Volume 1 Madman

Chapter 1

The 21st year of Qizheng in the Great Qi dynasty, Frost's Descent.

A team of knights galloped wildly down the official road, both men and horses already exhausted. Suddenly, the young knight in the lead shouted, "The boundary stele is here!"

Not far ahead, a stone stele stood by the roadside, over ten feet tall, with a line of blood-red, flamboyant characters exuding murderous intent: Chiyuan, all living beings stop here. Trespassers will be ground to dust.

In front of the stele, a middle-aged general stood with a row of imperial guards awaiting them. The guards, armored and armed, lined up in a row. Upon seeing the arrivals, they all knelt in unison: "Your Highness the Crown Prince."

"Whoa—"

The young knight in the lead jumped off his horse. Having run too fast, he stumbled, and the general hurried forward to steady him: "Your Highness, be careful."

"I'm fine." The young man waved his hand and asked, "Where is my royal uncle?"

Before he finished speaking, someone not far away called his childhood name: "Little Grace, come over here."

The voice belonged to a man dressed in black, standing alone on the other side of the boundary stele with his back to the crowd. The young crown prince glanced at the blood-red characters on the stele, then, fearless as a newborn calf, strode right past it and ran to kneel before the man in black: "Your son..."

The man in black reached out and gently lifted the crown prince up: "No need."

This man's appearance was excessively youthful. Standing next to the young prince, they looked more like brothers than uncle and nephew. No one would have guessed that he was actually the Qizheng Emperor Ethan Carter, who had reigned for twenty-one years.

He had sword-like brows, the peaks not prominent, slanting into his temples. The corners of his eyes drooped slightly, giving him a gentle and affectionate look. His spirit was lively, and he was very approachable—a handsome and dignified appearance.

The Qizheng Emperor patted the young crown prince's shoulder and said warmly, "Walk with me. Are you afraid?"

The crown prince replied, "I am not afraid. When you were young, royal uncle, you pacified Chiyuan, subdued evil demons, slew a million ghost soldiers, and restored our land. Even if I am not a hundredth of you, I dare not speak of fear and tarnish your reputation."

"What reputation? More like infamy." The Qizheng Emperor smiled and walked forward slowly. "You're not afraid, but I am. I haven't dared to come back here in twenty years."

The crown prince hurried to catch up, a bit puzzled. He couldn't understand his uncle's fear, nor why he used the word "come back": "Royal uncle..."

"Shh—" The Qizheng Emperor raised a finger to his lips. "Listen."

The crown prince focused in confusion, listening for a while before muttering, "Listen... to what? There's nothing."

The Qizheng Emperor smiled: "Yes, there's nothing at all."

The crown prince was stunned, suddenly recalling a legend he had heard as a child—supposedly, a hundred thousand vengeful spirits of the war dead were sealed in the fiery sea of Chiyuan, their resentment soaring to the heavens. Thus, fierce winds howled year-round on both sides of the canyon, wailing endlessly. Standing outside the boundary stele, one could hear the daily screams and cries from within.

Yet now, it was utterly quiet. He strolled safely inside the boundary, and apart from his and his uncle's footsteps, he heard nothing.

The crown prince thought, "So, folk legends really can't be fully trusted?"

After entering the boundary, they walked less than a hundred meters before feeling a wave of heat. According to the solar terms, it was already late autumn, and the crown prince wore only a thin jacket, yet sweat beaded on his forehead layer after layer. He sneaked a glance at his uncle and resisted wiping it away.

They said the Qizheng Emperor was iron-blooded and ruthless, a madman prone to unpredictable moods, born in the blood of his father and brothers, an ill-omened child. They also said he killed his mother, murdered his teacher, burned books, banned speech, harbored sycophants, waged endless wars, and persecuted the loyal and good.

But in the young crown prince's heart, this was his only family.

No matter what happened, this man was always gentle and calm. He had never seen him lose his temper or appear disheveled. The crown prince had looked up to this uncle since childhood. Now grown, able to draw the heaviest bow and govern the country with poise, he still followed in his uncle's footsteps.