Upon the muddy ground, whose stench gnawed into the marrow, the body of a young man lay powerless, shrouded in flickering silver and black light that dimmed with every breath. Blood from his wounds had mingled with the rancid soil, forming a crimson pool devoured by the grey mist. In that place — where time refused to move, and the heavens feigned blindness — Chen Tian, nameless child of an insignificant village at the edge of the Mortal Realm, had drawn his final breath.
Those who once mocked him, sneered at him as filth, had long left without so much as a prayer, without a sliver of pity, as if the death of the worthless did not merit memory, burial, nor tears. All of it drowned within the withered wind and decayed mist clinging to the air, wrapping the young corpse in eternal silence. How could the world weep for a life even death itself was too disgusted to claim?
Yet in the wreckage of his soul, amidst shattered fragments of fading consciousness and thickening gloom, a single ember lingered. Faint, nearly extinguished — yet unyielding. It quivered softly, refusing to bow entirely to the cruel will of existence. For even filth, when cast into hell, could learn to deny the flames.
In the midst of that emptiness, a voice rumbled. Cold, ancient — like the creak of rusted dimensional chains, echoing from nowhere, as though born of time's own marrow.
"Hoh… so the cursed ember in your rotting flesh hasn't gone out after all."
From the depths of darkness, a tall figure emerged, draped in thick black mist. Crimson hair spilled down his back, his eyes ablaze — the left a deep violet spiral, the right a golden orb adorned with six mandalas, slowly revolving in eternal stillness. Hei Xuan — the Sky Demon Emperor, a name once spoken in fear across the upper realms — now stood before that fragile ember.
He sneered, a flicker of ancient hatred burning behind his eyes. Behind him, dimly, a Darkness Night Phoenix roared, its eight legendary wings unfurled. That ancient Martial Soul yet clung to existence, shackled to a soul too stubborn to fade.
"Heh… even death finds you too foul to drag away, boy."
The ember trembled. Within it, a frail whisper stirred — a voice nearly lost, yet clutching tight to an ancient, primal instinct to live.
"I… am not… finished."
Hei Xuan's gaze narrowed. A low, mirthless laugh slipped past his lips.
"Good… seems you're cut from the bloodline of defiance."
He raised a hand. His golden eye pulsed. Six mandalas whirled into a dimensional vortex, encircling Chen Tian's ember of consciousness.
"Listen well, wretched child. This world is a rotten field, and I — the Sky Demon Emperor — am the hand that harvests death. You are nothing but a spoiled seed in a pit of mud. But if the laws insist, I can make thorns bloom from carrion. Survive alongside me… or be scattered into ash, swept away by the River of Time."
The ember, though frail, flared brighter. A weak, yet resolute voice rose once more.
"I… live… not to kneel. I live… to defy my own heavens."
Silence. Then, Hei Xuan laughed, his voice splitting the stillness.
"Hahaha… insolent brat! Once, I too made that vow… before I burned the heavens and wrote my name in blood upon the bones of ancient gods."
In that instant, the six mandalas fused. The ember was drawn into the dimensional vortex, fusing with the lifeless body. Chen Tian's eyelids fluttered open. What flickered within was no longer human light, nor the gaze of a mere village boy, but the eternal void pulsing within his pupils. The left spun a violet spiral, the right gleamed with gold, six faint mandalas orbiting within.
"Hmph."
A deep sound slipped from his lips. Yet it was not Chen Tian's voice. It was the echo of a grudge once held by the Sky Demon Emperor, who had set the heavens ablaze and defied the dimensions themselves.
The blood on his hand was still warm. The muddy earth recorded his steps. The children who once jeered now lay lifeless, unable to grasp that an ancient calamity had just drawn its first breath once more.
Hei Xuan moved. The air quaked. Violet mist danced. No need for technique, no need for spell. Only the eternal will that shattered mortal limits. In the span of a breath, those bodies collapsed, blood spraying into the muck, souls mercilessly torn from flesh.
At the edge of the village, an old tavern — crooked walls, leaking roof. But enough to ward off the cold of the mortal world. Chen Tian — or rather, Hei Xuan within him — pushed open the warped wooden door. The tavern fell silent. A handful of young men froze, wine jugs trembling in their hands.
"W-wasn't he… dead just now?"
"Those eyes… shit… what the hell is that?!"
Without a word, Hei Xuan seized a jug from a table. No question of price. No thought to pay.
Glug… glug… glug…
The cheap liquor burned down his throat. Bitter, vile — but to Hei Xuan, who had once drunk the blood of eternal dragons and the poison mists of the void, mortal liquor was nothing more than a sip of filthy nostalgia.
"Hmph… your liquor tastes no better than a dying dragon's piss… but ah… mortal nostalgia always stinks this way."
The room held its breath. No one dared speak. For they all knew — this was no longer the Chen Tian they mocked.
His steps light, he left the decrepit tavern. Beneath an ancient tree beyond the village, Hei Xuan sat against a gnarled root, jug in hand, eyes on the cracked grey sky.
"Mortal Realm… rotten, as always."
As he went for another drink, a faint sound whispered within his soul. Tiiinngg… The shattered remnant of the Dark Moon Sword Martial Soul still clung to a wisp of mist. Hei Xuan scoffed. Raising a finger, he formed a demonic seal, violet-black light blooming at his fingertip. From an ancient dimensional ring, thick mist poured forth, taking the shape of a three-eyed wolf, its aura Soul Sky Grade.
