The wind whispered through the Bamboo Sea, its voice laced with foreboding. Xiang Tian stood at the cliff's edge, the horizon painted in hues of scarlet and silver, as dawn's light broke through storm-laden skies. The ground beneath his feet pulsed faintly, a subtle tremor resonating with the buried ley lines—ancient veins of spiritual energy that fed the hidden realms.
He had just returned from the Forbidden Depths, the realm where Heaven's chains could not reach, and the air clung to him with the scent of sulfur and blood. His robes, once pristine white, were tattered, soaked in the remnants of battle. The celestial seal on his wrist dimmed, flickering like a candle in the wind, suppressing the power he had yet to master.
Behind him, Elder Mo Yun approached silently. The old man's presence bent the spiritual pressure in the air, yet Xiang Tian stood unmoved.
"You returned alive," Mo Yun said, his voice low and grim. "Did you find it?"
Xiang Tian opened his hand. Floating above his palm was a jade orb, cracked but pulsating with a golden light.
"The Heart of Primordial Flame," he replied. "But the guardians have awakened. The old world stirs again."
Mo Yun's face hardened. "The Five Great Sects will not take kindly to this. They sealed the Primordial Vault for a reason."
"And now they will pay for sealing away power that was never theirs to contain," Xiang Tian said, turning to face him fully. "The Heavens denied me justice. I will carve a new path with my blade and my wrath."
He had changed. The naive boy who once knelt in the Rain Lotus Pavilion, begging for the elders to spare his mother, was gone. In his place stood a man forged in blood, betrayal, and cosmic fire.
---
Far across the Skyreach Mountains, in the chambers of the Starfall Sect, the High Elders gathered. A scrying mirror flickered with the image of Xiang Tian.
Elder Lu, with his silver beard braided in the ancient style, narrowed his eyes. "He retrieved the Heart. That means he entered the Forbidden Depths and survived."
"Impossible," spat Elder Yue. "The seal placed on him should have suppressed his cultivation."
"It did," Elder Lu said grimly. "Which means he evolved beyond it. Something ancient stirs within him."
At the head of the table, the Sect Master, Tianxuan, remained silent. His eyes glowed faintly with a trace of divination.
"The stars no longer chart his fate," he said finally. "He walks the path of the Tyrant Star."
Gasps echoed in the chamber. The Tyrant Star—the celestial omen tied to the fall of dynasties and the rise of chaos. It had last appeared over five thousand years ago, when the Immortal Empire shattered.
---
In a secluded cavern below the Bamboo Sea, Xiang Tian stood before a sealed stone altar. Runes pulsed along its surface, reacting to the orb in his hand.
With a chant from the Primordial Tongue, he placed the Heart upon the altar. Light surged forth, illuminating etchings of forgotten gods, beasts, and monarchs. The spirit of the flame answered his call—an ancient entity known as Yanluo, once worshiped as the Flame Sovereign.
"You are not the one chosen by the pact," rumbled a voice from the fire. "Yet you bear the mark of calamity."
"I do not need your blessing," Xiang Tian replied, his voice steady. "Only your power."
The flames roared with laughter, then transformed into a phoenix of blue fire. It launched itself toward him. Xiang Tian did not flinch. As the flames engulfed him, his skin began to crack, glowing with molten veins of spiritual energy. He screamed—but not in pain. It was a scream of rebirth.
When the fire faded, he stood reborn—his aura burning with the signature of the Flame Sovereign's inheritance. His cultivation soared through the fifth and sixth levels of the Nascent Soul Realm, settling at the edge of the seventh.
---
Back in the world of men, rumors spread like wildfire. The abandoned disciple had returned. The one who once knelt in chains, cast aside by the sect, now walked with a god's fire in his veins. He slew a sect elder from the Green Lotus Pavilion with a single blow. He shattered a Heaven-grade artifact with his bare hands.
But his enemies were not idle.
In the Nightshade Swamp, an envoy of the Divine Mirror Sect met with an assassin whose name was only spoken in hushed tones: Hei Yao.
"He walks the path of the Tyrant Star," the envoy said. "We cannot allow him to unite the forbidden legacies."
Hei Yao smiled beneath his hood, twin blades humming with cursed qi. "Then I shall walk his path in blood and cut his star from the sky."
---
Three days later, in the city of Cloudveil, Xiang Tian arrived wearing a plain robe, his face hidden behind a bamboo hat. He passed through the gates unnoticed, but the moment he stepped into the Spirit Market, the spiritual arrays in the area flared. A masked cultivator launched an ambush, talismans flying like comets.
Xiang Tian's footwork blurred. In a single move, he slipped behind the attacker, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him through three stone pillars. The crowd scattered in panic.
"I come for the auction," Xiang Tian said coldly, throwing a spirit crystal to the merchant. "Prepare the Flame Forging Manual."
That night, he sat in the auction house's private chamber, watching as artifact after artifact was paraded before the elite. But none of it mattered—until a cage was brought forth.
Inside it sat a girl, no older than sixteen, with chains of starlight binding her limbs. Her eyes glowed silver, and her presence pulsed with dormant divinity.
The auctioneer smiled. "The last item of the night: a Starborn Maiden. Said to descend from the Celestial Veins of the Moon God Palace. Bidding starts at one hundred thousand spirit stones!"
The crowd roared, but Xiang Tian's voice silenced them.
"One million," he said, eyes fixed on the girl.
Whispers erupted.
And then came another voice, smooth and deadly: "Two million."
Xiang Tian turned. Standing in the shadows was Hei Yao.
The assassin smiled. "Come, Tyrant. Let's see if your star can shine in the dark."