The sound of the bronze bell rang from the highest tower of the imperial palace, lingering and reverberating, echoing across the gray-blue sky. The atmosphere in the main hall today was so solemn that even the palace maids and eunuchs who were familiar with the etiquette did not dare to breathe loudly.

Hundreds of eyes focused on the jade throne, inlaid with gold and silver and studded with sparkling gems. That throne, according to tradition, would be given to the legitimate heir – the second prince of the empire: Lac Thien.

He stood there, his black hair falling naturally over his shoulders, his face bright but unpredictable, his gray-silver eyes like a deep lake reflecting the flames of the magic circle around the palace. He wore a purple cloak – the symbol of the imperial family – embroidered with the pattern of a spreading eagle.

Everyone waited. The atmosphere seemed frozen.

At that moment, the young man suddenly stepped down from the stairs, a faint smile appeared on his lips, his voice rang out like a thunderclap:

"I, Lac Thien, renounce the right to the throne, hereby declare my abdication."

The entire hall exploded.

The noise and commotion filled the place. The nobles' faces turned pale, the ministers were stunned, and the soldiers guarding both sides of the aisle were stunned, not daring to move.

"You... what did you just say?" The voice of the emperor, the most powerful man on the continent, resounded with anger. He sat on the throne, his heavy dragon robe emitting a faint light from the magic array inlaid in each golden thread. His eyes were blazing, staring straight at his son standing before him.

Lac Thien did not dodge, his gaze was calm, even shining with a hint of amusement. He shrugged, replying as if stating the obvious:

"I said, I renounce the throne. It doesn't suit me."

Cold gasps echoed everywhere.

An old minister trembled and stood up:

"Your Highness! Do you know what you are saying? This is the throne – the responsibility of the royal bloodline, the mission of the entire empire!"

Others whispered:

"He's crazy... he's really crazy!"

"A person who gives up the throne, how can he face the world?"

Below, Lac Thien, the eldest prince, the corners of his lips curled into a sinister smile. All those years of waiting, scheming, jealousy... had finally come to naught, because his opponent had voluntarily retreated. In Luo Ming's eyes, there was a glee that he didn't bother to hide.

"What a useless thing." He muttered softly, enough for the people around him to hear and nod.

On the throne, the emperor clenched the armrests, the magical aura spreading out made the entire palace tremble. "Lac Thiên, do you understand the consequences of this decision? Giving up the throne means cutting off your own path to life. You will only be an outcast, living a miserable life in this world!"

But Lac Thien only smiled, his eyes sparkling with a trace of freedom that nothing could restrain.

"Consequences? I don't care. The throne is just a heavy chair, binding the person sitting on it. I don't want to live like a golden puppet. The world out there is much larger."

A moment of silence fell.

Then a contemptuous laugh rang out from the noble seats:

"Ha! Did you hear that? He's afraid of responsibility, so he came up with a flowery excuse!"

"If he doesn't want to be compared to the Crown Prince, then forget it, and come up with a philosophy of freedom!"

"History will remember him as a coward who ran away."

Lac Thien turned his head to look at those people, the corners of his lips curled into a careless smile. He didn't bother to explain. In his eyes, all those words of criticism were like the barking of dogs on the roadside.

The emperor roared: "From now on, you are no longer qualified as a prince! Strip all your rights, leave this palace immediately!"

That night.

In front of the eastern gate, a small carriage was waiting. But Lac Thien did not get in. He stood alone in the silver moonlight, wearing a simple gray cloak instead of silk brocade, his luggage consisted only of a small cloth bag and the old book he always carried.

Behind him was a bright palace, majestic like a golden mountain. How many people dreamed of entering it, but he gave up without regret.

"What a relief." He raised his head to look at the night sky, sighing softly. "I finally escaped that golden cage."

In the cloth bag, the ancient book was revealed. The leather cover was discolored, the stitches were frayed. This was the only keepsake his mother left behind, hidden away in the old study. No one in the palace knew what it was, but every time he opened it, he felt as if his soul was moved.

His fingers ran over the ancient characters, and he muttered, "Perhaps... this is my path."

A night wind blew by, flipping the pages of the book. The letters suddenly flashed faintly, as if responding to the only person who could understand them.

Lac Thien eyes suddenly deepened. He chuckled softly.

"Then... the game has just begun."

