In the northern reaches of Langya, at the White Tiger Pass fortress, the wind carried the smell of steel and frost. This was the first shield against the Great Wilderness, and it was now the fief of the Grayson Royal Manor.
“You bastards!”
“She’s only thirteen!”
“What gives you the right to hand her over to that animal Kieran Emberstone!”
Inside the manor hall, Earl Grayson held his sister tight in his arms, his voice like a blade tearing through the air as he roared at the elders.
Willa Grayson shrank weakly against him, her small frame trembling under the heavy red wedding gown they had forced onto her. Her eyes were dull, drifting, as if her spirit had been knocked loose.
A month ago, she had still been the brightest talent in the Grayson Manor, the unmatched prodigy of all White Tiger Pass.
Then an accident shattered her meridians, and in an instant she became a “useless cripple” in the eyes of her clan.
And today, they wanted to push her into the hands of the notorious wastrel of the Third Fortress—Kieran Emberstone.
“The affairs of the Grayson Manor are not for a foster child like you to meddle in.”
“The wedding escort team is already on the road. She’s getting married today whether you like it or not.”
Harrison Grayson and Reynold Grayson stood at the front, their faces tight with anger as they barked at Earl for daring to make a scene.
“The Lord merely went missing—there’s no proof he’s dead.”
“And you still dare force Willa into marriage? Aren’t you afraid the Lord will return and settle the debt with you?”
“Harrison, you call yourself her uncle!”
Earl held Willa tighter, his stance firm, eyes sharp. Around them the manor guards watched closely, hands on their weapons, ready to close in.
“My elder brother’s life or death is uncertain, and panic brews in all eight fortresses of White Tiger Pass.”
“Marrying Willa into the Third Fortress will help steady the soldiers’ hearts.”
Harrison Grayson, second-in-command of the manor, had taken full control the moment the Lord went missing. His words rang with the weight of authority—but behind them lurked something cold and ruthless.
Today’s wedding was all arranged by him.
Everything had been moving smoothly—until Earl Grayson suddenly stepped out of the shadows.
“There are plenty of unmarried girls across the Eight Great Fortresses. If you want to steady the troops, have Reynold Grayson marry one of them.”
“Why should my sister be the one sacrificed?”
“She can barely stand now. Are you trying to kill her?”
Earl Grayson’s fury burned through the hall. These people were pushing too far.
Reynold Grayson let out a cold snort. “Kieran Emberstone is the only son of General Sheldon Emberstone of the Third Fortress. He doesn’t even mind her being a cripple. That’s already a blessing for her. As her brother, you should be grateful. Come—bring Earl Grayson new clothes and send his sister off!”
“Who dares!”
Earl Grayson’s shout cracked through the hall like a thunderclap. His eyes went scarlet, like a cornered beast ready to tear someone apart.
“Enough!”
Mr. Eldermont slammed the table, his voice sharp as a whip. “You’re just an adopted son. Don’t overestimate yourself.”
“Since you’re here today, perfect.”
“I planned to deal with you after Willa Grayson’s wedding, but since you insist on courting trouble, don’t blame us for showing no mercy.”
“With the Prince missing, the Grayson Manor has no need for an adopted son.”
“You can leave now!”
“From this moment on, the Grayson Manor has nothing to do with you.”
“Old toad!” Earl Grayson jabbed a finger toward Mr. Eldermont, roaring the words.
“I am the Prince’s adopted son, not yours! You don’t get to decide where I go!”
The hall fell dead silent. Everyone froze for a heartbeat.
What… did he just call him?
“Old toad?”
Mr. Eldermont froze for a breath, then rage burst out of him like a broken dam. A vicious gust roared off his body, splintering the table as his withered hand clawed straight at Earl Grayson.
Earl Grayson didn’t flinch. He stood tall, eyes burning as he locked gazes with the elder.
“The Prince may be gone. Maybe you think you can run wild in the Grayson Manor.”
“But Baihu Guan won’t let you do as you please.”
“I’ve already petitioned General Ali Swiftwind of the Fifth Fortress, and General Broderick Kilgore of the Sixth Fortress. They’re on their way right now.”
“Let’s see who dares force my sister into that marriage today.”
Mr. Eldermont’s bony fingers were a breath away from Earl Grayson’s throat—yet they froze in midair, trembling.
Harrison Grayson and Reynold Grayson both frowned.
He had persuaded those two generals?
Those men were the Prince’s most loyal blades.
Especially General Ali Swiftwind—his daughter was said to have entered Jinyanggong in the North, even earning the rank of Upper Palace disciple.
Reynold Grayson strode up to Earl Grayson, jaw tight, voice chilly with threat.
