The Southern Adventure of Noe and Friends

  The world is a vast cycle of decay, destruction, and rebirth—reaching the pinnacle of development only to crumble once more. The land of Mu (the Motherland) was no exception. It once stood at the height of civilization, a beacon of progress that every kingdom and territory envied. Envoys were dispatched from across the globe to study and mimic its ways. This was known as the Golden Age, or the Millennium of Peace. But all things that reach their zenith must eventually decline; the unified land fractured, dissolving into countless smaller territories.

  Some praised that era of peace, longing for the day it might return. Others, however, loathed it with a passion, branding it the "Thousand Years of Darkness." To them, it was an age of stifling bureaucracy and ever-increasing laws that made life unbearable. People lived like slaves—slaves to the state, to organizations, and to their own families—without a shred of true freedom. When that dark age finally ended and the old rules were cast aside, the world changed. This new era was called the Age of Enlightenment: a time of greater liberty and happiness.

  The Enlightenment lasted for four hundred years, a period notably devoid of new Prophets. The land existed without guidance from above. People did as they pleased, and the Heavenly Dao—the silent engine of the world—remained quiet for centuries, rarely intervening or offering direction. It was as if the universe were granting the era’s prayers for absolute freedom.

  But this past century has been different. Prophets have abruptly begun appearing everywhere. As excessive freedom birthed excessive chaos, the cries of the people stirred the Heavenly Dao back into action. It grows stronger by the day, seeking to restore balance and justice to the world once more.

  Han Thuong, a General of the Hoang Long Quoc (Golden dragon Kingdom), had reached a turning point. After making a momentous decision, he sought an audience with King Doanh Thuong Quan to resign. He was weary; years of relentless warfare against the B?ch Lang Qu?c (White Wolf Kingdom) to the west had taken their toll.

  Initially, the King refused. His eyes betrayed a sense of regret at the thought of losing such a talent—a pillar of the imperial court. But Han Thuong remained resolute. His voice was calm yet firm, his gaze fixed on a distant horizon, reflecting a deep exhaustion with military life and a yearning for something more profound. Sensing this unshakeable will, the King finally granted his leave. It was, after all, a time of relative peace, and the departure of one general would not tip the scales of the world.

  Before Han Thuong departed, the King presented him with a special gift: a Flying Wooden Dragon. This magnificent mechanical artifact was a flying vessel intricately carved with the head, talons, wings, and tail of a dragon. The King knew Han Thuong intended to find and assist Noe—an Elf with snow-white skin and hair, a Prophet, and the King’s own mentor. He hoped this gift would aid them both. The technology used to create the Flying Wooden Dragon was said to be modeled after the airships of the Immortal Race, though it was less powerful. It could only fly at low altitudes—usually around 300 meters and never exceeding 1,000 meters—and required a significant amount of Spirit Stones to operate.

  At first, Han Thuong declined, uncomfortable with such an extravagant favor. But the King, eager to support his teacher Noe, insisted. Eventually, Han Thuong accepted, feeling a quiet gratitude toward his sovereign.

  With the Flying Wooden Dragon, Han Thuong’s journey became swift and seamless. The wooden beast could soar through the air like a giant bird, the wind whistling past its hull while the faint scent of pine radiated from its casing. When crossing rivers or lakes, it could transform into a sturdy boat, gliding smoothly over the water. Most impressively, it could shift into an "Earth Dragon" mode, galloping across dry land or even tunneling through the soil with powerful wooden strides. This versatility allowed Han Thuong to bypass any terrain; where local sects forbade flying, he simply sailed or walked.

  He searched every familiar haunt for Noe: the city governed by Doan Chinh (another of Noe’s pupils), Ghost Valley Village, and the Immortal Mountain where they once worked. Along the way, he reunited with old friends, sharing laughter and nostalgic sighs over tea, before pressing on with his singular mission.

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  When he encountered Vong Tran (the Celestial Master), Han Thuong invited him to join the quest. Vong Tran politely declined with a shake of his head. "I have a family now, Brother Han," he said, his face a mix of regret and duty. "The responsibility of the clan and training new masters weighs heavy on my shoulders. I cannot go wandering like you two." He added sincerely, "But if you ever truly need me, just call. I am always at your service."

