TaiYu Island rose from the seas like the curled claw of a dragon clutching the sky — sharp cliffs etched with veins of jade and black stone, wrapped in mist and the cry of seabirds. The island's heart was an ancient fortress of coral and granite, built to withstand tempests and kingdoms alike. Its ruler, Liang JianGun, stood atop the highest tower, gazing beyond the churning waves, as if reading the pulse of the ocean itself.
His eyes burned with a fierce amber light flecked with jade, like molten gold stirred with emerald fire. His tall figure was draped in deep indigo robes embroidered with swirling dragons chasing flaming pearls — symbols of power and eternal vigilance. Black hair fell in a river behind him, tied with a clasp carved from the bones of a primordial dragon, a relic passed down through generations.
Yet, he was not born a sovereign.
Liang JianGun's story began far humbler, beneath the bruised skies of DongNan Guo, in the sprawling swamplands where fishermen's huts leaned precariously over waterlogged earth and rice paddies stretched to the horizon like endless emerald waves. He was the son of a forgotten family, one without wealth or name, carrying the bloodline of a once-glorious, now dormant dragon.
His Dragon Gen was modest in power but fierce in spirit — the Green Dragon Gen, a spirit dragon coiling elegantly within his soul like a living jade ribbon. It was said that the green dragon represented growth, vitality, and the spring tides of renewal, but among those who wielded the thunderous roar of Red Dragons or the icy wrath of White Celestial Dragons, it was dismissed as weak and unremarkable.
For years, Liang JianGun bore the laughter and sneers of fellow disciples, their voices like claws tearing at his resolve.
"Green dragon? More like a jade snake," they mocked, "a dragon too soft to burn or break."
But in silence, beneath the cold light of moon and star, Liang nurtured his spirit. While others trained with pride and fury, he retreated to the ancient sea caves carved into cliffs along the southern shores, places whispered about only in legends. The caves were a sacred trial: where the sea's crushing pressure bent bones and where fierce currents tore away weaker wills.
There, he immersed himself in the sacred elements of the dragon — saltwater, storm, and lightning. He bathed in the Monsoons of Thunder Tide, where jagged bolts split skies and the sea foamed like liquid silver. He swallowed bitter seaweed venom and wrestled with iron-scaled leviathans, until his body became as resilient as coral and his mind as fluid as the tide.
Then came the ultimate trial — the Immortality Tribulation — a celestial reckoning of blood and spirit. In the ancient scriptures, it was said the heavens would rain down lightning to test the worthiness of a cultivator on the cusp of transcendence.
But the heavens had other plans.
Liang JianGun was cast into the form of a lowly carp — not a dragon, not a beast of legend, but a small, fragile fish in a vast, merciless sea. He found himself beneath the roaring waterfall known as the Dragon Gate — a torrent of divine flame, believed to have been carved from the claws of Zhu Rong, the God of Fire himself. It was said only a carp bold enough to leap through the searing cascade would ascend beyond mortality and be reborn as a true Sea Dragon, bearer of immortal power.
He tried to leap.
And time and again, he failed.
The flames seared his scales until they cracked and bled. The torrent slammed him into jagged stones; the roaring water drowned his spirit. Around him, the souls of fallen cultivators drifted in watery limbo, whispering despair and urging surrender. The pain was unbearable. His body shattered like glass, his spirit torn to tatters.
But beneath the drowning agony, a burning defiance flared.
He remembered every sneer from his youth. He remembered the gentle hands of his mother, who once served lotus broth to ease his hunger. He remembered the green dragon that had coiled faithfully in his blood since birth, waiting for its time.
With every shattered scale, every desperate gasp, Liang JianGun summoned a roar — not of a dragon, but of a carp refusing to be devoured by fate.
One final, agonizing leap, and he broke through the blazing Dragon Gate.
The heavens shattered into fragments of crimson and sapphire light, and fire rained down like a blessing. His spirit was consumed, then remade.
Where once was a Green Dragon, now wrapped in flames and tide, rose the Crimson Sea Dragon — a great dragon of blood-red scales shimmering with golden light, a flowing mane of molten gold streaming behind him like the crest of a storm wave. His roar shook the heavens, calling storms and tides to his command.
Liang JianGun was no longer a man. He was a force of the sea and sky, a living legend born from fire and water.
Years later, TaiYu Island was his domain — a bastion forged in dragon's breath and tempest winds. The Ocean Mirror Hall stood tall, its walls carved from enchanted coral that reflected moonlight in shifting colors like scales glistening in the sun. Inside, his most trusted generals waited, clad in armor plated with iridescent dragon scales, their necks bearing pendants of claw-shaped jade — the mark of those sworn to the Sea Dragon's will.
Liang JianGun moved through them with the grace of a tidal wave, each step measured and commanding. His voice was low and calm but carried the weight of ancient storms.
"Generals," he began, unfurling a scroll sealed with the emblem of Jin Lun, strategist of the Northern Defense Alliance, "I have received troubling news. The Shun Association has fallen into an unnatural silence. Their quiet is louder than any warcry."
Murmurs rippled through the hall.
The Shun Association was not a mere trade guild. Their tendrils reached deep into the politics and black markets of DongNan Guo — merchants, spies, assassins all under one shadowed banner.
Commander Bei, a veteran warrior whose face bore the map of countless battles, stepped forward. "Your Excellency, shall we sound the Dragon Beacons? Summon the fleets and prepare for war?"
Liang JianGun shook his head, his golden mane flickering with a faint flame in the twilight.
"No. If we reveal our suspicion, they will scatter like sea mist before the dawn. Instead, you will lead the Tidebreaker Unit to Gold Star Military Base in DongNan Guo. Set up a command post under the pretense of joint drills. Monitor every breath signature, every mutation trace, and every shipment that passes through."
He let his gaze cut through the generals like a spear.
"If any shadow wears the silk of Shun, you will find them and report to me immediately. The ocean's depths hide many dangers, but none are allowed to poison our seas."
The generals bowed deeply, their jade pendants glowing faintly as if alive with the Sea Dragon's heartbeat.
As they prepared to depart, Liang JianGun turned to the balcony, overlooking the restless, roaring ocean. The waves curled and crashed like ancient dragons awakening from slumber.
His voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible above the wind.
"If they dare stir the depths again, they will awaken more than just me."
Beneath the crimson horizon, the sea roared in answer.