“Don’t push your luck. Today is the Grayson Manor’s internal matter. A foster son like you has no place to interfere. If you insist on stopping this, I can promise you one thing: tomorrow, the depths of the Great Wilds will have one more corpse no one can recognize.”
“I get what you’re trying to do.”
“My elder brothers died in battle. The Prince vanished. My sister was crippled. The direct line of the Grayson blood is nearly gone.”
“You from the branch line want the power. First Harrison becomes steward. Then you step up as heir.”
“So you’re desperate to throw my sister out—while cozying up to the Third Fortress.”
“I see it clearly. I’m not the only one.”
“Earl…”
The Second Elder coughed softly, rising with a forced smile.
“The Prince agreed to take you in only in a personal capacity. The Grayson Manor never did.”
“Now that the Prince is missing, you’ve got no reason to linger here.”
“If you behave, we’ll let you attend Willa Grayson’s wedding. Say a few blessings.”
“Call it a clean farewell.”
“But if you insist on making a scene… for the sake of the manor’s reputation, we’ll have to use harsher methods.”
Earl Grayson met the Second Elder’s false smile head‑on, his voice cold. “Harsher methods? What—kill me now? Right here, in the great hall of the Grayson Manor?”
The Second Elder’s smile thinned, stiff as old bark. “So you’re set on standing against us?”
“I may not be part of the Grayson line. I can’t stop Harrison Grayson from running the manor.”
“But I am the Prince’s adopted son. I can threaten Reynold Grayson’s claim.”
“As long as I live, he won’t sit steady.”
“I’ll give you one chance.”
“Tomorrow, on Windcloud Platform, I challenge Reynold.”
“If I win, my sister’s matter ends here.”
“If I lose, you can deal with me and my sister however you like.”
The clan elders traded looks, then all turned toward Reynold Grayson.
“You’re certain?”
Reynold stared at Earl with a strange mix of amusement and disbelief.
This Earl—mysterious background, always disappearing during his eight years in White Tiger Pass—had never once accepted a spirit‑root test, never awakened a single spirit‑mark. A useless man by every measure.
And Reynold? A noble Fifth‑Grade Spirit‑Mark bearer, already at Spirit‑Infant Realm, Seventh Heaven.
Yet Earl dared to challenge him?
Earl Grayson’s gaze cut through the hall like a drawn blade. “General Ali Swiftwind and General Broderick Kilgore are already on their way. This marriage—won’t happen today.”
“If I die by some ‘accident,’ the Eight Fortresses will demand answers,” Earl Grayson said, voice steady as cooled steel. “But once I step onto the Windcloud Terrace, life or death is fate alone.”
He leveled his gaze at the old men in the hall, every word striking like a blade.
Harrison Grayson’s eyes flickered. He gave Reynold Grayson a slight nod.
“Good,” Reynold said, lips curling. “I accept your challenge.”
“But tomorrow, on the Windcloud Terrace, every member of the Grayson Royal Manor must be present. And the Eight Fortresses will witness it together.”
“Your life and your sister’s—decided in one fight.”
Reynold wanted to break Earl in front of everyone, to let the world know the direct line of the Grayson clan had truly fallen silent… even the adopted son.
And once that happened, the heir’s seat would be his—openly, righteously.
“Tomorrow. Windcloud Terrace.”
Earl swept the hall with a look filled with cold hate, then turned and carried the weakened, half‑dazed Willa Grayson away.
“Tomorrow,” Harrison murmured, staring at Earl’s departing back, “don’t hold back. Kill him.”
“He won’t walk off the Windcloud Terrace alive,” Reynold said proudly. To him, cleaning up a ‘waste’ like Earl was nothing.
Earl had barely stepped out of the manor gate, Willa trembling lightly in his arms, when he ran straight into the raucous, brightly dressed wedding procession.
“Willa! Ha! My little Willa!”
“I’ve come to take you home!”
Kieran Emberstone’s face was thick with flesh, excitement burning in his eyes. Before the procession even reached the Grayson manor, he’d already leapt off his horse and came barreling forward like a bull that had finally seen its prize.
“Get out.”
Earl Grayson’s shout cracked across the long street like a whip.
Kieran Emberstone’s face darkened. He stared at Earl Grayson with a cold, vicious curl at the corner of his lips. “Little cripple… what did you just say to me?”
“The lord is gone. As her elder brother, I stand in his place. Her marriage—my word decides.”
“My sister… will not marry you.”
Earl Grayson held Willa Grayson tight in his arms, muscles coiled, ready to cut a bloody path if he had to.
Kieran Emberstone sneered. “And what are you? Who gave you the right to speak here?”