No throne, no court, no constraints. Just him, a strange book, and the vast world out there.

The one the world called the cowardly prince, from that moment on, had stepped onto the path of becoming a genius that would astonish the entire continent.

The eastern gate opened, the heavy iron chains creaked. Since early morning, caravans of merchants had been marching out of the imperial capital, the sound of wheels rolling on stone mixed with the neighing of horses. People were bustling about, but no one paid attention to a young man in a grey cloak walking leisurely among the crowd.

No servants, no attendants, no golden carriage. Only Lac Thien - the former prince who had shocked the entire court with his abdication announcement.

A few people recognized him, their eyes both curious and mocking. Some whispered to each other:

"Isn't that the second prince?"

"Ha, what prince? He's already given up. Now he's just a commoner."

"What an idiot. If I were to sit on the throne, I wouldn't let go even if I died."

Lac Thien heard everything, but he didn't pay any attention. The corners of his lips curved into a faint smile, and his steps didn't stop. In his heart, those words were like the wind passing by his ears.

The stone avenue stretched from the city gate to the vast plains. In the distance, dark forests covered the horizon. There were no more solid walls, no more dazzling magical lights of the palace, no more luxurious life of the capital. Before his eyes was now a vast, wild and dangerous world.

A cool breeze blew by, carrying the scent of damp earth and grass. Lac Thien took a deep breath, his eyes shining:

"This is the air of freedom."

He turned onto a small path leading south. The road was narrow, rocky, and rarely traveled. The old map in his hand – taken from the study – showed that this path led to the border, where there was a town called Grendale, famous for being a gathering place for wandering merchants and mages. An ideal place to start a new journey.

The afternoon fell.

The road gradually became quiet, only the sound of the wind whistling through the trees remained. Lac Thien walked leisurely, his hand gently stroking the old book in its cloth cover. All day long, he had never taken his eyes off it for too long.

He tried to open a page, the ancient characters still dancing under his eyes, glowing faintly as if whispering. But no matter how attentive he was, he still couldn't understand the meaning.

"What are you hiding?" He whispered to the book, half joking, half curious.

At that moment, a soft sound rang out behind him.

Whoosh!

An arrow was stabbed straight into the ground, just a few inches away from his feet.

"Stand still, don't move!"

A hoarse man's voice rang out from the bushes. Several figures appeared, surrounding him. They wore tattered cloaks, their faces covered with scarves, and in their hands were daggers and iron rods. Bandits.

The leader squinted at him:

"Haha, how lucky. A lone traveler. Quickly hand over your luggage, and... that thing." He pointed at the book in Luo Tian's hand, his voice greedy.

Lac Thien raised his eyebrows, the corners of his lips curled into a smile.

"Oh, you guys are targeting the wrong person."

The robbers laughed contemptuously.

"Looking at you dressed like that, you must be a rich young master who just ran away."

"Don't waste your words, kill him and take everything!"

They rushed forward.

In the eyes of outsiders, Lac Thien was just an empty-handed young man. But as soon as the knife tip grazed, he raised his hand slightly.

Boom!

An invisible stream of air exploded, sending the first robber flying away like a leaf. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

The whole group was stunned.

"Magic?!"

"No... impossible, he didn't chant..."

Indeed, Lac Thien didn't recite the incantation, nor did he draw the magic array. The magic power flowed out from him as naturally as breathing. He turned his wrist slightly, his eyes sparkling in the evening light:

"I was thinking of finding someone to test it out. You guys showed up just in time."

The bandits trembled, but still rushed forward desperately.

Only to see Lac Thien wave his hand slightly. Waves of magic power shot out like waves, sending them flying one after another. In the blink of an eye, the group of more than ten people were lying around, groaning and unable to get up.

He brushed his hand off, smiling faintly:

"Well, the effect is okay."

As he was about to leave, the book in his hand suddenly shone brighter. An ancient character appeared clearly, floating before his eyes, then carved straight into the air, transforming into a line of text in a language he could understand:

"The chosen one – the one who abandoned the throne – will open the door to ancient magic."

The light suddenly went out, the book was silent again.

Lac Thien was stunned, then laughed out loud.

"How interesting. So you chose me."

He put the book back in his shirt, his eyes shining with excitement. In the distance, the scattered lights of Grendale town began to appear in the night.

His footsteps were light but decisive, as if the whole world was waiting for him to explore.