The winds howled atop the shattered cliffs of the Cloudcrag Range, where storm and snow danced in violent embrace. Xiang Tian stood on the very edge of the precipice, his robe billowing like wings of a demon risen from the depths. His breath came in even cycles, despite the thin, icy air that would freeze lesser mortals to their core.
His gaze was locked on the storm beyond. A sea of lightning, dark clouds and spiritual turbulence—a trial forged by the heavens themselves. Behind him, sprawled across the frost-bitten stone, were the bloodied bodies of the Demonblood Sect disciples who had dared chase him here.
"I told them," he whispered, voice low and calm. "I told them not to follow me. The path I walk is no longer one for the faint of heart."
He lowered his hand, still slick with blood not his own. The burning ache in his veins was not from injury—it was from the third stage of the Heaven Devouring Tyrant Sutra, now ignited. Every breath pulled in raw essence from the surroundings, feeding the storm within his dantian, a vortex spinning with frightening intensity.
A groan came from behind. One of the disciples, barely alive, reached for his sword.
"I was only following orders... we had no choice," the man croaked, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth.
Xiang Tian turned slowly, eyes gleaming with violet light. "Then die knowing you followed the wrong master."
With a flick of his fingers, the very air cracked. A ripple of condensed spiritual force shot out, crushing the man's chest and silencing him forever. Xiang Tian turned back to the storm, walking forward.
The Celestial Abyss was before him now.
A scar upon the world, it was a tear between realms formed during an ancient war of gods. Legend had it that only one who could overcome the will of the heavens themselves could cross it and live. That was exactly what Xiang Tian sought to do.
But before he stepped into its heart, a voice called out from behind.
"You would face the abyss alone?" It was a woman's voice, steady and strong.
Xiang Tian didn't turn. "You've followed me for three days, Meiyu. Are you going to try and stop me too?"
Zhao Meiyu stepped forward, her white cloak already stained with the blood of foes and allies alike. She was one of the last loyal remnants of the sect—loyal not to the elders, but to him. She held no blade, only the truth in her eyes.
"You are not alone in this world, Tian. Even if the world casts you out, some still believe."
Xiang Tian finally looked at her. A flicker of emotion passed through his gaze—pain, perhaps, or gratitude too deeply buried to reach the surface.
"I can't ask you to follow me into the void. Beyond this point… I don't know what lies ahead."
Meiyu smiled softly, stepping beside him. "You never asked. I chose this path when I saw you rise above our masters. They feared your potential. I… I was inspired by it."
A moment of silence passed between them, filled only by the howl of the winds.
Then together, they stepped forward.
—
Within the Celestial Abyss
The world twisted around them the moment they passed the threshold. Space fractured like glass; colors warped. One step felt like falling, another like floating. The realm obeyed no laws of the material world.
Xiang Tian gritted his teeth, pouring spiritual energy into his core to keep his senses anchored. "This is a realm of chaos," he murmured. "It rejects structure… identity…"
Beside him, Meiyu cried out. Her body began to flicker, like a candle in wind. Xiang Tian moved instantly, pressing his palm to her back and feeding her a stream of stabilizing essence.
"Don't lose focus," he warned. "This realm doesn't kill with blades—it erodes your sense of self."
They walked for what could have been hours—or mere seconds. Time bent and coiled like a serpent in the dark. And then, suddenly, they were falling.
Crashing into an obsidian plain, Xiang Tian rose, dust and darkness clinging to him. Ahead stood a figure—no, a silhouette of flame and lightning. It wore no face, but it radiated will. Divine. Ancient.
"You seek to claim dominion over that which you do not understand," the being said. Its voice echoed within their minds, deep and layered.
"I seek to master my fate," Xiang Tian replied, standing tall.
"Then prove your soul unbreakable."
The creature raised a hand—and the abyss answered.
A torrent of memories poured into Xiang Tian's mind. Pain. Betrayal. The death of his parents. The night the Sect Lords shattered his core. Every fear and failure, relived in a blink.
He dropped to his knees, blood dripping from his nose.
But he did not yield.
With a roar, his spiritual core surged—no longer a fragile orb, but a growing star of crimson and violet. He rose, defiant. Heaven Devouring Tyrant Sutra, stage four—Annihilation Core—had awakened.
"You cannot crush what has already been broken and reforged," Xiang Tian spat.
He attacked.
His palm struck the abyssal entity, not physically—but spiritually. Their souls clashed like titans. Meiyu, too, joined in, her blade a beacon of clarity in the chaos.
The clash lasted a thousand heartbeats.
And then…
Silence.
The entity dissolved into light.
A doorway appeared, etched in gold and thunder.
They had passed.
—
Beyond the Abyss
A realm of floating palaces, endless skies, and rivers of flame and starlight stretched before them. The Celestial Realms—true heavens, spoken only in myths.
Xiang Tian stepped forward. The oppressive weight of the lower realms faded. Here, the very air hummed with divine energy.
But even as they entered, figures appeared.
Armored sentinels, wings of energy on their backs. Eyes of judgment. Weapons forged of truth and punishment.
"You who bear the Tyrant's Flame," the central figure said. "You have trespassed upon sacred ground. Surrender your soul or be extinguished."
Xiang Tian's eyes glowed like molten amethysts. "I have faced death, betrayal, gods and void. I will not kneel. Not here. Not ever."
He raised his hands.
The sky cracked.
