Lethal Flames and the Will to Protect
Amidst the dead silence of the night, the first flaming arrow tore through the air like a blood-red meteor, striking the dry thatched roof of the hut at the village's edge. Zhao Long, who had just parted from Ye Nian a moment ago to gather firewood in the back, widened his eyes as a pillar of fire erupted into the sky.
"Ye Nian! Ye Nian! Where are you?!"
Zhao Long roared her name, his voice tearing through his throat. He dashed through the thickening soot and smoke back to the courtyard where she had been resting. Yet, what he found was only emptiness and chaos.
Villagers were running for their lives in pure panic. The thunderous galloping of a hundred Black Tiger Bandits drew closer with every passing heartbeat.
"Ye Nian! Answer me!" The young man's heart plummeted. She was still injured. How could she possibly break through a bandit siege? Or worse... was she trapped inside the blazing inferno?!
The overwhelming anxiety for the woman he had cared for over the past two days, combined with the suffocating stench of death around him, drove Zhao Long to the brink of madness. Without a second thought, he charged through the roaring flames into the collapsing hut. "Grandfather! Ye Nian!"
He found Grandfather Zhao slumped beside the bamboo cot. Crimson blood soaked the old man's shoulder, the result of a blade from a bandit who had snuck in through the window. But Zhao Long's frantic eyes swept across the smoke-filled room. "Grandfather! Where is she? Where did Lady Ye Nian go?!"
"Long'er... don't worry about her..." Grandfather Zhao rasped, his trembling hand grabbing his grandson's collar to pull him down beneath the smoke.
"She... she got away. I saw her leap out the window before the fire spread... Listen to me! Take that bundle... take it... and run!"
Though a fraction of the weight lifted from his chest knowing she had escaped, the thought of an injured female traveler alone in a forest swarming with bandits fueled a rage in Zhao Long's heart that burned hotter than the fire consuming his home.
His physical strength, once used only for chopping wood, was suddenly flooded with a terrifying, inexplicable surge of power.
"They will pay! For the village... for you, Grandfather... and for her safety!"
Zhao Long's roar shook the very crossbeams of the burning house. He grabbed a massive, blazing piece of firewood.
His eyes, once pure and innocent, morphed into the fierce, unyielding gaze of a dragon awakened amidst a battlefield of blood.
Yet, what Zhao Long did not know... was that on the roof of a barn just a few yards away, the lithe silhouette of Ye Nian (Lin Ying), clad in her tactical gear and the Nightbird mask, was crouching motionlessly.
Her eyes were locked onto the frenzied Zhao Long, an overwhelming wave of guilt washing over her heart.
'Ah Long... I am sorry I had to disappear like this,' she thought, her grip tightening around her short blades until her hands trembled. 'But as an assassin... I will protect you from the shadows. Anyone who dares lay a finger on you tonight will never see the light of day again!'
She vanished into the veil of smoke, initiating a silent massacre to protect the "woodcutter" who had unknowingly stolen her heart.
The Courtyard Inferno and the Soaring Dragon's Instinct
Zhao Long burst through the flaming doorway. The blood-orange glow bathed his figure, making him look like a God of War descending into the abyss. The sight before him was a mirror of apocalypse... Cloud-Mist Village, once a peaceful sanctuary, was now a ruin being swallowed by a curtain of fire.
The villagers he knew—the auntie who gave him sweets, the children who ran through the fields—were scattering in terror. Their pleas for mercy were drowned out by the manic laughter of the Black Tiger Bandits, who circled on horseback like a pack of wolves tearing into their prey.
"Hahaha! Look at that, Boss... this piece of trash actually survived the fire!"
Mocking jeers echoed from a dozen bandits closing the circle. Hei Hu (Black Tiger), the bandit leader whose physique rivaled that of a giant, rested a massive, flat-headed broadsword on his shoulder.
His eyes brimmed with disdain as he looked at Zhao Long, who held nothing but a blazing log. "Heh! You think you can fight my steel with a piece of firewood, woodcutter? With a flick of my finger, I'll grind your bones to dust!"
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The resounding noise was not the sound of wood shattering as everyone expected. Instead, it was the sound of three charging bandits being blasted backward, their bones shattering upon impact! Zhao Long did not waste breath on words.
The log in his hands moved with a heavy, blurring speed, almost as if it were alive. He parried the steel blades and countered with an awakened, terrifying instinct. Sparks exploded from the log with every clash, resembling a fire dragon whipping its tail at its foes.
From the distant barn roof, Ye Nian watched the spectacle below without blinking. Behind her mask, her eyes quivered in absolute awe. "Those stances... That is the lost Spear Arts of the Zhao Clan! Even with a mere log, the weight and the rhythm of his offense and defense... it is the real deal!"
