In the twilight gloom, the golden crow hung low, the slanting rays of sunset dyeing the dense forest crimson.
After the Thunder Tribulation, flames soared hundreds of feet high, blazing fiercely and ceaselessly.
Xi Ling, soaked in blood, curled up amidst the raging fire, eyes tightly shut, her Qingluan wings enveloping her entire body.
A spark flew and landed on the green feathers; Xi Ling opened her eyes amidst overwhelming agony.
Before her, waves of fire surged endlessly, scorching heat enveloping her from all directions.
She wanted to rise, but pain robbed her of any strength.
Having just endured forty-nine heavenly thunderbolts, even a deity with boundless spiritual power would struggle to recover quickly. Moreover, her fate had been swapped by her closest kin, her meridians damaged, heart and lungs injured, and she had fallen from a thousand-foot height, her bones and tendons nearly shattered.
If her Qingluan true form hadn’t manifested in time, extending wings to cushion beneath her, how could she still be alive today?
“Xi Ling, Xi Ling.”
Xi Ling turned toward the voice and saw a frail figure kneeling beside her—her fellow student from the academy.
“Yang Ying, why have you come…” Xi Ling’s voice was feeble.
“After the Thunder Tribulation, I saw you hadn’t emerged for so long, worried, so I rushed in.”
On that pale face, eyes flushed red, brimming with concern. Flames crept onto Yang Ying’s robe, nearly engulfing her frail form.
Yang Ying lifted her gaze to look at the wings behind Xi Ling.
The Phoenix Bird Clan princess, her true form a Qingluan, possessed feathers of stunning beauty, rare in the world; under sunlight, the wing surfaces shimmered like rippling water, radiating brilliant clarity.
But now, the halo surrounding the wings had vanished without a trace, covered in black holes, blood trickling steadily.
If Xi Ling had successfully passed the tribulation, she should have remolded her body, manifesting new wings.
Yet she was now covered in bloodstains, forehead bleeding, robes soiled and disheveled—where was any sign of ascension?
Yang Ying’s gaze fell on Xi Ling’s face; that radiant, vibrant countenance, always with gently curved brows, clear and smiling, now was covered in frost.
“Xi Ling, what happened to you?”
Xi Ling struggled to speak, every bone aching intensely, spiritual power flowing backward, throat as if scorched by fire; uttering a single syllable brought a searing pain.
She had just endured the Thunder Tribulation—she had succeeded, yet why hadn’t she ascended?
Because her so-called close friend had swapped her fate—
Spirit clans are born with spirit; their lifelong cultivation aims to enhance spiritual power, seeking ascension to the great path. But among thousands of spirit clans, how many can ascend to become immortals?
Only the exceptional can enter the Transformation Realm before ascension.
And Xi Ling was, to date, the youngest one.
Once she broke through the bottleneck of the Transformation Realm and passed the Thunder Tribulation test of the Ninefold Heaven, she could smoothly ascend.
As the Thunder Tribulation approached, she was originally in secluded retreat for recuperation, but yesterday she received a jade slip message from Prince Li Zhao of the Feather Folk Kingdom, saying his sister Li Qin might be in peril.
Xi Ling and Li Qin had known each other since childhood, playing together in youth, intimate and inseparable; as they grew older, they came together to Mingze Academy to study magic.
The two usually practiced together, close as siblings, confiding in each heartily, inseparable.
Thus, when news came that Li Qin might be besieged by beasts, whereabouts unknown, Xi Ling hesitated not, immediately leaving retreat to search.
She and Li Zhao followed clues all the way to the academy’s Forbidden Land outside, forbidden by the academy for all disciples to enter; beneath towering dense forests lurked unspeakable dangers.
Li Qin’s trail ended precisely at the forest entrance, with signs of ancient beasts causing chaos scattered all around.
Her mind in turmoil, she disregarded the danger and ventured deep into the Forbidden Land. After a night and a day of searching, she found nothing.
By the time she realized it, she had already reached the heart of the depths, separated from Li Zhao, surrounded only by towering dense forests stretching endlessly.
