Shadow Throne: Rebirth Of The Silent Sovereign

The Pill Sect's caravan had arrived at dawn, its wagons covered in silken banners bearing the eight-petaled lotus of alchemy. Gold-braided guards stood at the entrances. Copper bells jingled faintly from the medicine racks. And a sweet, pungent scent filled the air—herbs, fire, and something older. Something sharper.

Lin Feng approached with measured steps, passing rows of hopeful disciples lined up like offerings. They shifted aside without protest.

His presence no longer invited taunts.

Only silence.

He handed his scroll to the attendant at the tent flap, who raised a brow at the seal.

"You're early," the man muttered.

"I was expected," Lin Feng replied.

He entered.

The tent's interior was quiet and warm. Hanging lanterns cast shadows on silk walls, which rippled faintly as though the space itself breathed. Dozens of vials glowed on wooden shelves—some green, some gold, some black.

In the center sat a small table of redwood.

And beside it…

A woman.

Mid-twenties. Unarmored. Her robes marked her as a senior alchemist, though her badge bore no rank. Her eyes, soft and gold like brewed tea, locked instantly onto Lin Feng's face.

But what caught him wasn't her appearance.

It was her aura.

She didn't emanate Qi like others.

She pulled it.

As if every breath she took drew power closer.

"Lin Xun," she said softly, gesturing for him to sit."You look better than they said."

He sat.

"You're not here to assess disciples."

She smiled faintly.

"No. I'm here to assess you."

He studied her in silence.

Something about her voice scratched against his memory—like a name buried under snow.

She placed a vial on the table between them. Its contents shimmered faintly.

"Drink," she said.

"What is it?"

"A diagnostic elixir. Harmless. But if your meridians are damaged, it will show. If your Qi is stolen, it will show. If your cultivation was… altered—"

"It will show," Lin Feng finished.

"Exactly."

"You don't trust the Lin Clan."

"I don't trust anyone."

He drank.

The liquid burned slightly, but faded quickly. A moment later, threads of golden mist rose from his skin, forming patterns in the air—spiritual traces of his meridians, his Qi flow, and…

The shadow.

The alchemist's eyes narrowed.

"Fascinating," she whispered.

She reached forward and moved the mist with two fingers, drawing circles in the air.

"You're running a dual meridian path… no, more like a secondary vessel network. And this Qi isn't elemental."

"It's primordial," she said slowly. "A root system I've never seen. Quiet, cold… it listens more than it speaks."

Lin Feng said nothing.

"This shouldn't be possible," she continued. "Unless someone restructured your cultivation from the foundation up. But who could…"

She trailed off.

Her eyes sharpened.

"Who are you?"

He leaned back.

"You summoned me. You tell me."

The silence stretched.

Then she sighed.

"Do you know the name Yin Serica?"

He did.

He remembered.

"I do."

"She was my master," the woman said. "She died eleven years ago… assassinated during a failed treaty mission between the Northern Blade Temple and the Pill Sect."

"She didn't die in the treaty," Lin Feng said quietly.

The woman froze.

He continued.

"She was poisoned three days before the mission, but used the last of her strength to finish the journey. Her killer was one of her own patients. A man she'd treated for frostburn during the Nightfall Siege."

"You're lying," the alchemist whispered."That was never made public."

Lin Feng's eyes did not blink.

"I know because I was there."

Her hands shook slightly.

"That's impossible."

"Is it?"

"You would've been a boy."

"Or… a man who's walked twice through the same war."

The shadows in the tent trembled.

Not from fear.

From recognition.

She stared at him now not as a boy from the outer branch, but something else.

"You're not just Lin Xun."

"No."

"Then who—?"

"I was the Shadow Sovereign."

The lanterns flickered.

"You're mad," she whispered.

He said nothing.

"Or you're telling the truth," she added.

He didn't need her to believe. Not now. But her reaction confirmed one thing: his name still mattered.

Even if buried in history.

She stood suddenly and walked to a shelf. After a moment, she returned with a small black box.

Inside: a fragment of crystal.

It pulsed slightly when brought near him.

"This was taken from the ruins of the Silent Temple. Twenty years ago. The Order of White Fire called it a cursed object."

"It's not cursed," Lin Feng said."It's a memory shard."

She placed it in his palm.

The moment he touched it, a flicker of violet mist coiled around his fingers—then sank into his skin.

Another piece of himself… returned.

She looked at him for a long moment.

"What are you going to do?"

"Reclaim everything."

"They'll try to kill you."

"They already did. Once."

She nodded, slowly.

"My name is Seren. I owe my master everything. If she once trusted you, even in another life... I'll honor that."

"I'm not here for allies."

"No. But you'll need witnesses."

As Lin Feng turned to leave, she added:

"One more thing."

"Yes?"

"There's a name circulating among the Sect's spies. A cultivator from the east. One who claims the mantle of Heir to the Shadow Sovereign."

Lin Feng stopped walking.

His back stiffened.

"What's his name?"

"Ji Chen."