Chapter 1
“Master of Blades,” a young disciple announced nervously. “Here is the roster of the new initiates,” he added, glancing tentatively at the elder seated beneath the peach tree in quiet contemplation. Gideon Everwind’s mind was still consumed by the events of the previous day, but he slowly snapped back to reality as the interruption broke his tranquil reverie. Gideon, rarely seen with a smile and always donned in a mask, caused the disciples around him to steal cautious glances, too intimidated to look for long. However, today was different. The usually aloof figure of the Master of Blades had an air of distraction about him, his pale lips pressed tightly, giving him a somewhat less frosty demeanor that emboldened a few to gaze upon him for just a moment longer. The winds whistled through Skyfall Summit, sending a chill through the air. As the disciple held the roster, a delicate peach blossom gracefully floated down, landing on Gideon’s lips before being whisked away once more by the gusts. The disciple felt his heart skip a beat unexpectedly. Caught between the blush of spring and an aura of icy serenity, curiosity began to brew in him about the visage hidden beneath that mask. Outsiders often spoke of Gideon Everwind, saying he was a man of emotionless disposition, his appearance frightful, enough to silence even the most restless children, which was why he was condemned to wear the mask. No one had ever laid eyes upon the true visage of the Master of Blades. But was this refined figure truly as ugly as the rumors claimed? His thoughts were a jumbled mess, and it took a moment before he heard Gideon’s calm, gravelly voice call out, “Hand it over.” Perhaps it was due to his infrequent speech, but Gideon’s voice resonated like a soft breeze through snowy pines. Melodic yet faint, it held a strange power over the disciple, causing him to feel an unwarranted anxiety. Why was he so rattled? He had faced other important figures before—even Brother Lucian, the charming figure of Skyfall Summit—without such unease. As he pondered this, the roster was exchanged. The document displayed the names of the New Squires awakening into the Order of the Pure Light, the most revered sect in the lands. Spanning three primary peaks: Harmony Peak, Horned Peak, and Skyfall Summit, the Brothers of the Three Peaks operated under the guidance of the eminent Hall of Radiance’s leader, Cyril Shadebreath. To prevent their sect from dwindling, Cyril had established a tradition. Each year, the Order of the Pure Light would open its doors to recruits, striving to breathe life into the sect. Yet, even with this practice, very few initiates remained after their year-long apprenticeship within the Three Peaks. After induction, the disciples would be scattered among the peaks, where their fortunes would be decided by their respective peak masters after a year’s time. As the current master of Skyfall Summit, it was Gideon’s duty to review the newcomers. With a moment's hesitation, he opened the roster. As he scanned the names, his brow furrowed slightly when he encountered a familiar one: Fiona Ashwood. Just as he thought. Gideon Everwind mused, not out of foresight but because he was keenly aware that he belonged to a narrative of his own. In truth, Gideon Everwind wasn’t originally from this world; he found himself here after his demise, akin to reincarnation with remnants of past memories. But his recollections didn’t return until recently despite having lived for a century in this realm. Once, this world was merely a tale chronicling a gifted young hero named Lucian Stormbringer, whose remarkable beauty and talent stirred envy and admiration alike. As Lucian approached adulthood, a rivalry flared, culminating in the destruction of House of Lucian to steal what was deemed a treasure beyond compare.
