Northern frontier, deep within the plains.

A small squad of riders galloped at full speed like a pack of frost wolves, crossing the vast expanse of land and penetrating multiple defensive lines belonging to both Western Jin and Northern Liao. They were pressing northward.

Late one night several days later, dozens of figures crept toward a magnificent golden tent, unnoticed by the tens of thousands of Liao riders stationed outside. They suddenly stormed into the tent and pounced on a tall, fat, but strong man sleeping among a dozen or so women.

It wasn’t until a blade had pierced his body that the man awoke from his hangover, but it was already too late.

Moments later, a blood-soaked youngster emerged from the golden tent holding a severed head. He raised his head and howled at the full moon. As boundless power surged within him, he transformed into a colossal wolf a thousand zhang in length!

The giant wolf leaped into the air, soaring upward and charging straight into the full moon. To everyone’s astonishment, a distinct silver rim appeared around the moon in the sky!

The youngster’s howls grew ever louder and carried farther until they echoed across 1,000 li. And so every tribe on the western slopes of the Sacred Mountain knew that their Great Khan had returned once more from the realm of the dead!

By the time the youngster stopped his long howl, the ground around him was already filled with kneeling tribesmen. He entered the golden tent once more, rummaged through the collections of the usurping fake Khan, and finally unearthed a skull inlaid with countless treasures. The skull was nearly transparent, and inside, a tiny true dragon...