Chapter 1: Blood at Dawn
The dawn over the rebuilt world was quieter than it had been in centuries. From the shattered ruins of the former world order, a new age of cultivation had taken root. Under the guidance of Jian and Frostveil—two who had once been outcasts and enemies of the heavens—the lands had begun to breathe again. Across the five continents, cities emerged from rubble, sects merged and reorganized, and a central Academy was founded upon the ruins of the Spirit Valley: The Nexus of Rebirth.
The Nexus of Rebirth stood as a monument to the new world. Its architecture merged mortal ingenuity and immortal artistry, infused with runes and crafted with celestial ores once deemed unattainable. Students flocked to it—war orphans, reborn spirits, refugees from other dimensions—and began walking the Dao anew.
But peace is never eternal.
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The sun had just begun to rise when the ritual began.
In the Central Plaza of the Academy, 100 students were pulled from their training fields and dormitories, bound by invisible strands of divine law. A deep hum, like a thousand voices weeping from beyond the void, echoed through the air as space twisted and cracked. Frostveil, teaching an advanced Soul Dao course, immediately sensed it.
"A breach… from the Overrealm? No. This frequency—it's deeper. Older."
Jian stood at the peak of the Nexus, overseeing the training fields below when he felt it. The Sword Dao inside him flared like a beast snarling at an ancient predator.
A celestial rift opened above the Plaza.
Descending through it was a being shrouded in twisting energies of red, gold, and black. Not armor. Flesh made divine. His eyes were twin suns forged in the chaos of creation. In one hand, he held a relic blade carved from the bones of forgotten titans. In the other, a black orb pulsated with screaming souls.
"Let this act be the catalyst for remembrance," the being said, voice vibrating through the realm itself. "Let the gods reclaim their throne."
The students' bodies burst into streams of soul-essence as he held the orb aloft. With every soul absorbed, the orb pulsed brighter. Reality screamed.
Frostveil appeared first, blazing forward like a streak of frozen light. Her presence carried the echo of the Spirit King. "You've trespassed upon the world rebuilt by sacrifice. Speak your name, beast of the Heavens."
The figure turned slowly.
"I am Malek'tor, the First Sword of the Ninefold Pantheon. I am War Incarnate, the Blade of Retribution. And you… are dead."
Jian landed beside her, his aura already cracking the earth beneath him.
But they weren't alone.
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Five Cultivators emerged from the corners of the Nexus:
Lián Yuheng: A flame-born cultivator of the Phoenix Path, her Dao of Rebirth allowed her to conjure infernos that regenerated as they burned.
Kaen Veylan: Wielding the Gravity Dao, Kaen could collapse entire mountains with gestures. His inner world was a black star that devoured light and weight alike.
Seren Xu: An enigmatic Soul Path cultivator who'd once been dead—twice. She navigated the veil between life and death and controlled the Void Threads of passage.
Doru'an of Ironspire: Earth Dao Master whose inner world was a crystalline maze of mineral consciousness. He was the shield of the new world.
Akari Dain: Dual-wielder of Sound and Wind Dao, her presence was music and slaughter in harmony.
They stood beside Jian and Frostveil, their power harmonizing into a symphony of cultivated intent.
"You desecrate the sanctity of rebirth with your divine arrogance," said Yuheng, her flames dancing to life.
Malek'tor grinned. "Your defiance is noted... and discarded."
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The Battle:
Malek'tor unleashed his first technique—Culling of the Weeping Suns. Solar essence rained in spears, burning time and space.
Jian stepped forward. "Sword Dao: Binding Silence."
The spears paused—held midair—trembling.
Frostveil raised her hand. "Soul Dao: Shattered Reflection." Her spell splintered the spears and sent the broken light screaming back.
Akari and Kaen struck in tandem. A sonic boom reverberated as wind blades rode waves of inverted gravity into Malek'tor's chest. He staggered.
Malek'tor grinned and released his first inner world.
A field of ruin, where titans of stone bled molten light. His Destruction Dao began to eat away at the surroundings.
"This is only one," Jian muttered. "He has more."
And then Malek'tor released his second inner world—a Blood Star, spinning with the stolen essence of the 100 students. Their screams echoed in the minds of the living.
"Beasts of cultivation," Malek'tor said, "know despair."
He unleashed a wave of compressed souls. Frostveil caught it with both palms and screamed as it tore through her defenses.
But she did not fall.
"I remember now," she whispered, bleeding from her eyes. "Why I live. Why I must live."
From the Spirit King's core, her second Dao flared—Destruction. Not chaotic. Purposeful. Pure.
She stepped forward. "You took my people. I take your future."
Her blow erased part of Malek'tor's shoulder and the arm attached.
But he didn't retreat. He laughed.
And revealed his third inner world—a storm of screaming deities bound in chains, wailing prayers into unlistening voids.
His Worship Dao empowered him with every curse, every prayer, every act of reverence.
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To Be Continued…