A soldier rushed into the throne room, his voice urgent. "My lord, the Astaran prince is on the verge of breaking free!" Intense and glaring sunlight bounced off his gleaming white armor, illuminating the crystal pillars of the chamber in a vibrant glow. A faint scent of incense filled the room, blending its sweet and earthy fragrance.
This news filled Lord Muchen's heart with anxiety as he murmured, "That cannot be..."
Lord Muchen, a middle-aged man, wore a long, white robe that signified his authority. His hair, tied back in sections and as black as night, allowed a few stray strands to frame his sharp features. Atop his head rested a golden crown, its twisted plant stem design symbolizing his connection to nature and his role as ruler.
Muchen's hands trembled without control. "Seal... that... demon," he urged in a strained voice, his teeth clenched to the point of almost shattering, his eyes bulging with fear. "Summon all the high gods. IMMEDIATELY!"
"Yes, my lord," the fairy soldier bowed, only to be interrupted by the ground shaking with great force. Both their eyes widened in shock.
"Hurry!" Muchen scowled in disdain. 'If Feng Deming roams free, our demise is inevitable.'
~*~
Deming tilted his head, regarding the fairy general with a cold stare as the general's breath hitched, sweat trickling down his forehead. Overwhelmed by fear, he could only meet the demon prince's sharp, menacing gaze with trembling eyes.
The fairy general appeared to be in his mid-twenties. Long silver hair added to his handsome appearance, and an elegant gold head chain with a jewel hanging from it rested against his forehead, matching his vibrant blue eyes.
The demon's golden eyes now blazed fiery red, his dark aura pulsating and radiating eerie energy as he clenched his fists. Time froze, and in an instant, a violent eruption shook the dungeon.
The unfortunate fairies near him vanished in a cloud of smoke, the painful screams of hundreds echoing throughout the dungeon. The air filled with a strong, smoky odor of burnt matches and materials for those who survived the attack.
The general, overwhelmed, succumbed to the ruthless assault. Drops of blood trickled from his trembling lips as he muttered in confusion and fear, "What... what is he?"
"Make sure you prepare well for my return," Deming declared with a cold grin as he ascended into the air. Fierce black flames erupted from his back, forming broad wings that crackled and burned. A swirling cloud of black smoke surrounded him as he departed, leaving behind a bone-chilling nightmare for the witnesses.
Muchen and his soldiers stormed into the dungeon, their eyes sweeping over the dusty area with heavy hearts, taking in the remains of their loved ones reduced to ashes. Shock and grief gripped them, their jaws dropping as they struggled to comprehend the loss. Frustration and sorrow tightened their fists, some suppressing tears at the sight of their once-living comrades, now gone.
"L-Lord Muchen," the general clung to life, his voice a weak whisper.
Muchen, paralyzed with fear, snapped back to reality, turning his attention to the fortunate survivors. His eyes fell on the injured man lying on the ground who had spoken his name and recognized him. "Yize..."
"I... I failed in my duty." Yize's eyes narrowed in pain. Two of Muchen's soldiers knelt beside him, reaching out their arms to help him as he tried to get back on his feet.
Yet, before he could gather himself, Muchen's gaze froze him in place, like ice on a winter's day. He bowed his head in shame, bearing the silent disappointment of his lord.
In the middle of the wrecked dungeon, Muchen clenched his fists, his eyes bulging with rage. His voice, dripping with evil authority and hatred, commanded, "Seize him!"
Muchen had long acknowledged Feng Deming as the greatest threat to their realm, a truth guarded among a select few since ancient times.
Millions of years ago, a prophecy foretold the fairies' eventual downfall. An indestructible soul would split into two halves: one possessing the power of insight and compassion, and the other, overwhelming strength and immortality. These two souls would inhabit an Astaran man and woman, and together, they would rule all realms, destroying the high fairy lords and their entire foundation, ending the era of the fairies.
After many generations, rumors of Feng Deming's unmatched strength and combat skills spread with great speed throughout the Fairy Realm, leading Muchen to identify him as the other prophesied soul destined to bring about their downfall.
~*~
Deming soared across the sky, his black robes billowing in the wind. A gentle breeze caressed his face, tousling his straight, silky hair. He had long imagined this moment—reuniting with the sunlight's warmth and the wind on his skin. It had been an eternity since he last tasted such freedom, and the distant horizon beckoned him back to Astara, his home.
But a disturbance shattered his peaceful journey as an energy beam approached from behind. With flawless precision, he dodged the attack, tilting his shoulder and spinning to face his opponents.
A group of fairy soldiers hovered in the air, their auras shimmering in the sunlight. They moved in sync, tracing complex patterns with their hands, starting with a circular motion. With both palms pressed together, they unleashed another beam.
Deming smirked, his eyes reflecting the flickering light of the beams. "They're courting their demise."
Blazing fire emanated from his eyes. He raised his arms and redirected them back toward the soldiers until they met their end, exploding in blinding light and deafening noise. Arms crossed, a fleeting satisfaction softened his aloof demeanor as he took in the explosion.
"You tried," he mused, giving a short, dismissive wave before resuming his flight. A faint spark of amusement flickered in his eyes as he considered his personal plans for Lord Muchen. Leaving the Fairy Realm behind, his form blended with the clear blue sky as revenge consumed him on his journey back to his realm.
~*~
"Hope is a fragile illusion... Once he returns to us, Feng Deming will beg for mercy before the end," Lord Muchen murmured, his smirk unfurling like a serpent coiling around its prey, venomous and inevitable.
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