Melina a child born with special powers the world has never seen. in order to protect her her Grandfather, the sect Elder of the world's most evil sect locked her away. However Melina crafty as ever escaped and set off to see the world.
In Eric Danjul's palace, a grand banquet unfolded. Nobles and dignitaries from various races mingled under the watchful eyes of guards stationed throughout the hall. The air buzzed with lively conversations, subtle exchanges, and occasional bickering, until the sharp voice of a servant cut through the chatter.
"Master Danjul is coming!" the servant announced, and the room fell silent.
All eyes turned toward the grand seating area at the head of the hall. Eric Danjul entered, his luxurious attire glimmering under the soft glow of chandeliers. His striking green eyes were cold, and as he stepped forward, an oppressive aura washed over the room. A suffocating pressure made many guests shudder; their expressions shifted to ones of dread and unease. Only a select few seemed unaffected, their gazes meeting Danjul's.
The tension in the room lifted as Eric released his aura and sat on his chair. He scanned the room, his lips curving into a faint smile.
"For the first time in a hundred years, we've been allowed the honor of visiting this castle, and it does not disappoint!" a man exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration. "Master Danjul, your palace is truly unparalleled. I've never seen so many rare treasures gathered in one place!"
Eric's expression softened slightly, and his laughter boomed, filling the hall. "Hahaha! That's because my lovely granddaughter made many of them!" he declared proudly.
The mention of his granddaughter prompted a sigh from the young man seated at Eric's right. He had dark brown skin, emerald-green eyes that mirrored Eric's, and long black hair cascading over his shoulders with dragon-like horns on his head.
"We haven't seen our sister in years, Grandpa," the young man, Prometheus, remarked, his voice tinged with a mix of irritation and sadness.
Eric chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "Well, she ran away, Prometheus. What can I say? She has your mother's attitude."
Prometheus's brows furrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "She ran away? When? Why wasn't I informed?"
Before Eric could respond, another young man interjected. He sat beside Prometheus, his short, fiery red hair and matching horns. His green eyes gleamed with curiosity as he leaned forward.
"So, what's this banquet really for?" he asked, his tone casual yet laced with excitement. Unlike his brother, he wore traditional white attire, which contrasted sharply against his brown skin.
"You idiot!" barked one of the elder attendees, a stern-looking man with a long silver beard. He glared at the red-haired youth. "How can you not know? This banquet is to celebrate Elder Danjul's birthday! It's an event that only happens once every century!"
The young man—Qifeng—flinched at the reprimand, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Oh, right… I forgot."
Eric laughed again, this time softer. "Don't berate him too much, Elder Feng. My grandson has always been more brawn than brains, haven't you, Qifeng?"
"Hey! That's not fair!" Qifeng protested, though his wide grin betrayed his lack of offense.
Prometheus shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he muttered, "Some people are still idiots after all these years."
"Meanie," Qifeng muttered, rolling his eyes at the Prometheus' rebuke, before stuffing a piece of fruit into his mouth.
Suddenly, Eric Danjul shook his head. "My granddaughter! I miss you so much!" he wailed, startling several of the guests.
"Eh? Where's our sister, Grandpa?" asked another young man seated nearby. His long blue hair shimmered under the hall's light, and his pale blue eyes gleamed with curiosity. Like his brothers, he bore dragon horns, though his were a delicate silver hue. Dressed in a sleek black outfit, his fair skin made him seem different but he was definitely their brother.
Eric sighed deeply. "I honestly have no idea. She didn't tell me much, just that she wanted to explore the world. The shadow guards are still tracking her down."
He paused, then added with a faint smile, "But don't worry. She's strong—stronger than any of you, I'd wager. She can handle herself just fine."
Songhua, the blue-haired grandson, leaned forward, his pale eyes welling up. "You could have just let her join the sect, Grandpa! Then we'd all be together," he blurted out, his voice cracking.
Eric rubbed his temples, a weary chuckle escaping him. "Ah, my foggy old brain. A hundred thousand years does that to you, you know." He sighed heavily, though a mischievous twinkle danced in his green eyes.
"Grandpa!" All three grandsons chorused in unison, exasperation etched on their faces.
Before Eric could respond, a thunderous voice echoed through the hall, silencing the room. "Congratulations on Elder Danjul's hundred-thousandth birthday!"
The source of the voice stepped forward—a towering man with tan skin and a muscular build that seemed carved from stone. His horns, dark red and curved like an ancient crown, glinted beautifully under the light. His eyes burned with the same fiery hue, and his majestic clothing made him appear every bit as the king he was. Behind him stood a group of cultivators.
Eric's sharp green eyes flickered as he assessed the newcomers. 'Nascent Star stage, all of them,' he thought coldly. His gaze then shifted to the man who had spoken. 'But him... and two of his guards—they're Void Star stage.'
Standing from his seat, Eric smoothed his robes and smiled broadly, though there was no warmth in the gesture. In an instant, he appeared before the man, his movements so swift that many in the hall hadn't even seen him rise.
"Royal Dragon King Hangu," Eric greeted, his tone polite but firm.
The guests murmured among themselves, their anxiety rising. 'Two of the most strongest Void Star cultivators in one room. This is such an honour!'
Hangu's fiery eyes scanned the hall, lingering on the strange artifacts and decor scattered throughout. "I wanted to meet your granddaughter a few years ago," he began, his voice low and cold. "But you denied me that opportunity."
Eric's polite smile hardened, his tone chilling. "She doesn't like visitors."
"I see," Hangu replied, his expression unreadable. His gaze swept the banquet hall once more, lingering on the peculiar furnishings. "So all these... were made by her?"
Eric nodded proudly. "Yes, Melina is quite the remarkable child. Intelligent beyond her years and an exceptional fighter!"
Hangu's lips parted as though he were about to say something, but Eric cut him off sharply. "I refuse."
Hangu blinked, taken aback. "But I didn't even say anything yet!" he protested, with a frown.
"You didn't need to," Eric said.