Just at that moment, a deafening “boom—” echoed as lightning flashed and thunder roared across the sky.
The once clear, azure expanse of the heavens suddenly churned with dark clouds. A massive golden disk abruptly emerged, with thunder dragons soaring within its circumference, radiating beams of golden light in all directions.
This was the omen of the Thunder Tribulation descending.
Xi Ling gasped sharply. After entering the forest, she had been attacked by ancient beasts, narrowly escaping death from the jaws of wild creatures, her body now bearing wounds both large and small.
Today was not the ideal time to undergo the tribulation, but with the heavenly thunder already descending, how could she evade it? There was no choice but to endure it head-on.
The thunder dragons absorbed lightning from all directions, growing thicker and more formidable. Roaring as if the heavens themselves were issuing a warning, they descended from thousands of feet above, striking Xi Ling with an unstoppable force, lashing her body heavily.
Blood seeped from the corner of her mouth as she felt her bones and tendons shattering inch by inch.
One strike, two strikes, three strikes… she endured them all.
But just as the final thunder dragon was about to descend, a figure silently appeared by her side.
Amidst the fierce thunderous winds, the person’s snow-white robes billowed in the gale. Though her appearance was as pure and noble as a saintess, an eerie, enchanting glow now enveloped her.
It was Li Qin.
“Li Zhao told me that with your talent, you would soon undergo the tribulation and ascend to immortality. I didn’t believe it, but I never expected you truly possessed such capability.”
“Yet, Princess Xi Ling, you are destined not to become an immortal today…”
Li Qin’s tone was light and mocking as she softly chanted a spell. Her sleeves fluttered in the wind, releasing countless glowing particles of spiritual energy that converged into crimson threads, casting an unnatural blood-red hue upon her lips.
“All my schemes were for this day. Long ago, I planted a hidden curse upon you. This curse is formless, traceless, undetectable, yet it can exchange our destinies.”
Why had Xi Ling’s Thunder Tribulation descended without warning today?
At this moment, the answer became glaringly clear.
It was because someone had used forbidden arts to summon the heavenly tribulation.
The one who had once tenderly called her “little sister” now had all traces of past warmth swept from her eyes, leaving only cold indifference and venomous resentment.
As the wind howled, thunder also roared within Xi Ling’s heart.
Beneath her, in the forest below, a golden circular compass array suddenly manifested. Countless spells rotated with the compass, sending ripples of immense spiritual energy radiating outward.
A crimson-gold light illuminated the entire sky.
Without Xi Ling’s awareness, she had become trapped within the array.
Li Qin raised her hand, biting her thumb to draw blood. With a single-handed seal, she used her blood as a medium to draw a secret symbol. Innumerable crimson threads and glowing particles, like venomous snakes, coiled toward Xi Ling.
The array she had invoked was a forbidden art of deceiving the heavens to exchange destinies.
Tell me, how can one utterly destroy another in this world?
It is by seizing what they hold dearest, erasing their efforts, denying their existence, and claiming everything that belongs to them as one’s own.
“Xi Ling, I shall use your tribulation to ascend in your stead.”
“Today, you will surely die.”
“At this very moment.”
The blood-red threads surged toward her in clusters. When Xi Ling evaded them and they failed to ensnare her, they instantly transformed into twelve long swords, encircling her.
Having just endured forty-eight strikes of heavenly thunder, Xi Ling was at the end of her strength. She raised her hand to form a defensive array, but in the next moment, excruciating pain shot through her shoulder.
A cold, dark iron sword, flying from the shadows, had brutally pierced through her shoulder.
A three-foot-long green sword, like a bone-chilling piece of ice, was so cold that her wound contracted violently.
In Xi Ling’s trembling vision, a black light appeared, transforming into the figure of a young man. He wore a purple robe with dark gold cloud patterns, enveloped in lightning, gazing down with a handsome and elegant demeanor.
He slowly raised his hand, and the flying sword he had thrown out responded to its master’s summons, twisting within the wound, emitting faint metallic sounds.
