The City of a Thousand Fragrances never truly slept.
At dawn, its narrow streets filled with interwoven scents—burning spices, medicinal herbs, rare incense, and sizzling meat. A perfumed haze drifted above the rooftops, like an invisible veil draped over the entire city.
To the north, on the horizon, a colossal silhouette dominated the world: the Chain of Spirit and Demonic Beast Mountains. A sea of ancient peaks, dark and silent, where—even among seasoned mages and cultivators—people were said to vanish without a trace.
***
But in a lively alley, far from legends and danger… two figures darted between market stalls at full speed.
"Catch me if you can!"
A boy leapt over a crate of fruit, knocking several apples to the ground.
"In your dreams!" the other shot back, chasing him with a grin.
They looked identical at first glance. Twins… or so it seemed. But upon closer inspection, the difference was unmistakable.
One had long white hair, nearly silver, flowing behind him with every movement. His eyes shimmered with shifting hues—colors blending without ever settling.
The other wore long crimson hair, loosely tied behind his back. His gaze was simpler… stark black and white, sharp and unyielding.
Yet they ran in perfect sync. Like two halves of the same whole. Their laughter rang through the clamor of merchants.
"Hey! Get back here!" a vendor shouted furiously.
A passerby stared at them for a moment… then quickly looked away, unsettled without understanding why. By then, the boys had already vanished around the corner, leaving behind overturned fruit and lingering chaos.
***
The modest district of the City of a Thousand Fragrances was a stark contrast to the bustling central avenues. The stones were worn, the buildings lower, and refined perfumes gave way to simpler scents—damp earth, dried herbs, and warm soup.
At the turn of a quiet alley stood a small wooden shop that nonetheless drew attention.
Suspended at its entrance were several silver lotuses, glowing faintly in the morning light. Their delicate petals released a calming fragrance.
A carriage stopped in front of the shop. A man dressed in fine garments stepped down, frowning slightly as he surveyed the surroundings.
"Is this the place?"
The coachman nodded.
"Yes, master. They say the lotuses sold here can soothe even the most troubled hearts… especially those of noble ladies."
The man allowed himself a faint smile.
"Hm. If it can calm my wife, it's worth trying."
Inside the shop, an old man slowly raised his eyes. His movements were calm, precise. Before him, he carefully trimmed the stem of a silver lotus, as though handling something far more precious than a mere plant.
Without fully looking up, he spoke in a steady voice:
"Lotuses soothe the heart…"
A pause.
Then, with measured slowness:
"But they do not heal what is already broken."
The old man finally lifted his head. His gaze briefly swept over the man's clothes… then the pouch at his waist. A nearly imperceptible glint crossed his eyes. The next instant, his expression softened into a warm smile.
"Welcome to my shop."
His tone was now lighter, in sharp contrast to the gravity from moments before. He gently picked up a silver lotus.
"Freshly gathered under moonlight. Their fragrance calms the mind and eases troubled emotions."
The man hesitated, fingers tightening around his pouch.
"My wife… she's not the same anymore. She barely speaks… and nothing I do seems to reach her."
The old man studied him in silence, then slowly placed the lotus back in his hands.
"Hm… You may speak freely here. Sometimes, what we try to soothe… isn't what we truly understand."
***
A few minutes later, the man left the shop. The silver lotus rested carefully wrapped in his hands, as if he carried something fragile… or hope itself.
He paused at the entrance.
"You're certain this will be enough…?"
His voice betrayed a worry he no longer tried to conceal.
Inside, the old man didn't even look up.
"Enough…?"
A brief silence.
"That depends on what you're truly expecting."
The man froze for a second, then climbed back into his carriage without another word. The wheels creaked as it rolled away down the alley.
A moment of calm settled.
Then—
"Move! I'm winning!"
Two figures burst into the street at full speed, shattering the silence like a stone through still water. The boys crossed the threshold of the shop.
The contrast was immediate.
