Chapter 1348: I Am Zi Qing

Chapter 1348: I Am Ziqing

For a thousand years, the Ziqing Upper Kingdom stood unshaken—until it shattered like glass beneath the siege of ten thousand races.

I watched with my own eyes as my father was torn apart by enemies, my wife’s skull pierced through by a magical artifact, and my young son curled in shadow, growing cold.

I had no time to save them…

Nor the strength to do so…

The moment war erupted, the myriad races cast upon me a curse of unimaginable power, sealing away my cultivation and reducing me to a mortal.

In my grief and fury, my younger brother charged toward the pursuing host and detonated the last vestige of Ziqing’s national fortune—

Pouring that very fortune into my body.

As I drowned beneath its tide, I saw countless eyes staring back at me—

My fallen kin, my subjects—all watching from beyond the veil of time.

I will have vengeance!

…

A millennium of glory crumbled more easily than a jade goblet.

The once-majestic purple auspicious qi, symbol of divine favor, had long been shredded by the foul, blood-soaked winds of the myriad races’ sorcery.

Within and without the imperial capital, those grand jade pillars—once emblems of eternity—now lay as colossal ruins, trembling amid deafening slaughter and the sickening crunch of breaking bones.

I stood upon the shattered dais, my feet sunk in viscous mud of blood. The stench of iron clotted every breath.

Before my eyes, my father—the towering pillar of heaven itself—was seized by a shadow rending space asunder.

I never heard his final cry; I only saw his imperial robe of purple and gold, along with his mighty form, ripped apart by invisible force!

A rain of blood and bone shards rained down, scalding my face.

His burning blood dripped into my eyes, blurring my vision into a crimson haze.

In that deluge of gore, the heavens of Ziqing collapsed utterly.

And I—could do nothing.

My cultivation, my divine arts, even the strength of my flesh—all sealed the instant war began by the combined curses of the myriad races. They stripped me of power, rendered me helpless, made me… human.

And in that moment, I realized—I was not the unbreakable prince the world believed me to be.

My fragility was no less than any other’s.

“Your Highness! This way!” The hoarse shout of a surviving guard cut through the suffocating din.

Like a puppet pulled by unseen strings, I numbly retreated with them.

Just as I passed through the crumbling palace gate, a searing flash in my peripheral vision froze me in place.

It came from the Phoenix Hall—

Engulfed in flames!

My heart quaked. Stumbling forward through smoke and fire, I saw her—my beloved wife.

She leaned against a half-charred pillar, a bloodied silver hairpin driven deep into her temple. Her delicate hand—the one that once adorned my hair with blossoms—hung limp.

Her eyes remained open, gazing emptily at the smoke-choked sky, her frozen pupils still holding traces of unspoken longing.

My outstretched hand hung midair, fingers icy. Something inside my chest shattered soundlessly.

The ancient lotus sigil on my palm—the mark of Ziqing’s royal might—suddenly burned like molten iron, searing my very soul.

“Father…” A voice faint as a kitten’s mewl, trembling with death’s approach, drifted from beneath a collapsed beam.

There, curled in the crushing shadow, lay my seven-year-old son.

His small body was already cold—save for the crude wooden sword I’d carved for him, clutched tightly in his tiny fist, still faintly warm.

I lifted him with shaking arms, but even that feeble warmth fled swiftly, leaving only stiffness and chill.

The wooden sword slipped from his loosened grip—*tap*—a soft clatter against the cold tiles, piercing my ears and heart as sharply as the roars of the invading cultivators.

My father. My wife. My son. My kingdom… all turned cold.

“Run, Your Highness!” The last armored soldiers formed a broken dam with their bodies, desperately holding back the monstrous tide surging from every direction. Their twisted faces bore only despair and resolve to die.

I moved like a severed marionette, swept forward by sheer desperation, crashing through the tottering palace gate into unknown darkness.

Behind me lay a world utterly lost.

The gate groaned under unbearable weight—and collapsed with a thunderous crash.

A razor-sharp, annihilating spiritual intent—cold as death itself—locked onto my back like a leech, freezing my marrow.

“Crown Prince of Ziqing,” a voice purred mockingly, slick and cruel as a cat playing with its prey, “you’ve lost your former swagger.”

Just as that killing force was about to strike—

A familiar yet resolute figure shot forward like a comet hurling itself into flame, cutting between me and that dreadful presence.

My younger brother!

The one my father never favored—the quiet, overlooked shadow living beneath my radiance, with whom I’d rarely spoken!

He clutched the Imperial Seal, his tattered robes whipping violently in the storm of spiritual pressure, his hair wild in the gale.

He turned—just once—to look at me.

In his eyes blazed the madness of one who has staked everything!

In the next instant, his gaunt frame swelled grotesquely, like a bladder stretched to bursting. Blinding purple light erupted from every pore of his body—and from the Imperial Seal—raging forth with apocalyptic fury!

That light was pure. That light was tragic. It compressed and ignited the last remnants of Ziqing’s national fortune—along with his own life and soul!

BOOM!

An indescribable detonation shook the world.

For a heartbeat, heaven and earth went deaf.

That surge of fortune-infused power struck me like an invisible hammer, flooding into my body.

It roared through my veins, shattering the meticulously wrought curse the myriad races had branded upon me, blasting apart the seals they’d forged with united strength.

Power long dormant—cultivation buried deep—surged back to life within this near-rotted shell, like permafrost collapsing beneath spring’s first thaw.

Yet within that explosion of regained strength, a churning crimson mist filled my mind—and within it, countless eyes suddenly appeared!

My father. My brother. My beloved wife. My child… and countless familiar faces—generals, ministers, loyal subjects—who had bled their last drop for Ziqing…

Their gazes held farewell, seeming to reach me from beyond time itself, from an unreachable shore.

Watching them, a thick tear of blood welled from my eye—unnoticed—sliding down my cheek and drifting silently into the infinite void.

It fell toward the ruins of my homeland below, now devoured by fire and blood—falling ever deeper into bottomless, eternal silence.

Behind me lay a past utterly shattered—a graveyard of sunken time.

Ahead—only an endless road of darkness, waiting to be dyed red with blood.

I shall have my revenge!