Li Zhao observed her reaction closely and said with a smile, “Princess Xi Ling trusted my sister so deeply, but alas, her affection was misplaced, and her trust was given to the wrong person. Just like your father, who wanted to rebuild the relationship between our two clans, forge a bond between us, and even arranged for our marriage, using this precious sword as a token. Yet, ten thousand years ago, my Winged People Nation and the Phoenix Bird Clan were originally of the same lineage, with nearly equal strength. Why must we remain subordinate to your clan and obey your rule?”
“The Four Continents Winged Tribes and the Dawn Cloud Royal City, once obedient to the Phoenix Bird Clan, shall henceforth all belong to my Winged People Nation. We shall take over the management of the sky territories for the gods.”
“Everything begins with the death of the princess today.”
As his words ended, the sword was drawn!
The cold sword heard the summons and withdrew from her shoulder. At the moment when blood gushed out profusely, the last thunder dragon in the sky also descended with overwhelming force.
Electric currents surged through her entire body. Xi Ling endured the final bolt of lightning, but her flesh was not remolded.
Instead, another person ascended.
She fell from a thousand-foot height, with strong winds roaring in her ears, her robes fluttering in the wind. She watched all the spiritual energy in the world, at this moment, converge toward another direction, flying toward that snow-white figure floating in the air.
Li Qin was slowly enveloped by spiritual power, with a gentle and sacred golden light of an immortal.
The two looked down from above at Xi Ling’s fall, lightly touched the void with their toes, and rode the wind away.
From beginning to end, they did not pause for even a moment.
After they left, thunderfire descended from the sky, and flames engulfed the forest.
Xi Ling crashed onto the ground, pain sweeping through her entire body. The fire devoured her vision, and tears overflowed from her eyes.
Her world became fragmented and blurred at this moment.
In her ears, there was still the sound of wind chimes from the corridor in the past. When she was young, she held Li Qin’s hand, watching the bells under the eaves gently collide, the crisp sounds accompanied by the laughter and play of children, seeming never to fade away.
Yet, it was she who endured forty-nine Thunder Tribulations; it was she who, fearing she could not bear the name of Phoenix Bird Princess, studied diligently day and night, never ceasing her training for a single day.
Why could someone else seize her fortune and ascend?
The immense pain dragged her toward the abyss. Xi Ling could feel her consciousness fading bit by bit, blood gushing from her mouth.
At the brink of her consciousness fading, she endured the excruciating pain and opened her eyes amidst the flames.
What followed was pain a thousand times greater than the Thunder Tribulation.
Those wings she once cherished so dearly were scorched yellow by the wildfire, revealing an ugly color.
Xi Ling gritted her teeth, tears in her eyes, and supported herself on the ground, crawling up slowly, bit by bit.
She raised her head, and when she saw a familiar figure, the tears she had been holding back uncontrollably burst forth.
Tears mixed with blood stains splattered onto the ground.
“Yang Ying…”
“Xi Ling, I’ll take you away.” Yang Ying reached out to support her.
But Xi Ling knew that her exceedingly thin cultivation, before this hell forged by a sea of fire, was as insignificant as an ant. How difficult would it be to take her away from here?
Suddenly, two hurried footsteps sounded beside her—
The two had returned.
“A-Qin, I cannot rest easy. I must see with my own eyes that Xi Ling is dead before I can truly put my mind at ease.”
Li Qin’s voice followed: “The commotion here is too great; it will soon draw a crowd. Forty-nine thunder dragons, plus the raging fire engulfing her—there is no chance she survived. Why bother searching further?”
“What if she managed to escape by some fluke? Wouldn’t that bring endless trouble? Let’s split up and search.”
Xi Ling followed the direction of the voices, a sharp, watery gleam flashing in her eyes. Yang Ying saw her raise her hands, poised to act, but suddenly sensed something amiss—
A faint, pale blue light flowed at Xi Ling’s fingertips. She lifted her hand, and a surge of magical power cut through the air, forcibly carving a path behind Yang Ying.
Before Yang Ying could react, a torrent of magic rushed over, violently hurling her out of the sea of flames.