She did not remain idle. Whenever a bandit attempted to blindside Zhao Long from a dead angle, a faint, whispering breeze would pass by, followed instantly by a poison needle that silently claimed their lives.
Zhao Long fought with everything he had, but the sheer numbers and the exhaustion from the toxic smoke began to take their toll. Hei Hu pressed the attack with heavy, crushing strikes, forcing the young man to retreat back into the collapsing hut.
"You're dead even if you hide! Burn him to ashes!" Hei Hu roared, charging into the house. His giant sword slashed down, tearing through the fabric on Zhao Long's shoulder. The young man lost his footing, crashing violently against the wooden floorboards near his grandfather's bed!
Thud! Boom!
The unnatural, hollow echo of the floorboards where he landed made Zhao Long pause for a split second. He could sense a hidden cavity beneath him... but Hei Hu's blade was already raised to its apex, ready to claim his life. "Die! You trash!"
In that split second between life and death, the fury of witnessing the destruction of everything he loved triggered a latent power hidden deep within his bloodline. It erupted into a massive surge of Inner Qi!
The air around Zhao Long violently vibrated, pushing the encroaching flames back. Instead of dodging, he channeled all his newfound power into his legs and delivered a devastating kick squarely into Hei Hu's chest!
BOOOOM!!
The impact, imbued with a torrential wave of qi, sent Hei Hu's giant body crashing through the burning wooden wall. The bandit leader flew across the dirt courtyard and crashed into the center of the village like a fallen thunderbolt! Dust billowed into the air accompanied by the sickening crunch of a shattered ribcage. The surrounding bandits recoiled in sheer panic upon seeing their invincible boss vomit a massive pool of blood.
Zhao Long stood tall amidst the roaring flames. His gaze had transformed into the imposing glare of a peerless vanguard. He looked down through the splintered floorboards his foot had broken, revealing an ancient, weathered cloth bundle hidden beneath...
A faint, milky-white glow seeped from the bundle, as if calling out to its true master!
The End of the Black Tigers
Amidst the cracking of collapsing beams and the choking soot, the remaining Black Tiger Bandits stood frozen, as if cursed. Seeing the muscular frame of Hei Hu—their boss—blasted out of a solid wall with a caved-in chest, coughing up enough dark blood to dye the earth, broke their spirits completely.
Zhao Long stepped out of the burning hut slowly. His silhouette, backlit by the raging inferno, appeared impossibly large. He tightened his grip on the carrying pole he had used for practice in his backyard.
It was now fully ablaze, yet he held it with unwavering stability. His once innocent eyes were now razor-sharp, radiating a pressure so dense that the air itself felt as heavy as the ocean depths.
"Get out... of my village. NOW!"
Zhao Long's roar thundered across the valley. He spun the burning pole, creating a vortex of fiery air, before launching himself into the encirclement of bandits like a young tiger descending the mountain.
His movements, though instinctual, were blindingly fast and pinpoint accurate. He wasn't merely swinging blindly; every strike and every thrust decisively targeted vital points. In mere breaths, over a dozen bandits lay groaning on the ground.
However, just as the panicked bandits tried to regroup for one final, desperate swarm, the deafening sound of warhorses shattered the night!
Crown Prince Liu Tian, Wei Qing, and Princess Lao Ying charged through the smoke into the courtyard, their presence majestic and overwhelming. The trio pulled their reins, looking at the scene before them in pure astonishment.
Wei Qing's eyes, in particular, sparkled with an intense, manic gleam as he watched a young man in ragged commoner's clothes brutally subduing bandits with a burning stick, resembling a God of War.
"Kill them all! Do not let a single one survive to report this atrocity!" Liu Tian commanded, his voice cold and absolute. His eyes reflected a burning wrath at the sight of the devastated village.
Wei Qing didn't need to be told twice. He vaulted from his horse directly into the fray. Meanwhile, Zhuge Qing used the chaos to slip off his mount and dart toward the burning hut. He found Grandfather Zhao sitting motionlessly amidst the flames.
The strategist quickly supported the old man, whispering with eyes full of profound meaning, "Say nothing for now..." before escorting him safely out of the inferno.
While Wei Qing and Zhao Long decimated the bandits in the courtyard, Ye Nian (Lin Ying) continued her cold-blooded work from the roof. She knew that if even one bandit escaped to report to Han Feng or her father, every secret—including Zhao Long's true identity—would be compromised.
With lethal precision, she hurled hidden darts and poison needles at any bandit attempting to flee on horseback or trying to slip away through the shadows.
Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!
