Making up her mind was easy. Acting on it? That was another story. Harnessing the power of the dragon veins wasn't a matter of waving a hand—it required time, manpower, and materials. One misstep, and the force could easily consume the user. Loulan's ministers knew this; the Queen knew this.
Over the following weeks, the city's tension became palpable. Patrols doubled, checkpoints tightened, and notices were issued ordering one of the three major families to assist in constructing a secret palace within the royal grounds. The citizens murmured in fear and frustration, but no one could oppose the royal decree. Even outsiders like Raizen could sense the city's pulse had shifted—from calm to taut, like a bowstring ready to snap.
"Something's brewing in Loulan," Raizen muttered, his sharp gaze sweeping toward the palace. Curiosity, that irrepressible itch, drew him closer.
That night, cloaked in black, Raizen perched atop a giant owl, circling the palace under moonlight. From above, he spotted a cluster of lights deep within the complex.
"Looks like a party… or a disaster," he murmured, squinting. He dropped down with a precise Flying Thunder God Kumo, vanishing from view before the owl's eyes could blink.
Inside, the steady pounding of shovels reached him. Raizen crouched, peering through a gap. Laborers were digging a massive pit beneath the palace, every hand in the city seemingly drawn here for this one purpose.
"They can't just be digging for fun… what are they planning?" Raizen's brows knitted. Intrigue sparked, and he resolved to watch closely for a month, observing Loulan's secret project from the shadows.
A month later, Raizen returned, his patience rewarded. Before him now stretched a colossal underground chamber. Five figures stood inside, the central one wearing a crown—Queen Loulan herself.
"The Queen of Loulan is here?" Raizen whispered. He ducked lower, blending into the shadows.
"Your Majesty, the palace is complete. You may now wield this power," one minister said, voice steady.
The Queen hesitated. "Minister, are you certain there's no risk?"
"Your Majesty, I swear it. There's absolutely no danger," the minister replied with confidence, knowing the Queen's hesitation.
"Then this matter is entrusted to you," she said, finally giving the green light. As the Queen and four ministers exited the chamber, Raizen slipped further into the shadows, unseen.
"Seal the power… dragon veins," he murmured, piecing it together.
He approached the altar at the center of the chamber. The moment his fingers grazed its surface, a violent surge of chakra coursed through him, jarring him to his core. Pain flared, electricity cracking over his skin. The dragon vein's raw force erupted upward, shooting a brilliant pillar of energy into the sky.
"No! Who touched the altar?!" a minister screamed.
Raizen barely had time to react as the altar's power overwhelmed him, vision swimming, consciousness teetering on the edge. Time blurred—hours, days, maybe weeks passed—until finally, sunlight pierced his eyes.
"Where… am I?" he muttered, shielding his face. The landscape around him had changed dramatically.
Movement drew his attention—a figure sprinting past him, a flash of gold hair catching the sun.
"Hey! Don't run!" Raizen called instinctively, only to have a young man, maybe fifteen or sixteen, hurl a punch at him. Raizen ducked with reflexive precision, letting the boy collide with a nearby post.
The golden-haired youth scrambled to his feet, touching his stomach and glaring at Raizen. "Damn it! That guy got away… and he has a partner?!"
"I didn't run, and I'm no one's helper," Raizen muttered dryly, stepping forward.
The boy spun around, kunai drawn, eyes wide. A second later, Raizen caught the stabbing hand effortlessly. He stared at the boy, puzzled. The other party had made the first move—but why did it feel like Raizen was at fault?
The golden-haired boy's chest heaved. Rage and confusion warred in his expression as he glared at Raizen. The game had begun—and Raizen couldn't help but smirk.