Yang Ying crashed heavily to the ground. In her field of vision, beyond the flames, that slender figure swayed in the wind, swallowed by the surging fire, disappearing without a trace.
Deep within the inferno, Xi Ling gasped for breath. Using the last of her spiritual energy, she had managed to send Yang Ying out—but only her.
Having done this, her body was already on the verge of collapse. Clutching her bloodied arm, she staggered in the opposite direction.
The Phoenix Bird Clan was naturally attuned to fire. Once, these flames had obeyed her command, incapable of harming her. Yet now, they had turned into malevolent demons vying for her life, clawing at her sleeves and licking her skin.
Her robes were soiled and disheveled, her long hair tangled against her cheeks. Each step felt as though she were treading on blades, yet she did not slow her pace in the slightest.
Footsteps echoed behind her, drawing closer and closer, shadowing her like persistent ghosts.
Just then, a searing pain shot through her right hand. Xi Ling instinctively raised it.
Her palm began to dissipate, transforming into golden light that scattered into the surrounding grass and trees.
Without spiritual energy to sustain her, she could no longer maintain even the most basic human form.
Feeling her body fading away, Xi Ling desperately raced toward the forest ahead.
But then, her feet froze—
Beyond the crisscrossing branches ahead, a figure moved. Someone was there.
At the same time, the pursuer behind her closed in, drawing nearer and nearer.
There was no time left for Xi Ling to deliberate.
When she saw a raven-black bird swoop out from the opposite woods, she made a split-second decision, clasping her hands and forming a seal.
In an instant, her form dissolved into the wind, her robes vanishing into nothingness, leaving only a wisp of a soul that hurtled toward the bird.
Li Zhao forced his way through the raging flames. As he emerged from the fire, he saw a strand of golden light crash into the body of a flying crow.
He immediately raised his hand to seize the bird.
But he was a step too late.
A gentle breeze swirled, and a man’s figure had already appeared beside the crow. Li Zhao hadn’t even seen how he arrived.
The breeze swept past, leaves and branches drifting down.
The man stood against the light, his silhouette shrouded in the shadows of the trees. He slowly sheathed the long sword at his side, then bent to pick up the crow that had fallen onto a rock. His dark robes clung to him, outlining a slender waist.
From this angle, his features were indistinct, only the fragmented silhouette cast by the light and shadow, tall and straight like elegant green bamboo.
The spell Li Zhao had cast to capture the bird dissipated like ripples upon reaching the man’s vicinity, not even touching the hem of his robes.
Such power was far from ordinary.
Li Zhao hurried to the man’s side, and upon seeing his face, he froze in surprise.
It was him.
“Young Lord Xuanyu?”
The man’s left hand, with distinct knuckles, lifted the black bird as ugly as an evil spirit, gazing down at it with a slight frown between his brows.
Li Zhao looked at the black bird and smiled, “I didn’t expect to meet the Young Lord here. The thing in your hand is a spiritual pet crow I keep. Today, for some reason, it escaped from its cage and intruded into this Forbidden Land, ending up in this barely alive state.”
Whether the light that flew toward the crow was caused by Xi Ling, Li Zhao couldn’t be sure, but he preferred to err on the side of caution rather than let it slip.
He chuckled, “This crow coming into your hands means it has a fate with you, but it is truly ugly and has sullied your eyes. I hope you can return it to me.”
After these words, the Young Lord’s gaze finally shifted from the scorched black crow to him.
Those eyes with thick lashes showed a glimmer of light in the shadows, “Your spiritual pet?”
If listened carefully, displeasure could be discerned within.
Perhaps due to the abundant spiritual power around him, or perhaps because of his distinguished status, that lazy, detached, and lofty demeanor made such a cold sentence, uttered from his thin lips, cause sweat to uncontrollably trickle down one’s back.
Li Zhao was momentarily distracted, then smiled again, “Indeed, it is my spiritual pet. This crow is named Gray Tongue. Does the Young Lord have any questions?”
Today, he must take this bird away.
Just as he was about to speak again, he saw the other’s complex expression, gazing at him for a long time, then slightly raising his eyebrows—
“…”
“But this, isn’t it a parrot?”