Fated to Rule, Destined to Love: The Martial Emperor’s Curse

A deafening silence filled the ruined temple as Ling Tian stepped forward. His azure-gold aura shimmered like the dawn breaking through eternal night, radiating both celestial grace and oppressive might. Xu Qing'er stood behind him, her eyes flickering with an unreadable depth.

The air was thick with residual killing intent, remnants of an unseen battle that had taken place eons ago. The ancient stone walls bore the scars of time, and yet, they whispered secrets only those attuned to fate could hear.

Ling Tian's gaze swept across the temple ruins. Something was off. The moment he set foot inside, he felt an invisible force trying to seep into his soul, prying into his very existence.

"Ling Tian…" Xu Qing'er's voice was unusually soft. "Do you feel it?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, his fingers traced the patterns carved into the walls—sigils of an ancient order long erased from history. The patterns formed a vast diagram, converging toward a single symbol at the center of the chamber.

The Vanquished Throne Insignia.

A slow breath escaped his lips.

This was no mere ruin. This was a tomb—a resting place of something far beyond mortal understanding.

Xu Qing'er stepped beside him, her silver eyes flickering with emotions he couldn't decipher. "This place… it's tied to the truth you seek."

Ling Tian's expression remained unreadable. "The truth?"

She hesitated before answering, "The truth of your past… and the fate of your clan."

A cold glint flashed in Ling Tian's eyes.

The Ling Clan.

His family, his home, the very foundation of his existence… had vanished without a trace. Not destroyed. Not conquered. Erased.

Every record, every mention, every piece of history that once carried their name was gone. It was as if they had never existed.

And now, in the depths of these ruins, a forgotten whisper called out to him.

Xu Qing'er's hand lightly brushed against the carvings, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. "They called it the Vanquished Throne… The place where those who defied fate were buried."

Ling Tian clenched his fists. He had defied fate before. He had fought against the chains of destiny, broken through the heavens, and crushed those who sought to control him.

But this…

This was different.

The silence was shattered as the temple trembled. The carvings along the walls lit up, their golden radiance intertwining with Ling Tian's aura.

A deep, resonant voice echoed from the depths of the ruins.

"You who walk the path of the Sovereign… Do you seek the truth?"

Ling Tian's eyes sharpened. "Who are you?"

The voice laughed—low, ancient, filled with untold sorrows.

"I am the one who fell before you could rise… the shadow cast by the light of your existence."

A figure slowly emerged from the void.

A man, clad in robes woven from threads of twilight, stood before him. His face bore a striking resemblance to someone Ling Tian had seen before—in the fragments of his dreams.

Xu Qing'er's breath hitched. "It's…"

But before she could finish, the figure raised his hand. The space around them distorted, pulling them into a realm of swirling memories—visions of an era long buried beneath the sands of time.

The battle of the Vanquished Sovereigns.

The war that had erased the Ling Clan.

The truth that had been stolen from history itself.

And at the center of it all…

Ling Tian's fate.

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