The hidden chamber was silent.
Long Tianyuan lay on a simple mat, breaths shallow.
Meridians scorched, Qi sluggish.
Scale-like marks beneath his skin glowed faintly, imperceptible to casual observation.
A faint odor—iron and smoke—hung in the air.
His mother knelt beside him, fingers pressed lightly over his chest.
She shifted the fabric, concealing the subtle marks of dragon aura.
Outside, the chamber door barely moved, but subtle tremors in spiritual Qi alerted distant senses.
Long Zhenhai, patriarch of the main branch, paused in the ancestral hall.
Qi refined to the 9th layer, he felt the disturbance through the clan's spiritual network.
The fluctuation was small, but distinct.
Not natural. Not accidental.
He narrowed his eyes.
"Elders," he said, voice low, controlled. "Have you felt it?"
Three supervising elders exchanged glances.
One, at Foundation Establishment level, nodded slightly.
"A trace… similar to forbidden dragon remnants," he murmured.
Silence followed.
Another elder, higher still, shook his head subtly.
"Not fully awakened. Weak. But present. Persistent."
Long Zhenhai's gaze hardened.
"Hidden too long," he muttered. "Side branch fragments never die quietly."
One elder coughed softly.
"Patriarch… could it be a false reading? The boy is weak. Meridians burned."
"False or not," Zhenhai replied, voice like iron, "it does not change the threat. Observation must be discreet. Immediate."
They fell silent again, letting subtle tension grow.
Inside the hidden chamber, Tianyuan's chest rose and fell unevenly.
The faint glow beneath his skin pulsed rhythmically.
His mother's fingers tightened slightly over the scales.
A servant outside shifted nervously.
She spoke in a whisper. "Keep the room quiet. Do not breathe over him. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Madam Long," the servant replied.
Her eyes flicked toward the door.
"Nothing must reveal him. Not yet. Not until we know what remains."
She lowered her voice further.
"The main branch has always monitored the remnants. Side branches are never allowed to rise again."
Outside, elders in the ancestral hall continued their subtle observation.
A low murmur passed between them.
"The Imperial Dragon Mandate… fragments once survived the cleansing of the side branches," one elder said.
Another responded quietly, "Yes. Main branch ensured no trace could awaken. Until now."
Zhenhai's expression hardened.
"Let it be noted: we cannot risk exposure. Quiet observation. Any public awakening must be eliminated immediately, before word reaches the city."
Subtle nods followed.
One elder added, "The boy is weak now, but that weakness may be a veil. The dragon blood is latent. If it awakens…"
Zhenhai's gaze cut across the hall.
"Then it becomes a challenge to main branch dominance. We will act decisively. No hesitation."
Inside the chamber, Tianyuan's eyelids fluttered.
A faint surge of dragon aura rippled beneath the scorched meridians.
His breaths remained shallow, but instinct stirred faintly within.
Mother noticed, tightening her hand over the concealed scale.
"Don't move," she whispered.
Outside, a faint shift in Qi drew the elders' attention again.
They sensed the faint pulse, subtle but persistent.
"Even unconscious… the bloodline pulses," one whispered.
"Yes," another replied. "Patriarch, this is more than a boy with a weak root. It is a fragment of the forbidden bloodline itself."
Long Zhenhai's mind ran through decades of clan politics.
Side branches had been monitored for generations.
Imperial Dragon Mandate fragments had been hunted, suppressed, cleansed.
The thought of one fragment surviving, hidden in this half-broken boy, stoked a cold calculation within him.
Orders passed silently. Observation only. Quiet. Discreet. No one must know.
A faint click outside the chamber.
Mother's eyes narrowed. Subtle, precise.
She adjusted the blanket over Tianyuan, hiding the trace of scales.
"Nothing can betray him," she said softly.
Servant bowed, silent.
The elders remained in the hall, exchanging glances.
Every shift of qi, every tremor in the hidden chamber, spoke volumes.
Tianyuan remained unaware. Half-conscious, he breathed weakly.
Yet his latent dragon instinct pulsed quietly, surviving the harsh trial of the lightning.
Long Zhenhai remained seated.
"This cannot continue unchecked," he muttered.
A final order whispered through the hall:
"Monitor the boy. If dragon blood awakens publicly… eliminate before the city notices."
The air thickened.
Every elder absorbed the weight of the decree.
The smell of dragon blood—faint, metallic, and lingering—permeated the hidden quarters.
It was a reminder.
A threat.
And a silent signal of power buried deep within the weak boy.
Tianyuan's body remained still.
Yet beneath the surface, the scales glimmered faintly.
A pulse of dormant instinct, waiting.
The main branch's ruthlessness, the hidden history of the side branch, the subtle tremors of forbidden bloodline—all intertwined silently.
And somewhere beneath consciousness, Long Tianyuan's survival instinct stirred.
The future of the clan, the danger of exposure, the fragile balance of power—all lay quietly, waiting for the scales to awaken.
The room settled.
Silence dominated.
But the air still hummed faintly with qi.
The smell of dragon blood lingered.
Subtle, metallic. Threatening.
And unseen, the latent fragments of Imperial Dragon Mandate stirred beneath Tianyuan's skin.
No one in the hidden chamber moved.
Yet all knew.
The threat was alive.
And it would not remain silent forever.
Tianyuan's body remained weak, breathing raggedly.
Dragon blood pulsed, lightning essence still faintly lingering within veins.
Meridians charred, dantian unstable.
Every breath a reminder of fragility.
Instinct churned quietly beneath pain.
Mother remained vigilant, hand pressed over the scale marks.
Subtle motions concealed. No one else could see.
Orders from the main branch elders echoed in thought: monitor, contain, act decisively.
The hidden political tension thickened.
Every observer knew: the boy was not merely weak.
He carried a fragment of a forbidden legacy.
Patriarch's calculation cold as iron.
Side branch's potential threat quietly marked.
The room's air heavy.
The smell of dragon blood persisted.
Silent, metallic, patient.
Tianyuan's pulse grew steadier, faint dragon aura beneath scales.
Unaware of the eyes tracking him, the whispers of power surrounding him.
The main branch's ruthlessness, the side branch's secret, and the hidden boy converged in quiet tension.
And in that stillness, the latent instinct of survival pulsed beneath charred meridians.
The scale marks glimmered faintly, unseen.
Awaiting the day they would awaken.
The decree lingered in the hall outside:
"If that blood awakens… eliminate it before the city notices."
Silence fell.
The threat, political and spiritual, now intertwined.
Tianyuan breathed.
Dragon blood slept, but not dead.
And the smell lingered.
Faint. Metallic. Dangerous.
The boy's survival, the main branch's vigilance, and the forbidden legacy—woven together, waiting.
The hidden chamber remained still.
But nothing in the Long Clan would ever be the same again.