The sun is setting; its rays are like molten gold.
The mystic ascended the lofty platform alone and surveyed the world below. The Red Sun Empire’s territory stretched endlessly, and its capital’s prosperity was unparalleled; yet a sense of unease welled up within him.
“Why? I have built a powerful empire whose strength is at its peak; my army is invincible under heaven; the iron sword in my hand has never met an equal—yet why do I feel uneasy?” Master Xuan said softly.
A palm-sized leaf rolled through the air before gently landing before him. The mystic extended his palm; the green leaf fell into it, its surface quickly cracking and withering, revealing a line of small characters: “The Red Sun Sets West!” Who could possess such power to perform such a supernatural act? A chill ran through the mystic’s heart as he suddenly understood the source of his unease: one day, the Red Sun Empire would set like the sunset on the horizon—perhaps right before his eyes! The leaf quickly turned yellow and withered, and the characters vanished. The mystic crushed the leaf and descended from the platform.
The red sun on the horizon slowly sank westward, and his heart felt heavy with an inexplicable sense of unease.
The black-clad soldiers stepped forward and said, “General, it’s time to return to your residence.”
The mystic gripped the Black Iron Sword tightly in his hand, thinking to himself, “I was overly cautious. No one could defeat the Empire; from now on, peace would prevail throughout the land.”
Three months later, there was a major change.
On the night in the imperial capital, a heavy rainstorm was falling.
The mystic of the Black Robe Iron Sword stood before the General’s residence. The cold night rain continuously streamed down his face and neck, yet he felt not a trace of chill.
The towering mansion of the General-in-Chief before him gradually blurred in his vision, like a dream or an illusion; everything seemed merely a fantasy. Soon, he would be forced to leave for distant lands.
Countless master warriors were advancing toward the general’s residence. The glorious days of Master Xuan, the empire’s highest-ranking general, were over for good. As the saying goes: “When the birds are gone, the fine bow is put away; when the cunning rabbit is dead, its henchmen are slaughtered.”
The empire no longer needed ministers like him, whose extraordinary contributions had overshadowed the emperor himself.
Everything is changing too quickly.
The Emperor once respected him, but now fears him and seeks to eliminate him. As the foremost martial artist of the Red Sun Empire, he enjoys numerous privileges: he may carry his sword to court, execute ministers before the Emperor’s eyes, and commands the empire’s most powerful army—no one holds greater authority than he does.
The Emperor was his third brother; the empire was established by him and his second brother, Qingxuan.
The three sworn brothers shared different surnames: Master Xuan ranked first, Qingxuan second, and the reigning monarch Xiao Wuji third.
Twenty years ago, the Magic Continent was in turmoil as nations of all sizes were locked in constant warfare. The three individuals started from scratch: the mystic master leveraged his martial prowess and reputation to establish a formidable Sacred Knight Legion that swept across the land; the great mage Qingxuan formed a powerful magical army that secured half of the empire for the Red Sun Empire; while Emperor Xiao Wuji remained in the capital, overseeing all logistical operations from behind the lines.
Today, the Red Sun Empire boasts vast and boundless territory, and peace prevails throughout its lands—but they are no longer as unbreakable as iron.
“No one can defeat the empire except her own hands. Yet I no longer have the strength or desire to build another powerful empire. This life is but a dream—looking back, it’s all in vain,” said Master Xuan softly.
To his surprise, his brilliant life had only just begun.
He dismissed all his staff; his wife had died in the war, and his two children, Xuan Yun and Xuan Yue, were now with his second brother Qingxuan. In the imperial capital, he no longer had any attachments there.
Perhaps only Qingxuan could turn the situation around, but he was far away on the horizon.
The mystic sighed deeply; such was the will of heaven, and he could do nothing about it. The General’s residence before him appeared to him as nothing more than smoke or mist.
He turned around and walked forward through the raging storm; the imposing mansion of the general crumbled before his eyes, and with it fell the mighty Red Sun Empire.
A white, elaborately decorated carriage appeared before him amidst the misty night rain. The mystic master halted his steps; the carriage’s curtains were raised, and the clear voice of little Prince Xiao Nongyue reached his ears.
“General, where are you going?” he asked.
The mystic closed his eyes. Countless experts were advancing toward this direction from afar, and the emperor appeared fully prepared—the experts summoned from near the capital had already arrived. If he had departed during the day, the emperor would certainly not have dared to stop him, knowing well the mystic’s prowess.
Yet the mystic master lingered, leaving the sovereign deeply uneasy. A tiger may not harm humans, but humans harbor a tiger’s intent; only by eliminating this ferocious beast could he find peace of mind.
“The world is vast; there is no place I cannot go,” replied Master Xuan.
“General, I ask you to promise me one thing: from now on, wherever you go, you must never do anything that harms the Red Sun Empire. Can you agree?” the prince asked.
The mystic shook his head, “Was it him who asked you to come and inquire? Go back and tell him that I’m accustomed to freedom and have no desire for any constraints,” he said.
The prince sighed deeply and asked, “General, why are you leaving only now?”
“I want to wait for his apology, and at the same time, I want to tell him that no one in this world can stop me; if I decide to leave, sending as many people as you wish will be of no use!” Master Xuan replied, his voice echoing throughout the room.
The prince asked no further questions; the carriage turned around and departed, soon vanishing into the misty night.
“Xiao Wuji, from now on our relationship is completely severed. For the great Red Sun Empire, I cannot bear to see you become like a setting sun; I have no choice but to leave,” Master Xuan said softly, his black mystic iron sword gleaming with a cold light.
Thundersounds echoed across the sky as lightning pierced through the night’s darkness. A torrential rain poured down, accompanied by a shower of magical arrows. The mystic raised his head to see magicians darting about, their arrows shooting down from the heavens and exploding beside him, releasing beautiful sparks.
Before anyone knew it, Xiao Wuji had established a mysterious magical army. Master Xuan shook his head; the capital’s military forces were always personally commanded by the sovereign himself. To deal with someone like him—a high-ranking general—only deploying the imperial army could be truly reliable.
Taking advantage of the darkness of night, Master Xuan swiftly moved through the rain—no arrow could harm him, nor could any stop his advance. With his sword in hand, he marched straight toward the western gate, while heads flashed across the gloomy sky.
The rain intensified, pouring down along the streets. The mystic avoided the narrow alleys and walked only on the main roads. Black-clad warriors emerged from both sides; each remained silent, focused solely on drawing their swords. The magicians in the air were helpless. In the darkness of the torrential downpour, they could see nothing clearly, hearing only the constant clash of weapons below.
The master’s mind was as calm as still water; both opponents wore black garments and armor, yet there was not the slightest sign of chaos—everything remained perfectly orderly. He inwardly marveled that these black-clad warriors possessed extraordinary martial prowess, yet they proved utterly powerless against him, the renowned greatest holy swordsman under heaven. Having fought countless battles, whether in single combat or amidst chaotic battlefields, he had never been defeated.
After crossing a street, the black-clad warriors gradually dispersed. Five figures in black stood motionless ahead like mountains, their fierce aura of violence pressing down upon him. He gasped in shock and exclaimed, “The Ten Swords of the Imperial Capital!”