The war for the Celestial Realms had begun.
The Celestial Mandate Stirs
The night sky over the Broken Sky Peak glimmered with a thousand stars, as if the heavens themselves were watching what transpired below. A breeze stirred the ancient trees, whispering secrets lost to time, and in the heart of the storm stood Xiang Tian—his robes billowing, his aura flaring like a solar tempest.
His eyes, now tinged with a golden hue from the awakening of his Divine Veins, reflected not fear, not doubt, but resolution—a tyrant's will forged by betrayal and refined by suffering. He stood before the fractured remains of the Heavenly Dao Monument, the seal upon its base now broken, and the divine inscriptions glowing faintly in response to his presence.
A new chapter of destiny was being carved into the world—and it bore Xiang Tian's name.
---
A Tyrant's Awakening
The fragments of the Heavenly Dao Monument spun in a slow orbit around Xiang Tian as the power he had drawn from the Primordial Soul Lotus flowed into him, merging with his spiritual sea. He could feel the transformation coursing through every inch of his being.
The veins beneath his skin lit up, forming ancient runes that pulsed with divine intent. His meridians expanded, reinforced with celestial essence. His bones cracked and reformed, now dense like starlight-forged jade. The bottleneck that had bound him to the Earth Core Realm shattered like glass.
With a single step, he crossed into the Heaven Ascension Realm.
Lightning boomed in the distance, a cosmic acknowledgment of his ascension. Yet it wasn't over. The celestial heavens stirred, recognizing the convergence of three ancient forces in his soul: the Tyrant's Will, the Heavenly Flame Root, and the Divine Veins of the Primordial King.
From above, golden threads descended—threads of fate, rewoven by the hand of a cultivator who defied the will of fate itself.
---
The Envoys Arrive
Far across the Eastern Wastes, deep within the Heavenly Imperial Court, the Archon of Stars opened his eyes, his meditation disrupted. His celestial mirror trembled violently, showing an image of Xiang Tian standing in a field of broken stone and burning lotus petals.
"So it begins," the Archon murmured. "The one who defies fate... has awakened."
Envoys were dispatched across the realm—riders mounted on beasts of wind and storm, emissaries of ancient clans, even hidden spies from the Grand Seers of the Immortal Alliance. Every power that once mocked the name of Xiang Tian now turned its gaze toward the Broken Sky Peak.
But they were too late. The tyrant was already on the move.
---
Fangs of the Old Sect
In the inner sanctum of the Azure Heaven Sect, Elder Mo Liang clenched his fist. The news from the outer disciples had been staggering: Xiang Tian had survived. No, more than that—he had awakened powers they couldn't understand. The boy they once humiliated had now become a force that could no longer be ignored.
"He must be eliminated before he regains his former strength," Mo Liang spat.
"I fear that time has passed," another elder whispered, their eyes fixed on a burning celestial scroll that bore the ancient sigil of divine recognition.
The sect elders turned to their hidden arts—summoning forbidden assassins from the Shadow Pavilion, and activating dormant constructs designed to kill divine-blooded cultivators. They would strike before Xiang Tian became unstoppable.
---
A Monarch's First Command
Xiang Tian stood on the precipice of the mountain, eyes closed. With his newfound strength, he could feel the life of the entire region pulsing. He could sense the broken ley lines beneath the earth—the ancient battlefield where cultivators once fought the heavens.
He raised his hand.
A pulse of spiritual power rippled outward, calming beasts, silencing winds. His will touched the broken stones and scorched soil.
"I, Xiang Tian, reclaim this sacred ground. From this day forth, Broken Sky Peak shall be my domain."
At that moment, the skies parted. A golden seal descended slowly from the heavens—the ancient Celestial Mandate Sigil, once thought lost to time. It embedded itself into the peak, and roots of divine jade grew from the earth, transforming the once-ruined mount into a blooming realm of power.
The world heard his declaration.
The Heavenly List trembled, and across the continent, the names of top prodigies were momentarily erased—replaced by one name glowing in crimson and gold:
Xiang Tian.
---
The First Followers
Drawn by the tremor of power, three wandering cultivators approached the mountain.
The first was Lin Yue, a rogue alchemist exiled from the Thousand Flame Valley for defying their poisonous doctrines. She carried with her an ancient cauldron and eyes filled with purpose.
The second was a blade-wielding youth named Jiang Hei, an orphan trained by wolves who once fought a Golden Core cultivator barehanded and lived to tell the tale.
The last was Mei'er, a half-spirit girl with one wing burned, cast out from the Cloudsong Temple. She bore the melody of the heavens in her voice.
All three stood at the edge of the transformed Broken Sky Peak and fell to one knee.
"We answer your call, Tyrant of the Celestial Realms."
Xiang Tian regarded them not as pawns, but as comrades—souls who, like him, were betrayed, cast aside, and reborn in fire.
"Then rise, for the world will not bow to the old. It shall kneel to us—the new."
---
Whispers of Rebellion
Meanwhile, far in the Imperial Capital, the Empress of Crimson Flames received word from her personal oracle. Her expression darkened.
"The Tyrant returns," she whispered. "And he will tear down the sky itself."
Already, noble houses began whispering of rebellion. Ancient factions stirred in secret chambers, debating whether to ally with the rising tyrant or crush him before his wings took full form.
But none could deny the truth—Xiang Tian had awakened a storm that even the heavens feared.
And he was just getting started.