The grand hall of the once-great Phoenix Empire lay in ruins. Cracked pillars, shattered jade statues, and smoldering embers littered the blood-drenched floor. On the shattered remains of the imperial throne sat Vạn Thiên Phong, his crimson robe tattered but his posture regal, arrogant—unshaken.
Outside, the wind howled like a wounded beast. The sky bled red. The sun, veiled by dark clouds, cast an eerie glow on the empire that now belonged to no one… except him.
The last general of the Phoenix Empire groaned as he crawled toward the stairs leading to the throne. His armor was broken, and his right arm was missing.
"Y-you… demon… You'll bring ruin to us all…"
Vạn Thiên Phong glanced down at the man with a look that wasn't anger, nor pity. Just pure disinterest.
"You say that like ruin hasn't already come."
With a lazy flick of his hand, a thin blade of dark Qi shot from his fingertips, piercing the man's skull cleanly. Silence followed.
From the shadows behind the throne hall, soft footsteps echoed. Bạch Tiêu Nhiên approached, her expression unreadable. Unlike the rest of the empire, she was untouched—clean, graceful, almost ethereal in the crimson dusk.
"You didn't have to kill him. He was already dying."
Phong didn't look at her.
"Then I did him a favor."
"Is that what you call it now?" she asked. "Mercy through execution?"
He rose from the throne and walked past her without a word. She turned and followed him through the desolate corridor, their footsteps the only sound in the once-bustling palace.
"I saw the reports," she said. "Over ten thousand dead in this city alone. Innocents. Children."
He stopped walking. Slowly, he turned to face her, his eyes glowing with quiet wrath.
"And where was your precious justice when I was buried alive by those 'innocents'? When the so-called righteous dragged me through the streets like a dog?"
She said nothing. He stepped closer, until they were face to face.
"You want me to feel guilty? To weep for a city that cheered when I was cast out?" He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Let it burn."
She looked away, but didn't leave.
Phong turned back toward the balcony. From the high tower, he gazed down upon his conquered capital. Smoke rose from broken buildings. The Phoenix Banner, once proud and golden, now lay in ashes. In its place fluttered a flag of black and red—his.
"You could still stop," Tiêu Nhiên said quietly. "You could leave this path. It's not too late."
He chuckled.
"You still don't understand, do you? I'm not walking this path. I am the path."
---
Far away, across mountains and seas, the Divine Cloud Sect held an emergency meeting.
"The Dragon Gate is opening," Elder Mộc announced grimly. "And Vạn Thiên Phong is growing stronger by the day."
A hush fell over the hall. The other elders shifted uneasily.
"No one has ever twisted Qi like that," said Elder Yên. "His very presence bends reality. He's defying the heavens themselves."
"He must be stopped," Elder Mộc slammed his staff. "Before he becomes unstoppable."
"But how?" another elder asked. "He defeated the Immortal Sword Saint. Destroyed the Heaven's Binding Formation. He's not a man. He's a calamity."
There was silence. No one had an answer.
And above them, the sky began to crack.
---
Back in the conquered capital, Phong sat alone atop the Nightspire, the highest tower in the empire. The wind tore at his robes, but he remained still, meditating in the lotus position, dark energy swirling around him.
Suddenly, the sky above shimmered. A massive tear appeared—golden, divine, radiant.
A booming voice thundered:
"THE DRAGON GATE HAS OPENED. THOSE CHOSEN BY HEAVEN, STEP FORWARD TO ASCEND."
The heavens themselves had issued the call. Across the world, cultivators fell to their knees, gazing at the divine light.
But Vạn Thiên Phong simply opened his eyes.
His lips curved into a smirk.
"Finally."
He stood, his silhouette outlined against the roaring sky. Behind him, Bạch Tiêu Nhiên appeared, her face pale with shock.
"This is your chance," she said. "You can ascend—leave this madness behind."
He turned to her, eyes burning.
"I have no intention of ascending."
She blinked. "What?"
"I will not walk their path. I will not beg the heavens for power. I will take it."
He raised his hands. The ground trembled.
From the depths of the earth, a massive lotus of black flame emerged, each petal larger than a house. The Divine Qi from the Dragon Gate trembled, then began to warp, twist—corrupt.
The cultivators around the world gasped in horror. The Dragon Gate—symbol of purity—began to decay.
And then they heard it. A second voice. One not divine, but ancient. Dark. Final.
"A VILLAIN SHALL NOT ASCEND... HE SHALL CONSUME."
The gate shattered.
Light exploded into chaos. The sky bled shadow. The entire continent felt the pulse of corrupted power.
Bạch Tiêu Nhiên fell to her knees. "What have you done…"
Vạn Thiên Phong stood in the center of it all, arms raised, absorbing the essence of the heavens.
"I've rewritten the rules," he said softly. "The heavens cast me out. So I'll build my own throne. From their corpses."
---
In the aftermath, the world changed.
The Dragon Gate was no more. The chosen ones scattered, powerless. The balance of cultivation tipped.
New sects rose in the shadows—followers of Phong's ideology. Not light, not dark. Just power.
He became more than a man. He became a symbol.
A god born not from blessing—but from rejection.
---
Later, alone in the ruins of the temple where he first died, Phong stood before a cracked mirror.
He saw his old self—a scared, broken youth with nothing.
And then he saw what he had become—powerful, feared, unmatched.
He clenched his fist.
"They made me this way."
Behind him, Tiêu Nhiên appeared once more. Her expression was softer now. Not angry. Just… tired.
"Where will it end?"
He didn't look back.
"When the world remembers that villains don't ask for mercy… they take destiny by the throat."
---
[End of Chapter 17]