Once upon a time, when mountains bowed to the might of one's soul, and the seven heavens trembled beneath the steps of a single man…
In the world of cultivation, a man was born—he conquered the heavens, crushed the great sects, and climbed over thousands of corpses to reach the peak of immortality.
His name was etched into the sky itself…
The Eternal Emperor, Ji Xuan, Sovereign of Infernal Flame.
Ji Xuan was a man beyond description.
His long hair flowed like a cascade of obsidian gold, and his eyes burned like twin embers from hell.
His very presence could make sect masters fall to their knees in reverence and fear.
Within his opulent palace, built from celestial bones, walls of white spirit-stone, and a roof of frozen energy glass, he stood clad in black robes embroidered with immortal fire, gazing down from the highest balcony.
Before him stretched the Immortal City like a painted masterpiece.
The Eternal Spring Mountains shimmered in the distance, veiled by pure clouds, while Skyflowers bloomed even in the eternal winter.
The wind carried the soft breath of spirits from distant temples, and the ringing of faraway bells echoed like the announcement of an endless reign.
And yet, in that moment… he felt a terrifying loneliness.
Soft footsteps broke the silence.
His wife, Yi Lan, the beautiful immortal who had ascended alongside him, appeared carrying a cup of the Ten Soul Wine.
She smiled at him… the same smile that once melted his hardness.
She said gently,
"You've worked hard… drink, my Emperor."
He took the cup from her, his gaze weary. He trusted her as he trusted himself.
Just one sip… was enough.
In an instant, his throat burned, his body trembled, and his energy surged like a collapsing volcano.
The cup fell from his hand and shattered—like the sound of a world breaking apart.
"Y... Yi… Lan?" he whispered, voice choking.
His body collapsed to the floor, blood pooling in his mouth. His energy… was vanishing. The power that once terrified countless realms… dissipated like smoke.
The sacred hall doors creaked open.
In walked his first disciple, Lu Han—the one he had raised since childhood, the one to whom he had entrusted the keys to the highest cultivation arts.
He was smiling.
"Master… Teacher… your time is over."
He stepped closer, betrayal gleaming in his eyes.
"You were the last obstacle between me and true immortality."
He pointed to Yi Lan, who now stood beside him, cold and motionless like a statue.
"You know… she loved me, not you."
He laughed—a sound that tore through the soul.
"And on the night you closed your eyes to rest, she kissed me before your Eternal Mirror… Yes, right there, where you used to admire your sacred mountains."
"I knew you could see it… but you said nothing. That was your weakness. And this… is your end."
Ji Xuan did not speak. Blood boiled in his mouth, but the true pain came not from the poison,
but from the soul-wound… the betrayal of the one he loved… and the disciple he raised.
He stretched out a trembling hand, yearning to kill them… but it fell.
"This… is not… justice…" he whispered, barely audible.
Then he closed his eyes…
And within him, a soul-shattering scream echoed into the sky.
The Eternal Emperor conqueror of the heavens—was slain by the betrayal of his disciple and wife.
The world believed… he was gone, forever.
…But fate had other plans.
…
Silence.
Then a low hum.
A faint light.
The stench of rot.
Ji Xuan opened his eyes—slowly. The ceiling above was rotted wood, cobwebs dangling with dead spiders, and the walls were coated with dry, cracked mud.
"Where… am I?"
He tried to rise.
His body wouldn't move.
He collapsed to the ground—bones weak, shaking with pain.
A gasp of agony—not only physical… but deeply spiritual.
"This… isn't my body…"
He reached out, only to see thin, deformed fingers, burned from ancient wounds.
He crawled toward a shattered mirror on the floor.
What he saw was a face half-burned, with one dead eye.
His hair was short, messy, and his mouth bled.
Then he spotted a wooden cane discarded in the corner—and realized… this body was crippled.
Broken. Shattered. Pathetic.
He slammed his hand against the floor.
"What… in the name of the heavens?!"
Then—his memories surged. Images, scenes, pain.
This body had belonged to a boy named Shen Mu, son of a small sect called the Three Shadow Sect, outcast and scorned.
Two days ago, other disciples beat him until his spirit shattered and his spiritual meridians were destroyed.
Suddenly, a strange voice echoed from within his heart.
A whisper… then a demonic laugh.
"Hahahahaha… At last, a new vessel is born."
Everything would begin again…
But this time…
the Emperor would show no mercy.