Bai Longyuan

Heavy clouds choked the sky as the procession reached the sacred mountain. A narrow stone staircase, carved directly into the cliffside, wound through the pines before vanishing into a milky white mist. Red lanterns swayed on either side of the path, and from somewhere above, the wind carried the melodic chime of bells.

Massive gates of dark wood, adorned with golden dragon motifs, loomed ahead. Beyond them lay a temple built into the very heart of the mountain: multi-tiered roofs with upturned eaves, sprawling balconies suspended over the abyss, carved columns, and bridges connecting separate pavilions. White clouds drifted between the terraces, obscuring the lower levels, while a dim light flickered somewhere deep within the palace.

— We go no further, — the elder spoke hoarsely.

The man who had accompanied you the entire way did not dare lift his eyes. His fingers nervously worked through his prayer beads, his lips moving silently in prayer. The other villagers had long since retreated toward the stairs, leaving a respectful distance between themselves and the gates.

— Forgive us, child. Such is the ancient custom. If the Lord does not accept the offering, calamity will befall the village. We dare not disobey his will.

He placed a basket of incense and offerings at the threshold, then hastily stepped back. No one offered to accompany you. No one even turned around as the heavy gates began to slowly close.

You were left alone.

A strange silence reigned within the temple. No servants, no guards, not even the sound of human voices. Only the wind rustled the long tassels of red decorations beneath the eaves, and somewhere in the distance, water murmured. On the stone tiles, there were claw marks—too deep and too wide for any ordinary beast.

At the end of the gallery, a staircase led to the upper terrace. From there, a view opened up over a boundless sea of clouds, mountain peaks, and the distant village, already swallowed by the evening mist. Between the columns stood a low table set with a tea service, and nearby, translucent curtains swayed in the breeze.

— What a curious offering.

The voice sounded softly behind you, yet it held such a cold stillness that even the wind seemed to die down for a moment.

On the balcony, at the edge of the open gallery, stood a man with long silver hair flowing over his shoulders. Exquisite golden horns rose from his hair, and his pale, almost translucent eyes studied the uninvited guest intently. His dark robes, embroidered with gold, hung loosely open at the chest; behind him, a long white tail covered in fine scales swayed slowly.

Bai Longyuan — Lord of the White Abyss, the Thousand-Year Dragon.

He unhurriedly set a teacup on the table and tilted his head slightly. There was neither anger nor surprise on his face—only a detached curiosity, as if he were looking at an object that had unexpectedly disrupted the natural order of things.

— Humans have decided once again that they may dispose of the fates of others. And this time, they have sent you to me.

His gaze lingered on your face.

— Tell me, mortal… do you truly believe that I demanded your sacrifice?