above that the Great Enemy was a known entity."
I narrowed my eyes. "So you only recently learned what they were—after sending your report?"
"Exactly."
That was… odd. The Empire knew something. The question was—how long had they known?
Ren Jin reached into his desk drawer and withdrew a small statue, placing it on the table between us. The moment I laid eyes on it, my skin prickled.
It was a demon. Not just any demon—but one exactly like those from Lost Legends Online.
I picked it up, turning it over in my palm. The craftsmanship was eerily precise—the sharp, angular features, the curve of the horns, even the texture of the sculpted flesh. It was unmistakable.
"Where did you get this?" I asked.
Ren Jin leaned back. "It arrived after my report reached the Empire. Along with a single message: Be wary of devil worshippers."
I stared at him. "That's it?"
"That's it."
That was curious. The Empire knew. They had their own name for it. They even possessed iconography that matched the demons from LLO. But they hadn't briefed their own prince until after he'd reported it?
Just how long had the Empire been aware of the Great Enemy?
Ren Jin tapped the table, his gaze flicking toward the stack of scrolls beside him. "After the incident with… the Demon, I did some digging."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Wordlessly, he unrolled the first scroll and slid it across the table. The ink was old but well-preserved, the characters chronicling an event from nine hundred years ago—a calamity that swept the land, leaving only bones in its wake.
"The Undead Calamity," Ren Jin murmured, watching my expression. "Nine hundred years ago, the dead refused to stay dead. Entire dynasties fell to the relentless tide of walking corpses. No one knows what started it. Only that it ended as abruptly as it began."
I frowned, flipping through the brittle parchment. "So… cultivators? Some forbidden technique gone wrong?" Necromancers, most likely. Or maybe the Gods of the Underworld faction ripping a hole in the fabric of reality to stage an invasion.
Ren Jin shook his head. "No. By all accounts, this was not the work of mortals."
That was troubling. I set the scroll aside as he pulled out another.
"This one details what happened seven hundred years ago," Ren Jin continued.
I scanned the text. Unlike the first, this spoke of a quieter catastrophe. Kingdoms vanished—not through war, not through plague, but through utter erasure. One day, they thrived. The next, they were gone.
I looked up. "You're telling me entire civilizations just… ceased to exist?"
It sounded like the work of Angels.
So the Heaven Faction had also tried its hand at conquering this world.
Ren Jin's lips pressed into a thin line. "There are no remains. No ruins. No records beyond those written after the event."
A cold weight settled in my stomach. If not for these historical accounts, no one would have even known those kingdoms had ever existed. I pushed the scroll away.
"And this one?" I gestured to the final parchment.
Ren Jin's expression darkened. "The Bizarre War."
I took the scroll and read. Three hundred years ago, something changed. Immortals—those who had reached the pinnacle of cultivation—began to lose their minds. Some vanished. Some turned on their own sects. Others waged war against the world itself.
I exhaled. "So what, insanity? Possession?"
"No one knows," Ren Jin admitted. "What is known is that the chaos shook heaven and earth. The war devastated the world. Those who were once revered as protectors became its greatest threats."
That sounded a lot like the work of the Eldritch Faction.
I set the scroll down and met his gaze. "And this was the most brutal calamity yet?"
Ren Jin nodded. "It was. The chaos wiped out sects, kingdoms, entire bloodlines. But it also created an opportunity—one my father seized. It was during this period of instability that the Empire rose to power."
I absorbed his words, my mind churning. A calamity every few centuries. Each time, the world was reshaped. And now, I was being summoned to the Imperial Capital.
The timing was too convenient.
Okay… let's review.
Undead Calamity? Definitely the Underworld's work. Walking corpses wiping out dynasties? Classic necrotic interference.
Vanished civilizations? Heaven's doing. Erasing entire kingdoms without a trace? That reeked of divine meddling.
Immortals going insane and waging war? Had Eldritch written all over it. The kind of madness that didn't come from deviation but from something outside the system.
And now? Xianxia Land was about to get the demon experience.
The pattern was obvious. Every few centuries, the Great Enemy made its move on this world. And every time, it failed.
The world still stood. The Empire still ruled. The major sects still existed.
Props to this world's cultivators for holding their ground, but… why?
Why did the Great Enemy keep failing? Were they being repelled by something stronger? Or was I misreading the signs?
I rubbed my temples, then looked up at Ren Jin. "What's going to happen to Yellow Dragon City?"
Ren Jin leaned back in his chair. "It depends. With the demon out of the picture, the city will stabilize. It won't fall into chaos, if that's what you're worried about."
I nodded. That was one less thing to think about. "And you?"
He smirked. "I'm a prince, a governor—this city is my domain. I'll raise funds, empower the military, and prepare for the Great Enemy."
"Figures." I exhaled, leaning forward. "I'm thinking of heading to the main continent. Any advice?"
Ren Jin's smirk faded. "You'll find better cultivation techniques there… but you'll also find more competition. Stronger sects, stronger cultivators, and politics more cutthroat than you can imagine."
I expected as much. "And the Emperor? How should I treat him?"
Ren Jin studied me for a moment before answering.
"Carefully."
I raised a brow. "That's vague."
"It's the best advice I can give you."
Ren Jin leaned forward, voice lowering slightly. "You're an outsider, Da Wei. You might have helped the city, but that doesn't mean the Empire trusts you. The Emperor inviting you to tea is already a rare gesture. If you insult him or refuse, you'll be making an enemy you cannot afford to make."
I sighed. "So basically, smile, bow, and try not to piss him off."
"More or less."
"And the Imperial Court?"
Ren Jin's lips curled into a knowing smile. "A den of dragons. If you're lucky, they'll ignore you. If you're unlucky…" His smile widened. "They'll see you as a threat."
Great. Just what I needed.
I leaned back, absorbing everything. The main continent was a bigger stage—a more dangerous one. But if I wanted answers, if I wanted to get stronger, I had no choice but to go.
"I think I'll join the auction," I said.
Ren Jin raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"I'm curious," I admitted. "The demon came all the way here and risked exposing himself. He must've wanted something badly. I want to know what it was."
Ren Jin tapped his fingers against the desk, considering. "Not a bad idea. The auction is closed-door, but with your current status and my word, getting in shouldn't be a problem. I'll send someone to you if it comes to that."
I nodded. "Might as well see what's so special."
"Just be careful," he said, giving me a knowing look. "Try not to cause a scene."
"Duly noted." I stood, stretching. "What do you take me for, Lord Governor?"
"A walking disaster," he replied dryly.
I didn't dignify that with a response.
Stepping out of the office, I took a deep breath. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, spiced wines, and incense, blending into the chaos of the Grand Feast.
From the manor window, I saw dragons—puppeted by skilled performers—twisting and turning through the streets, accompanied by the rhythmic pounding of war drums. Near the gates, long tables overflowed with food, freely distributed to the people. A group of musicians played a lively tune, their instruments ringing over the laughter and chatter of the crowd.
Yellow Dragon City was alive.
And soon, I'd be leaving it behind.
The thought sat oddly in my chest. I never planned to stay here long, but now that my time was running out, a strange reluctance crept in. Maybe it was because this was the first place I'd really lived in this world—fought battles, made connections, gotten dragged into problems way beyond my intent.
Or maybe… I just liked the food.
Either way, I decided I might as well enjoy the little time I had left.
I started walking, letting the festival's energy carry me. Somewhere in this city, the auction would take place. Somewhere among the treasures being sold, I'd find the answer to what Brukhelm had been searching for.
And if it turned out to be something important… well.
I'd make sure it didn't fall into the wrong hands.