Chapter 2
Gideon Everwind found himself unexpectedly embroiled in the Order of Mystic Arts, a secretive society where his exceptional talents caught the eye of the revered Skyfall Summit leader, Lord Reginald, who took him under his wing as a disciple. After mastering his skills, Gideon not only avenged the massacre of his family but also found himself the object of affection for several prominent figures, including the enigmatic healer, Eldrin, the alluring Lady Fiona Ashwood, and the mysterious Lord of Shadows. At the time, Gideon hadn’t fully grasped the complex dynamics laid out in the novel about this mystical world—mostly because the romantic entanglements were overshadowing the plot. The main character was either tangled in a love affair or on a path leading straight to one. He had previously scoffed at this narrative in his past life, never imagining he would become a vital character within its pages. Now, as he stood at the center of this world, Gideon Everwind played an incredibly significant role as the Skyfall Summit leader. The author had stressed in the book that Lucian Stormbringer, the main character, had a guiding light—his 'white moonlight' who had once rescued him from the brink of despair, handing him a handkerchief at his lowest moment. Yet, after last night, Gideon's uncertainty transformed into realization: he was indeed that vanished light from the story. As he stared at the registration book, one of his anxious disciples, Halberd Juste, stammered, “Lord Reginald, is there something wrong with Fiona Ashwood?" Gideon’s slender, pale fingers hovered over the name Fiona Ashwood, and before he could respond, the air shifted with an unnerving energy from outside. Just then, a familiar voice broke the silence. “Disciple Lucian Stormbringer requests an audience with his master.” Gideon had expected Lucian to shy away for days following the previous night's heartfelt declaration, yet here he was, returning utterly unaffected. Gideon frowned slightly; he hadn’t anticipated this quick approach. Halberd's curiosity piqued upon hearing Lucian’s name, and he snuck a glance outside, his thoughts shifting rapidly. Gideon wasn’t surprised by the attention Lucian commanded; he was quite the heartthrob—a striking figure capable of captivating anyone who laid eyes upon him. After weighing the decision to meet Lucian, Gideon ultimately decided against avoidance. He had learned not to shy away from confrontations, even those fraught with emotional complexity. As that thought settled, the courtyard door swung open, revealing a handsome young man in simple white attire accented with black embroidery. Lucian Stormbringer appeared so youthful and unspoiled, barely into adulthood, yet his presence was striking enough to take breaths away. The descriptions in the text painted Lucian as enchanting—his beauty was likened to rocks carved by time, radiant as the full moon. He exuded an aura compelling enough to draw the most reluctant of gazes. As Lucian stepped into the courtyard, Halberd caught a faint, irresistible fragrance wafting from him. Just as astonished as Halberd, Gideon found himself momentarily ensnared in Lucian’s ethereal charm. The moment broke, jarring Halberd to reality, who immediately knelt with a flurry of apologies. “Thank you, Master!” he exclaimed, panic evident in his voice. Recognizing Halberd’s haste to retrieve his composure, Gideon glanced at his disciple, noticing the fervor in his eyes. With a dismissive wave of his hand, Gideon returned to his observations of Lucian, who stood before him, an embodiment of allure and potential.
Chapter 3
“Your spiritual energy is weak; don't succumb to the allure of this fragrance too much, or it may destabilize your foundation.” Lucian Stormbringer was not merely a beauty; the intoxicating scent that emanated from him was what truly captured the attention of those around him. The lower one's cultivation, the less able they were to resist its pull. Halberd Juste dared not speak further. Lucian shot him a quick glance, then returned his gaze. Despite his striking appearance, he was notoriously stern when it came to anyone outside of his master. At that moment, he turned his full attention to Gideon Everwind, clearly preferring to speak without any onlookers present. Following the confession from the previous night, Gideon was also keen to prevent any speculation from those nearby. He picked up a scroll and directed Halberd gently, “You can head back now.” “I'll discuss the arrangements for the New Squire with you later,” he continued, his voice like a cold wind dispelling the tension brought on by Lucian's presence. Halberd felt a chill in his heart, unable to suppress a glance at him, feeling a twinge of self-reproach for his earlier behavior. He should have known better than to let Lucian’s heady scent entice him. How embarrassing to have lost his composure in front of the master—he worried whether Gideon would think he lacked determination. The more he dwelled on it, the more uncomfortable he became. The stark contrast between his admiration for the master and Lucian's calm demeanor left him feeling uneasy, hands tightening into fists as he regretted the moment. Gideon, unaware of Halberd’s inner turmoil, waved dismissively for everyone else to leave. Uninterested in his sword practice, he lounged under a tree, his raven-black hair cascading over his shoulders, fingers clasping a teacup like fine porcelain. Halberd felt he had disappointed the master, his throat tightening in a wave of despondency, and quietly withdrew. With soft footsteps retreating, the door slowly closed behind him. Lucian Stormbringer relaxed his brow slightly. “Master, you haven’t left the premises today.” He could see right through Gideon Everwind’s stillness. Gideon paused, his hand on the teacup, contemplating Lucian’s discernment that seemed almost dog-like. He preferred silence and changed the subject, “What brings you here today?” Lucian didn’t mention the events of the previous night, and Gideon took it as an indication that he had forgotten. Now, only they remained in Snowcrane Abbey. As Gideon glanced at him with an aloof expression, Lucian suddenly announced, “There’s no hurry concerning Junxia’s business.” “Master, your hair is disheveled. May I arrange it for you before we discuss anything further?” At his words, Gideon realized he hadn’t tied up his hair today. He furrowed his brow, about to decline, but Lucian had already stepped forward. Before he could fully awaken his memories, Lucian had groomed him many times in this manner. In the Order of Pure Light, it was a sign of respect among disciples to honor their elders by tying their hair, a common practice he previously saw no issue with. Yet after what had happened last night, it felt a bit different. Lucian said little else. He deftly conjured a jade comb and dew from the snow and stepped closer to Gideon. The cool strands of hair were gently gathered in his hands, everything feeling as it should. Seeing this, Gideon decided against protesting further. He closed his eyes slightly. Lucian expertly maneuvered the comb, moving with practiced precision. In no time, Gideon's hair, which had been cascading loose, was neatly secured with a jade crown. He rarely removed his mask, which concealed features that were striking in an intimidating way—only Lucian truly understood the visage hidden beneath.
