418 Chain of Tragedies

[POV: Ren Xun]

Ren Xun arrived at the underground dungeon with Zhou Yong at his side, only to feel his heart sink the moment they stepped inside.

The prisoners were already dead.

Blood smeared the stone floor in uneven patterns, some dried, and some still wet. The air reeked of rot and despair. At the center of the chamber, Jia Yun knelt beside a body, her shoulders shaking as sobs tore free from her chest.

"Father…" she choked.

Ren Xun recognized the man even through the thick, dark spots crawling across his corpse. Jia Sen had been once a terrible enemy. Now, he was just a dead body, added to the pile of corpses that had contributed to the Civil War and the current war they were facing.

"No, no, this can't be," cried Jia Yun. "Why now? I… I haven't reconciled with you, yet…"

Ren Xun's gaze lingered on the wound in Jia Sen's chest. His breath tightened.

That injury.

It was identical to Yi Qiu's. The same malignant corruption that even Joan, with all her skill, had been unable to cure. Suppressed, barely contained, but never healed.

"So it caught up to him too," Ren Xun muttered grimly. "But how?"

Zhou Yong staggered slightly, bracing herself against the wall. "There's a powerful presence fighting outside," she said, her voice strained. "We shouldn't stay any longer. It's dangerous."

Sweat poured down her temples, far more than exertion alone would justify. Ren Xun frowned but said nothing. He himself was still adjusting to his Ninth Realm, the World Path settling uneasily within him. His rapid ascension had left cracks in his foundation, moments where his senses lagged or distorted.

Still, even through the layers of stone above them, he felt wild clashes of energy. They were violent and chaotic.

Zhou Yong suddenly raised a hand, her posture snapping taut. "Wait."

A silhouette appeared at the corner of the corridor, limping into the dim light.

Ren Xun's eyes widened. "Zi Cheng?"

The man looked terrible. Black spots marred his skin, spreading like a disease. He collapsed to his knees, hands clawing at the ground. His eyes were bloodshot, tears of blood streaming down his face.

"What is a prisoner doing here?" Ren Xun demanded, stepping forward despite himself.

Zi Cheng looked up at them, his expression twisted in terror. "Run," he rasped. "You have to—"

He never finished.

Zi Cheng's body detonated in a wet, horrifying explosion. Flesh, bone, and gore sprayed outward. Zhou Yong reacted instantly, raising a qi barrier that caught the worst of it, but the shockwave still slammed into Ren Xun's chest.

He staggered back, nausea rolling through him.

Then it hit him.

Ren Xun's gaze drifted to Zhou Yong's neck. The curve of it. The pulse beneath her skin.

His mouth watered.

A feral hunger surged up from somewhere deep and alien. He imagined tearing into her flesh, ripping her clothes apart, and devouring her whole. The thought was so vivid it made his breath hitch.

"No," he whispered hoarsely. "This…"

He looked down at his hand.

Dark veins were spreading across his skin, crawling upward like living things.

"H-how… dark?" Ren Xun stammered.

He couldn't remember when it started. Only that something was very, very wrong.

..

[POV: Zhou Yong]

Zhou Yong's eyes never left the corridor Zi Cheng had come from.

Something was wrong there. No, not just wrong. Malicious.

"That direction," she said sharply. "Stay alert, Ren Xun."

Her voice was steady, but her mind was already racing. She did not spare a thought for the prisoners, nor for the crying girl behind them. Jia Yun's grief meant nothing in the face of what mattered. Ren Xun mattered.

She had invested too much into him.

At first, he had merely been a vessel, a Dragon King she intended to claim, mold, and use to secure the future of dragonkind as part of the deal with Nongmin. Somewhere along the way, that calculation had changed. Ren Xun had grown into something more, someone she had personally spoiled, nurtured, trained, and refined.

He was the hope of the dragons.

"I won't lose you," Zhou Yong muttered under her breath.

Her resolve shattered in the next instant.

Something slammed into her from behind. Teeth pierced her throat.

Zhou Yong's eyes widened as agony exploded through her neck. Draconic Force flared instinctively, scales manifesting along her skin as she twisted violently.

"Ren Xun?" she gasped.

She turned just enough to see him.