Bandit after bandit dropped dead without ever seeing the face of their executioner. To outsiders, this looked like a clash between bandits and imperial forces. In reality, it was a massacre orchestrated to perfectly "bury" the secrets beneath the ashes, fulfilling Lin Ying's vow.
Back in the center of the courtyard... the mortally wounded Hei Hu gathered the last ounces of his strength and lunged at Zhao Long, hoping for mutual destruction. "Go to hell!"
Zhao Long stepped forward with icy calm. He spun his pole in a wide arc, shedding the flames into a wheel of fire, before bringing it down with crushing force against the bandit leader's temple. The wooden pole snapped completely in half!
Crack!
Hei Hu's massive body crumpled to the dirt, life leaving his eyes instantly. Amidst the sudden silence, broken only by the crackling of the fires, Zhao Long stood triumphantly among the corpses. The firelight flickered across his handsome face, which now bore the undeniable majesty of a great general fully awakened.
Liu Tian stared at the young man's broad back, his heart surging with overwhelming faith and elation. "Finally... I have found the dragon I have been searching for."
The Tiger Meets the Dragon, a Challenge Beneath the Flames
Among the smoldering ruins of the Cloud-Mist Valley, the once-raging fires began to die down, leaving only a faint orange glow that bathed the scorched earth. A chilling silence fell over the area, interrupted only by the occasional pop of a burning beam.
The stench of soot mingled heavily with the metallic scent of blood. The scene presented a stark contrast: the slaughtered remains of the Black Tiger Bandits, and the noble, mounted guests standing tall in the center of the battlefield.
Zhao Long stood in the middle of the courtyard, panting heavily. His trembling hands tightened around the broken, charred half of his staff. A deep wound on his flank began sending sharp flares of agony straight to his heart, yet his eyes refused to bow to the exhaustion.
"You pack of cowardly dogs! Ganging up on the injured... have you no shame?!"
A roar like a young tiger echoed, accompanied by a movement as fast as lightning. Wei Qing leaped from his warhorse with athletic grace, kicking up a cloud of dust as his boots hit the ground. He didn't even draw the massive blade strapped to his back.
With just a single, sweeping arc of his heavy metal scabbard, the destructive force sent the few remaining bandits flying in all directions. None of them dared to stand back up.
Wei Qing slowly turned to look at Zhao Long. His eyes contained no pity or sympathy. Instead, they blazed with excitement and a fierce thirst for battle. He studied the young man in the torn woodcutter's clothes, sensing the bizarre, overwhelming aura of a supreme warrior radiating from him.
"Not bad at all..." Wei Qing laughed heartily, genuinely impressed. "The 'trash' they were mocking possesses the resolve of a warrior far greater than those sword-wielding dandies in the capital!" He locked his gaze onto Zhao Long's sharp features. "I really like the look in your eyes. That isn't the look of a commoner waiting to die... it's the look of a man born to protect with his life!"
Zhao Long tried to steady his stance. His fierce determination began to waver, replaced by confusion as he looked at these strangers who seemed far too noble to comprehend. "Who are you people... why did you step in to help me?"
Wei Qing didn't answer immediately. He walked up and clapped his hand heavily onto Zhao Long's shoulder, nearly making the exhausted young man buckle. "My name is Wei Qing... and I hate owing favors. I helped because I want to see your 'true' skills. That broken piece of kindling can't compare to my Roaring Tiger Blade!"
Wei Qing took three steps back. His sharp eyes stared at Zhao Long with a grin that challenged the dragon's instinct within the young man. "Rest up and heal well, boy... Because the moment your wounds scab over, I challenge you to a true martial duel! I want to know just how long this 'Dragon' that Crown Prince Liu Tian speaks of can last against a Tiger like me!"
In the dark corner of the barn roof, Ye Nian (Lin Ying) remained motionless beneath her Nightbird mask. She saw everything—she saw the hope in Liu Tian's eyes as he looked at Zhao Long, the calm demeanor of Zhuge Qing escorting Grandfather Zhao, and the fiery challenge from Wei Qing that was about to drag her "Ah Long" into the vortex of war.
"Wei Qing... you battle-crazed fool," she muttered softly. Her eyes trembled slightly as she looked at Zhao Long standing tall amidst the ruins. She knew that after tonight, the peaceful life of this woodcutter was gone forever. Her duty now was to infiltrate her father's schemes and ensure that the Grand Secretary's claws never reached this dragon.
The moonlight, previously obscured by smoke and clouds, finally broke through, illuminating the Cloud-Mist Valley once more. It was like a guiding light pointing toward a new destiny. Amidst the blood soaking into the earth and the echoing challenge... the White Dragon that had
slumbered for so long had finally, perfectly, bared its fangs.