Chapter 4
Only he had ever seen that face. Lost in thought, Gideon Everwind suddenly heard a voice ask, “How has your training been these past few days?” His mentor hadn’t paid attention to him in a long time. After all, he was still a young man. Lucian Stormbringer startled, then a barely perceptible hint of joy crossed his face. “I’ve made breakthroughs recently.” The courtyard was quiet. Gideon slowly opened his eyes from his meditation. “If you've truly made breakthroughs, then it's time for you to descend the mountain and gain some real-world experience,” he declared. The moment those words left his lips, the subtle intimacy between them shattered. Lucian's fingers froze, and he slowly lowered his gaze, unable to utter the words he had prepared. --- By the time Lucian left, evening had settled in. Gideon no longer focused on his affairs. Once he stood, he prepared to practice swordsmanship at Coldwater Pool. He bore the weight of past injuries, so it was crucial not to overextend himself during training. He also needed to soak in the Coldwater Pool to alleviate his discomfort. An hour later, back from practicing, a light sheen of sweat covered Gideon's brow, prompting him to pause. He was born with little desire; the only thing that truly sparked his interest was swordsmanship. Since sustaining his injury a decade ago, fatigue plagued his body. He could only spare a brief period each day to train. Sweat beads trickled down from his forehead. Wiping his brow, he found himself sitting idly, drifting into other thoughts. The look on Lucian Stormbringer's face as he departed lingered in his mind, yet Gideon felt nothing in response. He never had an interest in romance; those fleeting notions of white moonlight and desire were things he wished to sidestep. He also preferred not to get entangled in the love interests with the praised protagonists of his story. It would be better to cut ties sooner rather than later. Lost in reflection, time slipped away. “My Lord, the hot wine at Coldwater Pool is ready,” chimed a voice from outside. Gideon sheathed his sword, lifting his head to respond faintly. Coldwater Pool was merely a short distance from Gideon’s dwelling. At the Skyfall Summit, he was the only resident, so he simply shed his outer garments, taking no precautions. The Page set down the items before retreating. Gideon pressed his lips together. He let the icy waters of Coldwater Pool envelop his body. This pool, fed by the extreme waters, was only tolerable for those with fire injuries; any ordinary person would find it unbearable. A chill enveloped his fingertips, but Gideon remained unfazed. Only when the cold became unbearable, and his lips turned pale, did he slowly reach for the hot wine the Page had prepared. He grasped the pale-green cup in his hand, a twinge of irritation darting through his brow. Just as he was about to sip, his expression shifted abruptly. With a momentary pause, he raised his gaze and flung the cup like a projectile. He didn’t hold back. From the trees came a yelp. A figure in a tattered green robe, a Fae Kin, was struck by the cup directly. “What the hell?” came a voice, laced with irritation, as the figure pushed through the thicket. Gideon furrowed his brow, surprised to see Fiona Ashwood, a love interest from the New Squire’s roster whom he had recently taken note of. What was she doing here? Fiona was originally a peacock. Her appearance was exotic and striking, known as a beauty with charm, although her mind seemed lacking at times. Due to her training techniques, she occasionally regressed, leading her to venture out for companionship. That’s how she had encountered the protagonist. Gideon observed her, realizing this was merely a fraction of the slumbering Fae King. Fiona had come to this secluded Coldwater Pool, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lucian Stormbringer bathing. Yet she found herself instead confronting a masked stranger. She had been granted one moment to verify her mistake before being abruptly hit on the head, nearly bruising herself. Fiona was notorious for her vanity, and this was the first time someone had dared strike her. Wincing as she pressed a hand to her forehead, the anger on her enchanting visage was palpable. “You scoundrel, who are you? What are you doing here?” she demanded. Before Gideon could respond, realization seemed to strike her. “Wait, you were the one who hit me,” she exclaimed in disbelief. Gideon stood there, unfazed. It appeared the tales about her mental agility weren’t exaggerated. If he recalled correctly, this Skyfall Summit was indeed his domain. Why shouldn’t he be here? He frowned slightly, cast a glance at her, then returned his focus back, too lazy to engage. Fiona’s frustration spiked. What nerve this scoundrel