Bloodshot eyes. Dilated pupils. His face twisted with hunger and madness as his fangs were buried deep in her flesh. Draconic Force roared around him, feral and uncontrolled, tearing into her defenses as if they were paper.

"Stop!" Zhou Yong roared, striking him with a palm empowered by dragon might.

Ren Xun's body detonated.

Gore and viscera splashed across the dungeon floor. The suddenness of it left her frozen, her mind blank. It was not caused by her palm strike, however, it shared the same techniques used on the corpse that exploded just moments ago. Some of Ren Xun's blood and gore got into her mouth, causing her to wretch.

"H-how?" she whispered, puking her guts out. "T-This… A curse?"

Zhou Yong had sensed nothing, despite always keeping her guard up.

A sound echoed through the darkness.

"Ke ke ke ke…"

Zhou Yong staggered, clutching her bleeding neck as laughter crawled through the corridor like rot.

A man stepped forward, draped in dark robes that swallowed the light. His features were obscured, as if reality itself refused to acknowledge them. The air around him felt diseased and wrong as every instinct in her screamed danger.

The man coughed lightly before speaking.

"My apologies," he said pleasantly. "My throat is not fond of this world's air."

Zhou Yong bared her teeth. "Who are you?"

The man inclined his head slightly. "Conquest. One of the Four Heavenly Kings. A visitor from the Greater Universe."

Her pupils shrank.

Conquest chuckled. "Impressive reaction time, Dragon God. Unfortunately, meaningless."

She gathered her qi, summoning wrath, fire, and annihilation.

Nothing responded.

Her legs buckled. Zhou Yong fell to her knees, shock flashing across her face as her qi rebelled inside her body, tearing at her meridians, and shredding her from within.

"What… did you do?" she demanded through clenched teeth.

Conquest crouched before her, bringing himself to eye level. "I created a disease," he said calmly. "So small it cannot be seen. So small it passes through any barrier. Through qi. Through blood. Through dragons."

He smiled beneath the shadows.

"That poor lad was already dead the moment he breathed near it. You are simply following him."

Zhou Yong tried to strike him. Her arm did not obey.

Conquest reached out and gently caressed her cheek. "Such a beautiful beast," he murmured. "You deserve a beautiful ending."

Red spots bloomed across Zhou Yong's skin.

Slowly, white flowers began to grow from them.

..

[POV: Jia Yun]

Jia Yun clutched her father's body as though letting go would cause him to vanish completely.

Jia Sen lay limp in her arms, the dark stains marring his chest spreading like spilled ink. His body was already cooling, yet Jia Yun could not feel the cold. Her senses had dulled, overwhelmed by the sight unfolding before her.

Not far away, Lady Zhou Yong collapsed to her knees.

White flowers burst through the dragon goddess's flesh, blooming grotesquely from skin and scale alike. They withered within breaths, petals curling inward, only to bloom again, this time stained red, nourished by her own blood. Zhou Yong tried to rise. She failed. Her body trembled once, then fell still.

Jia Yun's breath hitched.

A soft sound of footsteps echoed through the dungeon chamber.

The dark-robed man stepped forward, his presence wrong in a way Jia Yun could not articulate. The air around him felt sick, as though reality itself recoiled from his existence.

He looked down at her.

"I've been looking for you," Conquest said mildly.

Jia Yun raised her tear-streaked face. "Why?" Her voice shook, barely louder than a whisper.

Conquest regarded her with clinical interest. "Because faith is unpredictable," he replied. "And faith centers must be erased completely if one wishes to avoid complications."

Her hands tightened around her father. "I don't understand."

"You don't need to," Conquest said. "You are one of the pillars sustaining Da Wei's myth. Not the strongest, but central nonetheless. A symbol. A quiet one."

His gaze sharpened. "It is unfortunate we could not locate Da Ji. But you will suffice."

Jia Yun shrank back as his hand reached toward her.

Before his fingers could touch her, the temperature plummeted.

Cold qi erupted from Jia Sen's corpse, violent and absolute. Frost raced across the stone floor, crawling up Conquest's robes in an instant.

Conquest recoiled, snarling. "Insolent. How dare an evil spirit interfere with my task!?"