Moments ago, they had run like wild spirits through the streets. Now, they walked slowly… almost too slowly. A strange silence surrounded them.
"Grandfather…"
They spoke at the same time. Their voices, usually lively, had become unexpectedly subdued.
The old man did not respond. Seated behind the counter, he continued sorting his lotuses as if they didn't exist.
The twins exchanged a glance. Then one of them tried, with a slightly too innocent smile:
"We're back."
No immediate answer.
The old man slowly set down the lotus in his hands and finally looked at them.
"Interesting…" His voice was low, distant. Then his gaze sharpened. "You've made quite a name for yourselves. The city center. Stalls overturned. An angry merchant. Do you really think that wouldn't reach me?"
Neither spoke.
The old man sighed. No anger. Just… fatigue.
"You're stubborn. And yet…" His gaze softened, just slightly. "I raised you as my own grandsons."
***
Wang Lin lowered his head slightly.
"Grandfather… I—"
He hesitated, glancing briefly at his brother.
Wang Chen's gaze was calm. Fixed. Heavy with silent reproach.
Wang Lin took a breath before continuing, his voice lower:
"We're sorry."
This time, there was no attempt at humor.
Beside him, Wang Chen added simply:
"It won't happen again."
The old man observed them for a long moment. His eyes, usually dim with age, seemed to pierce through them, searching for the slightest trace of deceit.
Silence stretched, broken only by the faint crackle of incense.
Then he stood.
The wooden floor creaked beneath his steps—a sound that echoed like a quiet toll.
"Go upstairs."
His voice was calm, but absolute.
"If you want to become mages…"
He paused, turning toward them. His gaze was sharper now, like a blade drawn from its sheath.
"Then start by learning control."
The air thickened.
"Power without control is nothing but disaster."
He gestured toward the narrow staircase leading upward, where the scent of medicinal herbs was strongest.
"All day. No excuses."
***
The boys climbed the narrow stairs, one behind the other. The wood creaked under their steps, a steady rhythm echoing their tension.
Below, the shop door closed.
The sound of the lock snapping into place cut them off from the outside world.
Upstairs, the air was denser, saturated with herbs and residual spiritual energy that stung the nose.
The old man joined them silently.
"Wang Chen."
The red-haired boy lifted his head slightly. His black-and-white gaze did not waver.
"The harvest last night."
A brief pause.
"I failed."
His voice was flat. No excuses. No emotion.
"I still cannot properly control lunar magic."
The old man said nothing.
Wang Chen raised his hand slowly, two fingers extended.
The air around him tightened—resisting.
Then—
With a subtle tremor, several lotuses appeared.
Their petals were black—deep ebony—devouring the light around them, leaving behind a palpable darkness.
They twisted faintly, as if alive.
Ebony lotuses.
A heavy silence fell.
The old man blinked. His features hardened for a brief instant.
Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, unease… recognition.
"…I see," he murmured. "Again."
An invisible pressure filled the room. Shelves trembled. Breathing grew difficult.
Wang Lin closed his eyes, struggling to stay upright.
Then—a voice echoed.
Not in the air.
In his brother's mind.
" Don't worry… I'll win again. "
Wang Lin.
Provocative, even now.
Wang Chen didn't move. But his gaze shifted slightly toward him, unreadable.
***
The old man raised two fingers.
Golden dust gathered at their tips, swirling like sacred fireflies.
With a sharp motion, he drew an arc through the air.
Space tore open.
Before the twins, a monumental door materialized—engraved with intricate symbols, pulsing with ancient light.
Each rune felt like a truth too vast to grasp.
"Enter."
The doors opened slowly, revealing a blinding white abyss.
TRAINING HALL
The boys froze.
Wang Chen stepped forward first.
Wang Lin followed, a chill running down his spine.
They crossed the threshold.
Behind them, the door closed in absolute silence.
The shop, the lotuses, the city—
Gone.
The true path to power had begun.
But at what cost?