Chapter Nine: Tenfold Seal

The same dream recurred again and again; he was drowning in a sea of blood, yet he had no idea where these scenes came from—were they fragments of the memory he had lost?

Now, all he remembered was that first moment when he left the research institute. His small hand was held by a warm, large hand, step by step out of the dim underground into dazzling sunlight. His eyes, unused to daylight for so long, squinted against the brightness, and he raised his palm to shield them, its edges glowing a fleshy red.

“What’s your name?”

The gentle voice beside him asked, and then the middle-aged man crouched down, his kind face filling Blackfeather’s vision. Whether then or now, that face always brimmed with smiles; he was the Lord of Scarlet Flame City, Yisheng, who later took him in as his adopted son.

“Blackfeather.” That was his answer at the time, a name he had chosen for himself.

Who had he been before that? His earlier memories were a blank.

Blackfeather sighed softly, his thoughts wandering aimlessly through the quiet air.

“This birthmark has been here since I was born. Every so often, it sends waves of piercing, unbearable pain…”

After Yisheng brought the young Blackfeather home, the attacks from the birthmark grew more frequent, each harder to control than the last. At its worst, he would lose consciousness and rampage. Whenever this happened, Yisheng would bind him with iron chains in the basement, keeping him hidden from Yixin until the torment subsided.

But that day, the Lord had gone to the Divine Realm, attending the alliance meeting convened by the Empire. Only Yixin was home.

Blackfeather still remembered that uncontrollable rampage. Yixin was only ten at the time, a year older than Blackfeather. He expected the child to cry and panic like others his age, but he was wrong.

He saw only a fleeting surprise in Yixin’s eyes—astonishment outweighed fear—and then his gaze burned with killing intent.

What happened next, Blackfeather could not recall, his mind shrouded in confusion. He only heard that when the Lord of Scarlet Flame City rushed back, it wasn’t Blackfeather he fought to restrain, but the frenzied Yixin. Blackfeather was pinned to the ground and beaten mercilessly, nearly killed. It was their first fight, and Blackfeather suffered a crushing defeat.

After that, Yisheng inscribed a flame-shaped seal in Blackfeather’s palm, locking away his dark powers, leaving only a small portion accessible.

Yisheng had said:

“This seal has ten levels, from one to ten. With each release, your power will leap in magnitude. If you wish to wield all your dark strength, you must first become strong enough to match it.”

From then on, he never lost control and rampaged because of overwhelming power.

Thus, Blackfeather resolved to attend the Academy of Magic and study, hoping to grow stronger and ultimately break free from the tenfold seal.

He had another wish: to investigate the mystery of his origins. Who were his parents, and why did he possess dark powers?

Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

Before he could respond, Lingxiao Tear barged in, rough and loud, as if entering her own home.

“Hey, do you have any toothpaste I can borrow? Shampoo too… Classes have started and I don’t have time for a part-time job, so my living expenses are probably running out again…”

She had a toothbrush in her mouth, a cup in one hand, wearing pajamas and slippers, her hair in disarray as she strode straight in and turned into the bathroom by the door. Clearly, she had just come down from the girls’ dormitory upstairs.

This dormitory building stood at the forefront of the entire complex, home to first-year students. There were four floors: boys on the first and second, girls on the third and fourth. Blackfeather lived on the second floor, where his window overlooked a broad sports field, the towering main building, library and cafeteria beyond.

Blackfeather sat up, his feet dangling off the bed, utterly accustomed to Lingxiao Tear’s boisterous behavior.

Outside the half-open door came the lively din of students returning from dinner, warm light streaming through the crack, intermittently broken by passing figures.

Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out in the corridor.

“You, and you, come with me to the next room. You lot, head across the hall.”

Wherever this voice appeared, it seemed to swiftly become the focus and leader of any group. Indeed, it was Yixin. Soon, he and two other freshmen pushed open Blackfeather’s door.

“Freshmen! To welcome you to the Academy, you are awarded—”

He had clearly not seen who was inside; entering, he launched into his speech, eloquent and enthusiastic, but abruptly stopped upon realizing Blackfeather was seated on the bed. His words cut off, his eyelids drooped, and he casually tossed the badge to the floor, saying tersely:

“Badge. Take it.”

A silver badge flashed in the air, landing on the floor with a pleasant chime.

Yixin turned to leave, but suddenly felt his arm gripped firmly by a hand from the right.

“Badge? Is there one for me…”

Lingxiao Tear, toothbrush still in her mouth, stepped out of the bathroom, toothpaste foam bubbling at the corners of her lips.

“Oh, for the girls’ dorm, I remember it’s Lingmeng who’s distributing them…” Yixin answered automatically, then froze, staring wide-eyed at Lingxiao Tear.

“You two live together?”

“Pfft—” Lingxiao Tear spat out her mouthful of rinse water. “You’re the one living together!”

Yixin sized her up—pajamas and slippers, what else could it be but cohabitation? He closed the door, saying,

“Sorry for the intrusion.”

The mention of Lingmeng’s name made Blackfeather react instantly.

“Lingmeng, the gorgeous light elf?”

He never forgot a beautiful face. Moreover, “Ling” was the surname of the light elves; he made the connection at once.

“So that blonde beauty is called Lingmeng…”

Just repeating her name, Blackfeather felt waves of fragrance drift around him. He thought of the beauty in his dreams, then glanced at the girl before him: loose pajamas, flat chest, neither curvaceous nor striking in appearance, the dark elf was ordinary in every way. He felt a pang of disappointment.

The more he compared, the more he noticed this girl lacked both figure and looks, and her skin was dark as charcoal. He sighed, shaking his head—thoughts of “changing teammates” arose unbidden.

Lingxiao Tear seemed to catch something from his odd expression; her eyes widened like lanterns, furious.

“Blackfeather! What are you thinking?” She looked down at herself. “Why… why did I make you sigh?”

“Oh, right.”

Yixin, who had just stepped out, suddenly recalled something and turned back.