A translucent figure manifested between them.

It was Jia Sen, yet not the man Jia Yun remembered. The ghost was youthful, his posture straight, his eyes clear. Nine fox tails unfurled behind him, luminous and steady, swaying gently in the frozen air.

Jia Yun's breath caught. "Father…"

The spirit smiled faintly, eyes never leaving Conquest. "If the price of protecting another is my soul," Jia Sen said calmly, "then so be it. Even an old wretch like me can still choose kindness."

Frost surged outward.

Conquest's body locked in place, encased in a statue of ice mid-motion, his expression twisted in fury. Jia Yun blinked. The dungeon vanished and she found herself sprawled in a forest clearing, the ground damp beneath her palms. She gasped, scrambling upright, heart pounding.

In the distance, Mount Qingshi loomed. Blue flames crawled across its slopes, devouring stone and forest alike.

"No… no…" Jia Yun whispered as she struggled uphill, her legs trembling.

Dark spots appeared along her arms. She stared in horror as they spread, deepening in color, black turning to crimson.

"I'm going to die," she sobbed. "I'm really going to die."

Her knees gave out.

Desperate, she clasped her hands together. "Great Guard," she prayed, voice breaking. "Please… I don't want to die like this."

Through blurred vision, she saw figures clashing atop the burning mountain.

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Lady Alice stood there and opposite her was…

"Da Wei?" Jia Yun murmured, confusion overtaking fear.

Her sight dimmed. The world tilted.

A shadow fell across her.

Jia Yun closed her eyes and they never opened again.

..

[POV: Yuen Fu]

Yuen Fu felt it the moment it happened.

The Heaven Soul within him trembled, its light flickering violently, and then a single, devastating truth pressed itself into his consciousness.

The Human Soul was gone.

"Impossible," Yuen Fu muttered, already moving.

His cultivation was crippled, his meridians scarred, and his dantian unstable. Yet even now, he remained Yuen Fu. Martial will did not fade with injury, and mastery did not vanish with broken bones. The Supreme Master aura he had forged through countless battles still answered his call, and the Heaven Soul surged to support him, reinforcing what his body could no longer sustain alone.

"Heaven Path: God of Creation."

The words rang like a decree.

A vast, luminous halo unfurled behind him, radiant and solemn, shaped like a single wing of light. His hair ignited with golden brilliance as quintessence roared through his veins, forcibly stabilizing his shattered foundation.

Yuen Fu crossed the distance to Mount Qingshi with little effort.

He stopped beside a body.

Jia Yun lay still upon the earth, red flowers blooming grotesquely from her flesh, petals trembling in an unseen wind. The sight struck deeper than any blade.

Yuen Fu clenched his jaw. "So fragile," he said quietly. "All lives… so fragile."

In that moment, something aligned.

The hesitation that had followed him since his crippling vanished. His understanding sharpened, pain and regret folding inward and hardening into resolve. The final barrier shattered soundlessly.

Martial Saint.

Not in name, but in truth!

His aura changed. It was no longer merely presence or pressure. It became a principle, extending outward as though reality itself acknowledged his will. Within that field, Yuen Fu perceived it clearly: a subtle, diseased power clinging to Jia Yun's corpse, invasive and malignant, burrowed deep into the remnants of her life force.

Yuen Fu raised his hand as he unleashed the full power of a Martial Saint.

"Severance Domain."

The world around him stilled. His aura expanded, invisible yet absolute, cutting away all that did not belong. Light gathered in his palm as he invoked an Ultimate Skill.

"Holy Sword."

A radiant blade formed in his grasp, pure and unwavering. With a single, precise motion, he sliced through the diseased influence surrounding Jia Yun, severing it completely. The malignant presence dispersed like mist under the sun.

Yuen Fu lowered his sword and bowed his head.

"Rest well," he said, voice solemn. "Your suffering ends here."

He rose and turned, feeling terrible for not choosing to resurrect her.

After all, the durability of his body was already too weak to begin with and he could only unleash so much Ultimate Skills, before his body broke down on him.

In the distance, atop the shattered slopes of Mount Qingshi, two figures faced one another. Lady Alice stood rigid, her presence blazing with defiance. Opposite her was a man wearing a face Yuen Fu knew all too well.