had, shrugging her off with such indifference. His disregard ignited a fire within her, causing her to retort, “What do you mean by that look?” Gideon could only think, “A look of seeing a fool.” Truly, the avian kin were tiresome. He was already not in the best mood, and the presence of this meddlesome intrusion was nearing his limit. When he saw the peacock readying to make an ill-advised remark, Gideon finally snapped, his expression darkening. “Shut up.” “Y—,” Fiona stumbled on her words, suddenly realizing she could no longer speak. Wait… A look of shock flickered in her bird-like eyes as she clutched her throat in disbelief. Finally, quiet settled around them. Gideon had no interest in bathing in front of others; now that he was disturbed, his desire waned further. He rose from the water. The splash echoed as Fiona’s gaze drifted involuntarily towards him, watching as a large cloak enveloped the man swiftly. His dark hair clung to his skin, while a jade crown hung delicately atop him, the white robe flowing unnaturally. Noting the green-feathered peacock’s alerted expression, prepared to speak again, he turned back slightly to regard her, issuing one last warning: “Speak again, and I will end you.”
Chapter 5
The air around them crackled with tension as Gideon Everwind regarded the agitated figure before him. The once arrogant Fiona Ashwood now bore a semblance of humility, realizing they were no longer in the Fae Realm, but in the revered Sanctum of Pure Light, home to the Order of Mystic Arts. This was not a place to showcase bravado; it was a sanctuary where the most powerful beings resided. Gideon had the upper hand, significantly more powerful than Fiona, which fueled the latter’s frustration. Fiona glared at Gideon, clenching his fists. The curse binding his voice rendered him speechless, only heightening his ire. He couldn't bear the thought of admitting defeat or being subdued so easily. The Fae Kin, draped in vibrant blue, exhibited a flash of bewildered anger. After reigning as the Fae King for so long, Fiona had grown accustomed to unconditional admiration—one notable exception being Lucian Stormbringer. Yet here, in the Sanctum, he faced an unexpected rival. Gideon’s expression darkened. Even if his opponent was stronger, Fiona felt compelled to stand his ground rather than back down. “Who are you?” he managed to blurt out, finally finding the strength to momentarily lift the restraining spell over his throat. His words tumbled out too quickly, the stammering giving away more weakness than he intended. Great, just great… he thought, frustrated with himself. Not wanting to show vulnerability, he braced himself, pondering whether Gideon would see through his façade. But Gideon remained unfazed, the muted response only making him appear more intimidating. The gossamer mask Gideon wore reflected the moonlight, emanating an otherworldly chill, growing even more unsettling. Fiona’s heart raced as he felt the urgency of the moment. Wait… is he actually going to attack? Fiona thought, his mind swirling with doubt, attempting to reassure himself. After all, the Sanctum of Pure Light was a bastion of righteousness—surely they wouldn’t have someone reckless enough to initiate a fight here. Before he could cement this comforting belief, Gideon studied him intently, and without a moment’s notice, Fiona found himself ensnared by a blade of energy that felt like ice coursing through his veins. “Hey!” Fiona yelped as he was swiftly dispatched, rolling down the hillside. As he tumbled, the ground fell away beneath him, and soon he disappeared from Gideon’s sight. Once Fiona was out of view, Gideon allowed himself a fractional smile, pleased with his decisive action. The frustration disguised as charm that Fiona had exuded just moments before now lay in shambles. Gideon shook his head, dismissing any lingering annoyance. He glanced toward the summit, contemplating how easily someone had weaved their way into this sacred ground. The protective boundary around Coldwater Pool felt weaker than expected, prompting him to raise it anew, reinforcing the layers of energy surrounding the area before turning his attention away from the chaos. Inside the sanctuary, The Page diligently fanned the air. Upon seeing Gideon’s return, his brows knitted with confusion. “Lord Reginald, you’re back earlier than usual today,” he observed, noting how their leader typically lingered for hours at Coldwater Pool, enjoying its tranquil ambiance until the moon reached its zenith. Gideon gave a terse glance in his direction, his tone dismissive. “I wasn’t in the mood for soaking today.” He withheld the tale of the unexpected encounter with the thunderous presence of defiance that had intruded upon his day.
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