  Continuing his journey, Han Thuong found Bach Ho, a tiger-headed beastman with a massive frame and wild, sharp eyes. Finding him at a loose end, Han Thuong invited him along. Bach Ho grinned with excitement, his eyes gleaming at the prospect of a new adventure. Later, in a cultivation city, they recruited Tho Trung Sa.

  The group searched everywhere, but Noe was nowhere to be found. Just as disappointment began to set in, they decided to wait at Noe’s Spirit Beast Garden on the Immortal Mountain. There, they reminisced about past adventures—dangerous exploits from the heavens to the underworld that could have claimed their lives. It was only because of Noe that they had survived and flourished, reaching the Foundation Establishment (Rank B) stage. To them, Noe was the indispensable heart of the team.

  Months later, Noe finally returned. As usual, he seemed aimless, wandering with a dreamy gaze as if searching for inspiration. He showed little interest in embarking on a new adventure, his face etched with indifference. However, when Han Thuong mentioned that this was a suggestion from the Grand State Preceptor of the Chau Ngoc Nation—a mission Noe was destined to complete in the South—Noe finally relented, albeit reluctantly. As a Prophet, Noe could see the futures of others, yet he suffered from a peculiar flaw: he could never foresee his own.

  The moment word spread that Noe was leaving, the Spirit Beasts in the garden went into an uproar. Howls, roars, and cries filled the forest. They pleaded and badgered Noe until his head throbbed. Some grew bold, climbing onto his head and shoulders, their thick fur rubbing against his face, refusing to budge unless they were included. Noe had the gift of understanding animal speech, but with so many shouting at once, it was nothing but a wall of noise.

  Even the Halflings—the caretakers of the garden who stood only 1.2 meters tall—joined the fray. They tugged at Noe’s clothes, whining and demanding to go. They were bored of their quiet lives and craved the world outside.

  After a "disastrous" struggle with the rowdy crowd, Noe surrendered with a heavy sigh. He agreed to let them come, but only the strongest. A tournament was promptly held to decide who would go. The garden shook with the sound of competition and the cheers of Halflings.

  In the end, Sam the Halfling (riding a 2.7m Black Spirit Chicken) and Merry the Halfling (riding a 2.5m White Spirit Chicken) emerged victorious. Other beasts refused to be left behind and hitched rides with the party members.

  Tho Trung Sa took in a unique Eight-Legged Sand Lizard with shimmering skin that could shrink to the size of a palm or grow to six meters long.

  Bach Ho adopted a small Spirit Whale Fish that could swim through the air, though it was still too young to possess any real power.

  Han Thuong already had his Nine-Eared Spirit Hound, but he picked up a tiny M?c Linh (Wood Spirit)—a small, talking plant that could only say the word "Wood." It sat snugly in his pocket but possessed a very specific skill: lockpicking.

  Noe, seeking at least a little peace, refused to take any beast for himself.

  With the party settled, they boarded the Flying Wooden Dragon and headed South. The air was filled with the laughter of Halflings and the cries of beasts tasting freedom for the first time in years. Occasionally, Sam and Merry would break off to practice flying with their giant chickens. Tho Trung Sa tested his lizard's speed; it was as fast as a wind-cutting arrow in short bursts, though it lacked endurance for the long haul.

  As they ventured further south into the Nam Man Kingdom, the people they encountered became increasingly strange. They saw the Ancient Tribe, giants standing five meters tall with six fingers and toes, who hunted elephants with their bare hands. They saw a race smaller than Halflings, barely 0.5 meters tall, moving like tiny ghosts. There were even people with arms so long they brushed the grass as they walked, the scent of damp earth following in their wake.

  Bach Ho turned to Han Thuong and asked, "Where exactly are we headed this time? Why do we keep pressing so far South?"

  "I plan to reach the Moon Kingdom of the Immortal Race," Han Thuong replied. "Hoa Minh sent us an invitation."

  Bach Ho let out a long sigh, his expression darkening. "I don’t like that place. They have no respect for Beastfolk; they look down on us as if we’re nothing more than pets."

  Han Thuong chuckled and gave him a reassuring look. "Have you ever actually set foot inside their kingdom? It’s truly beautiful. Besides, we’re on an adventure—you’ll have to endure a little discomfort for the sake of the journey."

  "Fine," Bach Ho grunted. "I'll bear with it."