Da Wei.

Or something wearing his name.

Yuen Fu took a step forward.

A voice echoed beside him. "Do not interrupt."

The air distorted.

Yuen Fu vanished with Flash Step, narrowly avoiding a descending palm strike. He reappeared behind the attacker, Severance Domain flaring as his aura lashed out. The figure was sliced apart into ribbons of flesh and light.

They reformed instantly.

"Tch," Yuen Fu clicked his tongue.

The Heaven Soul surged again, pouring quintessence into his body, reinforcing his failing flesh so that his aura could persist.

Yuen Fu steadied his stance, eyes sharp, sword raised.

Whatever this was, it would not be allowed to continue unchecked.

..

[POV: Lu Gao]

Lu Gao felt it before he acknowledged it.

The Human Soul was gone.

The connection that had always been there had snapped like a thread pulled too tight. For a brief moment, Lu Gao slowed in the air, his wings faltering. Then his jaw set, and he continued northward.

There was no time to mourn.

When the northern walls came into view, Lu Gao's breath caught.

The defenses still stood, but everything beneath them was dead.

Corpses were piled against the stone like offerings to some silent god, dragons with rotting scales, Guardians frozen mid-stance, and soldiers still gripping shattered weapons. Civilians lay where they had fallen, faces twisted in agony. Even high-level cultivators, whose bodies should have long since dissolved back into essence, remained intact, bloated and decaying.

"How…?" Lu Gao whispered.

A figure staggered from behind a broken battlement.

"Lu… Gao?"

Chang Yun emerged, barely recognizable. Pus seeped from blackened veins along his arms, his face gaunt, eyes red from weeping and sickness. He stumbled forward and nearly collapsed before catching himself against the wall.

"You came," Chang Yun said hoarsely. "Are reinforcements? Is… is his Holy Majesty coming?"

Lu Gao landed before him, boots crunching softly against debris and bone.

Chang Yun's voice broke. "We need the Holy Emperor. We need his miracles. Please… my family is gone. My people are gone. My soldiers…" He choked, tears streaking through the grime on his face. "They all died screaming."

Lu Gao looked around again, his chest tightening. The wind howled across the walls, carrying with it a faint, sickly presence, something invisible yet foul, drifting southward with every gust.

"This technique…" Lu Gao murmured. "It's vile."

He turned back to Chang Yun. "Tell me what happened."

Chang Yun sank to his knees. "It took just one day for the whole place to collapse," he sobbed. "One day! People started coughing. Then bleeding. Then they turned on each other… or just fell over and died. Cultivation didn't matter. Formation barriers didn't matter. Nothing mattered."

Lu Gao clenched his fists.

"Hold on," he said firmly. "Have faith. Do not give up yet. I will find a solution."

Chang Yun looked up at him, eyes hollow. "Promise me."

Lu Gao nodded once. "I promise."

Six dark, feathery wings erupted from Lu Gao's back, unfurling with a heavy rush of air. He rose above the walls, hovering as the indifferent sky was reflected in his eyes.

"I'm not the best with Cleanse," he muttered to himself. "But I am a Paladin."

Hellfire stirred within his dantian. It was not the sulfurous flames of damnation, but something deeper, and purer. Flames born from judgment and resolve.

"Cleanse."

Crimson fire spilled outward, washing over the battlefield in great arcs. The sky darkened as the flames spread, burning not flesh but corruption itself. The sickly presence recoiled, thinned, and vanished where the fire passed.

Lu Gao exhaled sharply, sweat beading on his brow.

"It would've been better if Master were here," he said quietly. "But this will have to do."

The Hell Soul stirred within him, carrying another message, this one relayed through the Heaven Soul residing in Yuen Fu. Mount Qingshi was in chaos. Alice was facing something wearing Da Wei's face.

Lu Gao's wings trembled.

"What would you do, Master?" he asked under his breath.

The Hell Soul answered calmly, "Do what leaves no regrets."

Lu Gao closed his eyes briefly, and then opened them with renewed resolve.