"Your old Martial Soul? Filth, unworthy. Brace yourself, boy."
The wolf surged forward, merging with the lingering mist of Chen Tian's former soul fragment. A soul-piercing scream trembled through the dimension, blood spilling from the boy's lips. But Hei Xuan grinned.
"If you die, you're carrion. But if you survive… get ready. Old Hei's gonna slap your skull 'til you remember whose body this is."
Within Chen Tian's frame, a new Martial Soul took shape — a Three-Eyed Moon Wolf, fur half-white, half-black, three spiraled eyes gleaming. A Soul Sky Grade aura burst faintly, rippling through the Mortal Realm.
Hei Xuan gazed up at the cracking sky.
"Listen well, Chen Tian. If the cursed ember in your soul hasn't yet faded, then from this moment — this world is your hell. And I… am the demon who'll tear it open for you."
He drifted from Chen Tian's body. Mist cloaked him, an aura of void pulsing, ancient fog swirling. His voice pierced the dimensional layers, striking the crumbling consciousness that still clung to life deep within.
"In this world, there is no father. No mother. No gods. No fate. There is only strength — and whose hand chokes the throat of heaven first."
The ember flared. Once. Twice. A shallow breath.
Not the breath of man. Not the breath of soul. But the breath of an existence that refused to be claimed by the world.
Hei Xuan grinned. The glow in his eyes deepened.
"Get up, you little bastard. You are no one. You will be no one. But from now on… I decide if you live or die."
He snapped his fingers. The air quivered. The earth cracked. Black mist coiled around Chen Tian's body. The new Martial Soul howled, dark fog flooding the mortal plane. The sky shuddered. The wind halted. Time staggered.
And… in the next instant, those eyelids opened. Chen Tian rose, his body trembling, dried blood cracking on his skin. Violet and golden eyes faintly burned.
"Where… is this…?"
A whisper, frail, yet no longer a mortal boy's voice. It was the voice of a creature freshly torn from the abyss.
Chen Tian turned. Atop the tree branch, a misty figure sat — crimson hair cascading down, mismatched eyes radiating void.
"Who… are you? Some wretched ghost… or a god of carrion…?"
The grey sky gave no answer. But Hei Xuan, with a crooked grin and a thousand lifetimes of hatred behind his eyes, merely chuckled.
"In this little hell, boy. But worry not… Old Hei's come bearing liquor, and a single, spiteful curse."
Upon the muddy earth, whose stench gnawed into the marrow, the body of a young man stirred. His fingers twitched, groping the cold mud that wrapped his body. Grey mist hung heavy, the world seemingly drained of color.
Chen Tian's gaze lingered on the strange figure in the tree. The world around him felt… heavier, colder. The mocking laughter, the jeering voices, the footsteps had long since vanished. All that remained was blood, wet earth, and a mist too stubborn to lift.
"I… am not dead?"
He clutched his chest. His heart still beat, though sluggish. His wounds… closing, yet the pain gnawed.
"Hoh… so that cursed ember in your rotting flesh truly hasn't died."
Chen Tian shivered at that voice. The world itself felt alien. He grabbed a fistful of mud, clinging to something amidst the chaos of his mind.
"Is this… hell?"
His gaze returned to the figure above. Something unfamiliar swelled within — not fear, but a primal instinct shrieking that this thing… was beyond mortal logic.
Unable to bear the pressure in his chest, Chen Tian snatched a small stone nearby and hurled it at the figure.
"Quit screwing with me, you damned ghost!"
The stone shot forth. With barely a flicker, the figure snatched it from the air.
"Tch… fire's decent, brat. But that? You think a stone can touch a sky demon like me?"
Chen Tian grit his teeth. His left hand trembled. In that instant, he tried calling forth his Martial Soul — though he knew it had long since shattered.
"Come forth… Dark Moon Sword…"
But instead, black-violet mist burst from the back of his hand. No sword. No worn blade. But a black-and-white wolf, its three spiral eyes gleaming dimly.
Chen Tian froze. Breath caught.
"What… is this?"
The Martial Soul stared back. Its three spiraled eyes pulsed, calling to him. The faint aura of Soul Sky Grade quaked the air.
Chen Tian suddenly felt this world was no longer the one he'd known. His head throbbed. His body staggered. His gaze locked onto the crimson-haired man.
"What did you… do to my body…?"
The figure grinned.
"Your old Martial Soul? Trash. Gone. I discarded it."
Chen Tian clenched his chest against the alien sensation. That heavy voice rumbled once more.
"Listen, brat. This world's no place for the weak. You died. Your flesh rotten. But the laws demanded that ember linger. And you know what that means?"
Chen Tian was silent.
"From now on, I'm here. In your body. In your blood. In your soul. I am — Hei Xuan, the Sky Demon Emperor. And you, you little bastard… are merely the vessel for my will."
Chen Tian clenched his jaw. In his eyes — once dulled — a faint ember flickered anew.
"I… don't need your pity."
A thin smile.
"Good. I never intended to give it."
The grey wind curled. The Three-Eyed Moon Wolf howled, black mist cloaking Chen Tian's frame.