“The Grayson Manor has already promised her to me. That makes her my woman. Men—take her!”
He snapped his hand down.
Behind him, the armored guards with red flowers on their chests leapt from their horses, steel boots striking the ground as they surged toward Earl Grayson like a tightening net.
“Stop!”
The roar of warhorses tore through the street. Two squads of hardened cavalry burst through the lively wedding procession, scattering lacquered carriages and bright silk decorations alike. Iron hooves cracked stone as they pushed straight to the front.
“They’re here… Willa, don’t be afraid.”
Earl Grayson whispered to his frail sister, steadying her trembling shoulders.
Leading the charge were two generals, both clad in heavy armor that gleamed like cold mountains under the sun.
One was tall and broad‑shouldered, his presence like a hammer poised to strike. His breath alone seemed to shake the air.
The other bore scars across half his face, each one twisted like a beast’s mark. The three‑meter blade on his back pulsed with a chilling light, as though yearning for war.
Ali Swiftwind.
Broderick Kilgore.
Commanders guarding the Fifth and Sixth Fortresses.
Kieran Emberstone’s brows knotted. He forced a stiff arch of his hands in greeting, though his eyes flashed with naked fury as they flicked toward Earl Grayson.
“General Ali Swiftwind… General Broderick Kilgore… this matter has nothing to do with the both of you.”
Ali Swiftwind cast a sharp glance at Earl Grayson and the girl cradled in his arms, Willa Grayson. His voice rolled through the long street like steel striking stone.
“Your lord’s life and death are still unknown. This is no time for a wedding.”
“The Grayson Manor agreed to this marriage—and took the bride price. I’m taking Willa with me today no matter who stands in the way!”
Kieran Emberstone’s eyes burned with greed. He had coveted Willa’s beauty for years. Back then she shone too brightly; he could only stare from afar, boiling with jealousy.
Now her meridians were ruined, her talent fallen. He told himself she was already his.
He wanted to taste the former number-one genius of White Tiger Pass.
“I wasn’t clear enough just now?”
“You’re unhappy? Then tell your father to come talk to me!”
Ali Swiftwind’s icy gaze locked on Kieran Emberstone. Years of blood-soaked battles clung to him like a tangible killing mist, spreading across the street and pressing on everyone’s breath.
“Enough!”
Reynold Grayson strode out from the Grayson Manor. He leaned close and whispered something into Kieran’s ear.
“Tomorrow? You want me to wait till tomorrow?”
Kieran growled, jaw tight. He had almost dragged Willa off right there on the road. Wait another day?
“It won’t kill you,” Reynold said flatly. “Tomorrow, just make sure you kill him.”
Kieran seethed but finally clenched his teeth and nodded.
“Tomorrow, on the Cloudwind Platform. I ask all fortress generals to witness my duel with Earl Grayson.”
“A fair fight—life and death decided by fate.”
Reynold shot Earl Grayson a cold glance, dropped the line, and walked away.
“You little piece of trash, I’ll spare you today. But she’s my woman—keep your hands off.”
Kieran swung onto his horse and pulled the bridal procession back down the street.
“Earl Grayson… you're going up the Cloudwind Platform? Did they force you?”
“No need to fear. Since we’re here today, we’ll stand for you and your sister.”
Ali Swiftwind reined his warhorse to a stop before Earl Grayson.
“This is my own choice.”
“I’ll protect my sister.”
“And I’ll prove the direct bloodline isn’t dead yet.”
“Generals, thank you for coming.”
“I’ll remember this favor.”
Earl Grayson tightened his hold around Willa Grayson, bowed to the two generals, and walked away.
Ali Swiftwind watched his figure fade into the cold light, a knot tightening in his chest.
“He hasn’t even awakened his spirit-mark. How’s he supposed to challenge Reynold Grayson?”
“The moment he steps on that stage tomorrow, Reynold will kill him.”
Broderick Kilgore frowned. Truth was, he barely knew this foster son of the Grayson household—hadn’t even seen him a handful of times.
“Eight years,” Ali Swiftwind muttered. “He’s been in the Grayson Estate for eight years.”
His mind drifted back to that night—eight years ago, deep in the pitch of midnight. A blind old man had walked out of the raging, feral Wild Wastes, guiding a young boy. They knocked on the gates of White Tiger Pass and asked to see the Grayson household.
No one knew who they were. No one knew what they said to the Grayson King.
But the next morning, the King took the child in, gave him the Grayson surname, and named him Earl.
That night, it was the Fifth Fortress—his fortress—that the blind old man had knocked upon.
And that scene had carved itself into his memory, refusing to fade even now.