"I trust you," he said. "All of you. Lady Alice won't fall so easily, and my fellow disciple is as formidable as I am… Yes, I will put my trust in them…" He beat his wings hard, scattering black feathers that ignited into cleansing flame as they fell. Turning south, then east, Lu Gao surged forward, carrying purifying fire with him.

He would burn this sickness out of the world… or die trying.

..

[POV: Zhu Shin]

General Zhu Shin, the Iron Bull of the Empire, stood atop the western walls with his hands clasped behind his back, his broad silhouette unmoving despite the tremors rolling beneath his feet.

Beyond the barrier formations, the armies of the Heavenly Temple stretched to the horizon. Lines upon lines of cultivators advanced in grim order, while above them hovered the true threat, soaring vessels layered in formation, their hulls glowing as spell arrays cycled relentlessly.

"Reinforcements from Mount Qingshi," Zhu Shin muttered. "Still nothing."

An attendant approached at a hurried pace, breath uneven. "General! A report from the north."

Zhu Shin accepted the jade slip and read in silence. His jaw tightened.

"The north… fell to sickness?" he said at last.

"Yes, General. It happened within a single day. Interim General Chang Yun survived, but the casualties are catastrophic."

Zhu Shin's gaze darkened as he continued reading. The report confirmed that the enemy had not advanced through the north, likely deterred by the devastation, but the losses were beyond grim. It also detailed Hell Paladin Lu Gao's intervention, how he had attempted to contain the spread before pursuing the origin of the sickness eastward.

"The east…" Zhu Shin murmured.

That was where the dragons stood. If even they were threatened, then the situation had already passed the point of reason.

The western barrier shook violently as another volley of thunder bombs detonated. Light flared. Soldiers shouted. Zhu Shin did not look up. He finished the report, his expression hardening further when he reached the final section.

The south was collapsing.

"No generals remain," he read aloud, incredulous. "They want me to take command?"

The attendant swallowed. "Yes, General."

Zhu Shin exhaled slowly through his nose. In a perfect world, Sword Saint Yuen Fu would already be here, his presence alone enough to shatter enemy morale. But there had been no word from him, nor from Mount Qingshi. Orders had ceased altogether.

It had become a battlefield without command.

"What future is left for the Holy Empire," Zhu Shin asked quietly, "when even its voice has gone silent?"

A murmur rose along the walls. Zhu Shin looked up.

On the horizon, a floating island emerged from the clouds.

For a heartbeat, hope flickered. He had never seen New Willow with his own eyes, but the stories were well known. It was a city that defied the heavens, a symbol of defiance.

Then he saw where it came from.

Enemy lines parted to welcome it.

The sky darkened. Light vanished as an eclipse swallowed the sun, turning day into an oppressive twilight. From the blackened disc above, nine colossal serpentine dragons burst forth, their bodies wreathed in annihilating flame.

"Barrier teams!" Zhu Shin roared. "Evade and scatter, fly if you must!"

The dragons crashed into the western defenses. Formations shattered like glass. Walls melted. Soldiers vanished in infernos so complete that nothing remained.

Nine blazing paths were carved straight into the heart of the land.

Before Zhu Shin could rally what remained, the clouds themselves turned hostile. What he had mistaken for shadow was motion as hundreds of thousands of flying swords descending in a silver deluge.

They fell without mercy.

Artillery was shredded. War drums were pulverized. Defensive towers collapsed as if made of sand. Screams were cut short mid-breath.

From beyond the ruined walls came the thunder of war drums. They were deep, synchronized, and merciless. Heavenly Temple cultivators advanced on foot, ranks of Third and Fourth Realm soldiers wielding strange spears etched with sigils. Above them, Fifth Realm cultivators and higher rode their swords through the broken sky, descending like executioners.

"Form up on me!" Zhu Shin bellowed, veins standing out along his neck. "On me!"

A handful of soldiers answered. Too few.

Steel flashed.

Zhu Shin turned just in time to see a swordsman step through the chaos, movements calm, almost detached. There was no exchange. No struggle worthy of memory.

The blade passed.

As his vision dimmed, Zhu Shin's final sight was the man's back, his robes unmarked, and sword already clean, as he walked away from the fallen western wall.

..

[POV: Lin Lim]

Lin Lim stood at the heart of Riverfall, surrounded by dragons.

