The Ashura race is depicted as one of the most powerful and secretive god-demon clans in the Three Realms. They are not simply the horned musclemen of Hindu-Buddhist mythology, but a spiritual race with a unique physiology: bluish to gray skin, veins that glow red, and each individual carries a "core of wrath"—a core of retribution energy that powers the war gods. Their realm is called the Asura Middle Heaven (修罗天域), a floating kingdom wrapped in a veil of blood mist to repel foreign visitors.
The Ashura are an extreme meritocracy: titles of nobility are not inherited, but "carved in blood on the battlefield." A frail infant is treated as harshly as an heir to the throne. The stories of the Ashura highlight the Ashura philosophy: glory is gained through "the purification of pain"—each physical wound adds another layer of runic engraving to the bones, increasing the capacity of war qi.
Xiu Luo was born in the Asura Middle Heaven as the weakest child among the demon-god clan—his body was fragile, his qi-blood thin, and his horns had not yet fully grown. On a bloody night, a rebel army invaded his village. Before Xiu Luo's eyes, all his relatives were slaughtered; the splash of blood ignited the "core of rage" hidden in his body. The trauma and rage triggered a terrible potential: his veins flashed red and with one blow he knocked down the giant that had desecrated the family altar.
But the surprises did not stop. The ancestor, Ji Ji, kidnapped Xiu Luo to the Zhu Ji Hell-Training Ground—the most brutal initiation place of the Asura race. For years he was "killed" and "revived" repeatedly with poison, fire, and illusion magic, until his nerves awakened the "five senses of the War God": time-breaking vision, soul-reading hearing, intention-discerning smell, qi flow sensing, and taste measuring enemy strength through blood in the air.
There he also mastered the Fighting-Soul Way, a fighting art that created a second blade spirit.
In addition, his tenacity formed a very powerful sword. According to Liao Ji, Xiu Luo's sword is capable of destroying a dimension in Xiu Luo's potential as a talented novice.
After escaping the hell of training by defeating Liao Ji and gaining the inheritance of great power from Liao Ji and the other ancestral spirits, Xiu Luo goes and reunites with his old friend, Shigure, the only human who once helped him—but the Asura law of the jungle judges gentleness as a sin.
The elites label Shigure a "burden" and sentence him to death in the training arena. The newly freed Xiu Luo must watch his friend be torn apart; this tragedy splits his mind into two personas: a calm king and the "Mad King", a blood-bone armored creature that appears when his emotions run high. In this form, he is able to tear through the illusory mountains of Nirvana with a single slash of red-black qi.
"One thing is for sure, Shigure, I will avenge you at the coming-of-age ceremony. I will remember it!!" Xiu Luo cries.
He buries his friend's body.
The next day, a gray dawn crept over the Asura Middle Heaven, illuminating the giant bowl-shaped arena carved into the top of the floating island. A mist of blood still hung, dripping slowly onto the black stone field where the coming-of-age ceremony would be held—a mandatory rite in which young Ashuras slaughtered each other until only one remained.
Xiu Luo stepped onto the obsidian steps, twin swords—Ashura Teeth—strapped across his back. Each step seemed to trigger a rumble of thunder in the veins of the earth; the aura he had been holding tightly seeped out, adding pressure to the thin air of the arena. The other participants, twelve young men chosen by the clan, stood in the center of the circle of runes, waiting for his signal. They turned, sensing the iron aura that came with Xiu Luo, but dismissed it as the arrogance of a skinny boy.
In the stone stands, the spectators—iron-scaled elders, jade-horned nobles—muttered impatiently. The referee, an arbitrator in a skull mask with gold accents, stepped forward to the center altar. "Today," he said loudly, "your blood will be the ink that writes a new destiny!" His voice vibrated among the obelisks.
Before his speech could reach its climax, Xiu Luo raised his head. His gray eyes widened, pulsing red. Memories of Shigure—a strangled scream, a hand reaching out in vain—broke through his defenses. Without a word, he roared: a low cry that exploded like a dimensional rupture. Instantly his Ashura aura consumed the space, condensing into a red-black mist that squeezed the lungs of all present.
The nearest participant staggered; before he could snarl, Xiu Luo was gone, leaving only a streak of blood-colored lightning. The Ashura Teeth were unsheathed—a beam of light cutting diagonally. The young man's head was thrown back, his blood flowing before his brain could register the pain.
His movements were beyond the reach of the naked eye: a step-split-rend, three heartbeats. Twenty meters were broken, the ground cracking into a web of red lightning. Ashura Teeth whizzed after him, cutting off the next enemy's arms, chest, and spine. Horrified screams rose in unison, suppressed by the intolerant pressure of the Mad King's aura.
A noble son tried to unleash the Kong Clan's Lightning Sutra, sending out thousands of electric needles. Xiu Luo twisted through the air; his blood aura swallowed the lightning, turning it into metallic red sparks. He landed behind the young man, slamming his neck with the hilt of his sword, bones shattering like dry twigs.
The stands shook in panic. The elders chanted a sealing spell, but the glyphs in the air collapsed upon contact with Xiu Luo's "anger core"—as if ancient runes recognized the hierarchy of predators. The referee froze; he was about to announce disqualification, but his tongue didn't move. The Ashura Sword pierced his skull mask, shattering it like an empty shell.
The remaining four contestants tried a defensive formation, back-to-back. Xiu Luo looked up, letting his opponent's blood wash over his face, then punched the air. The ground collapsed; his figure appeared in the center of their circle like a terrible shadow. With a single turn of his twin swords, he drew a circle of doom—bodies split in eight directions, blood blooming like demonic flowers.
Silence fell as the last beat of his opponent's heart died out. The mist of aura slowly receded, leaving Xiu Luo standing alone in the middle of a pool of red. The shadow of his sword lengthened, as if marking the line between the old generation and the new vengeance.
He turned to the stands.
"This is your coming-of-age ceremony," he whispered, his voice loud enough for every soul to hear.
"I pass. Who's next?" His gaze pierced the layers of hierarchy; even the God of Counsel bowed, feeling the shock of fate.
In the distance, the bronze gong—usually sounded to inaugurate a winner—was untouched. No one dared approach. And so the echo of victory was replaced by a collective throb of anxiety: Asura's Middle Heaven had just given birth to a manhood too savage to be contained by tradition.
Xiu Luo dusted his sword blade in the air—the blood evaporated into red crystals before it hit the ground. He turned, his steps calm, leaving the arena without celebration, as if the slaughter had just been a greeting. But every eye that followed him knew: the Mad King had ascended the throne in the heart of the mist, and Asura Middle Heaven would never be the same.
All the ashuras were shocked, they were about to judge Xiu Luo. However, King Gu, one of the four major Kings of ashura rose.
"The new generation is great. I declare, Xiu Luo is innocent!" King Gu exclaimed.
Why?
The ashuras were confused. But the decision was final, Xiu Luo was the best generation of ashura for now from the western branch.
King Gu approached Xiu Luo.
Xiu Luo was alert, he knew that although King Gu had a gentle and wise nature due to his feminine nature and appearance, he was still an ashura who could be merciless in battle.
King Gu's feminine appearance can indeed be deceiving, he wears a typical prince's robe but with feminine attributes and nuances, with long hair tied back, and the amulet he wears.
But make no mistake, even though his appearance is truly feminine, he has a very scary voice when angry.