Years flowed like sand through an hourglass.
Timelines rose and fell.
And Yun Lintian killed.
He had long lost count of how many Primordial Gods had fallen to his blade. Hundreds? Thousands? It no longer mattered. Each death was a step forward, each absorbed divinity another fragment of power added to his being.
The corrupted ones—those tainted by Yin's mark—had become disturbingly common. At first, Yun Lintian had studied them, searching for weaknesses in their corruption. Now? He slaughtered them as effortlessly as breathing.
Emotion had faded long ago.
There was only the hunt.
The kill.
The growth.
Yun Lintian stood in the endless dark, the God Slaying Sword humming quietly at his side. His golden-black eyes scanned the fractured realities before him, selecting his next target with cold precision.
He no longer hesitated.
No longer questioned.
He was a blade honed to a razor's edge—a weapon with a single purpose.
"Stronger."
The word echoed in his mind like a mantra.