They circled her like living ramparts, massive bodies coiled protectively as scales shimmered with restrained power. She herself was clad in armor far heavier than any mortal woman should have borne, each plate forged from dragon scale and etched with ancient sigils. It weighed nothing on her shoulders, yet its presence pressed on her mind, a constant reminder that everyone around her feared for her life.

"She must not be left unattended," one elder dragon insisted.

"At all costs," another echoed.

"The Dragon King's wife cannot fall," a third rumbled.

Lin Lim listened in silence, her hands folded neatly before her. She had lived as a mortal for too long for their concern to surprise her. To them, she was precious and fragile. A soul of unknowable depth housed in a fragile body, a liability they could not afford to lose.

"I want a dagger," Lin Lim said suddenly.

The dragons froze.

Deng Chan, Princess of Dragons, turned sharply as she transformed into her humanoid shape. "Absolutely not!"

"For self-defense," Lin Lim replied calmly. "Or for something else, if it comes to that."

Deng Chan's brows drew together. "You will not speak such things."

Lin Lim met her gaze without flinching. "You know as well as I do that I am weak. I cannot fight. I cannot escape. But I still have one thing that belongs to me."

Her hand pressed lightly against her chest. "My life."

One of the younger dragons shifted uneasily. Deng Chan said nothing.

"If I am taken hostage," Lin Lim continued, her voice steady, "I become leverage against my husband, against Riverfall, against the Empire. I will not allow that. If I die, the Holy Emperor can bring me back. But if I am used, countless others may die in my place."

Deng Chan studied her for a long moment. Then she exhaled.

"…Very well," Deng Chan said at last. "Have it your way."

Lin Lim expected a dagger.

Instead, she was given two things.

A slender blade, small enough to hide within her sleeve. And a poison pill, fitted to be concealed beneath a tooth.

Lin Lim accepted both without comment.

"Mama?"

She turned.

A small boy stood at the edge of the chamber, no older than five. His eyes were clear, his expression open and curious.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

Lin Lim knelt immediately, the heavy armor folding around her as if it were cloth. She smiled and brushed his hair back gently.

"No," she said softly. "Nothing you need to worry about."

The boy was Ren Zhe, her son with Ren Xun.

Decades had passed since his birth, yet he had not aged a day. Whispers followed him wherever he went. Curses. Ominous omens. Twin souls entangled at birth. Even Lin Lim did not fully understand it.

But he was loved.

The dragons adored him, indulging every whim, guarding him with a devotion that bordered on reverence.

Ren Zhe tugged at her sleeve and pointed outward. "Mama. Why is the sun dark?"

Lin Lim's breath caught.

She rose, taking his hand, and the dragons parted as they moved outside. The sky above Riverfall had dimmed unnaturally, light drained away as a black disc swallowed the sun.

An eclipse.

Deng Chan's expression hardened. She formed a seal with her hands. "Mind Expansion Technique." Her pupils dilated as she stared upward, perception stretching far beyond mortal limits. A moment later, she lowered her hands, face pale.

"This is an emergency," Deng Chan said. "We must prepare to flee."

Lin Lim frowned. "Flee?"

"The dark sun is not localized," Deng Chan replied. "It is reflected across the entire Empire. Every territory is seeing the same thing. This is no natural phenomenon. Moreover, I believe the caster of that spell is hostile to us. It's just unleashed an offensive spell from the distance and is now preparing another offensive spell targeted here. We must go."

The dragons stirred, unease rippling through them.

"Something terrible is about to happen," Deng Chan said quietly.

Lin Lim's heart sank.

She knew of only one power capable of summoning a darkened sun.

As if summoned by her thought, black flames ignited around the palace grounds, licking the air without heat. The dragons roared in alarm, wings spreading, bodies shifting into battle-ready stances.

From within the flames, a figure stepped forward.

A man clad in ominous bearing, his presence alone bending the air around him. His face was familiar, burned into the memory of the Civil War, a figure once hailed as a hero to the people of the Holy Empire.

Lin Lim's fingers tightened around Ren Zhe's hand.

"Ru Qiu," she whispered.

The Heavenly Demon had arrived.

..

[POV: Feng Wei]

Feng Wei stood amid the ruins of a temple that no longer belonged to any living age.

Gray earth stretched endlessly beneath his feet, cracked and lifeless, as if the world itself had long since exhaled its final breath. The mirage shimmered faintly at the edges, sustained by a bizarre and deliberate power. This was not a place that truly existed, but it was real enough to wound the heart.

He had made it so.

Cracked pillars rose toward a roof that had been torn away by time or calamity. Ancient sigils lay carved into the stone floor, their meanings eroded until even the Supreme Beings would struggle to recall their original purpose. Incense bowls lay overturned beside shattered statues, their faces worn smooth into featureless masks of dust.

This had once been the Temple of the End.

Above it loomed the False Earth, vast and silent, while the Sun hovered just beyond, frozen in an eternal position that defied all natural law.

At the center of the ruins floated an orb.

It was small, unassuming, yet absolute…

It was the Source! Earth. Afterlife. The final anchor of existence, named differently by different Supreme Beings, yet feared and coveted by all.

Feng Wei watched as light gathered around it.

Slowly, painfully, Da Wei re-formed.

A naked figure emerged from the glow, crowned and trembling, collapsing onto one knee as if the weight of existence itself pressed down upon him. His eyes lifted at once, blazing with fury as they fixed upon the mirage unfolding around him.

Cities burned.

Walls fell.

Faith crumbled.

The Holy Empire was unraveling.

Feng Wei exhaled softly.

"Well done," he said, his voice carrying effortlessly through the ruins. "You finally regenerated directly from the Source."

Da Wei did not respond. His hands dug into the stone as his gaze followed the cascading tragedies, his breath uneven.

"With this," Feng Wei continued, "even if you die, even if every layer of immortality is stripped away, even if your quintessence is exhausted to nothing, you will still return. Somewhere. Somehow. Even a Supreme Being will not be able to erase your existence so cleanly anymore with their Laws of Punishment."

Da Wei roared.

"Send me back," he demanded, his voice raw. "Now. They need me."

Feng Wei waved a hand, and the mirage shattered like glass, the screams and flames dissolving into silence. "Lies," Feng Wei said calmly. "All of it. Just motivation."

Da Wei snapped his head up, eyes burning. "You liar."

He staggered to his feet, pointing accusingly. "You think I cannot feel it? Send me back!"

Feng Wei studied him more closely then, his expression shifting almost imperceptibly.

"…So," Feng Wei murmured. "You can finally sense again."

Divine Sense flickered faintly around Da Wei, unsteady but unmistakable. Feng Wei smiled faintly to himself. He had restricted those abilities early on, carefully, deliberately, to drive the lesson deeper.

"Two hundred years," Feng Wei said, shaking his head, "was not enough. You have not mastered the Source. You have not mastered the Hollow Star. You cannot go."

Da Wei laughed bitterly.

He reached outward, drawing upon the Hollow Star without hesitation. Quintessence surged like a tide, weaving itself into a robe that draped over his body as if the void itself bent to his will.

"I am not asking for permission," Da Wei said.

Space screamed.

The Temple of the End fractured as Da Wei tore a rift through existence itself, leaping into the void, forcing a path toward the Hollowed World through sheer, reckless power.

For an instant, it seemed he might succeed.

Then he fell.

Da Wei clutched his head, collapsing midair as the crown upon his brow tightened, radiating a pressure that crushed thought itself. His scream echoed through the void, raw and furious.

Feng Wei appeared beside him as if he had always been there.

"Have you ever heard," Feng Wei asked mildly, "of the monkey and the golden headband?"

Da Wei spat a curse through clenched teeth. "You're the monkey."

Feng Wei chuckled softly. Despite everything, Da Wei remained stubborn, still sealing away his memories of Earth, clinging to that ignorance as if it were a shield.

"You might change your mind," Feng Wei said, "if you ever stop sealing your memories."

The crown tightened further.

Da Wei cried out, veins standing out along his neck as the Hollow Star asserted its dominance.

Feng Wei's gaze hardened.

"Tell me," he said quietly, "how do you intend to stop the chain of tragedies you started, when you cannot even overcome the Hollow Star?"

The void swallowed Da Wei's scream as the lesson continued.