Heaven's Ridge stood alone, high above the lands of men and sects, higher even than the soaring peaks of the Eastern Realms. No birds flew here. No beasts stirred. The clouds below drifted like oceans of mist, and the air above was thin and razor-sharp.
At the very summit, surrounded by ancient stone and withered offerings to long-forgotten gods, sat Li Shibai.
He knelt in meditation, his black robes rippling gently in the wind, a pool of stillness in a world otherwise trembling.
His hands rested on his knees, fingers slightly curled. His breathing was shallow, almost nonexistent. Spiritual energy from the world poured into him, crashing into his body like waves against an unbreakable cliff.
A golden light pulsed within his chest — his Core, now swollen beyond the limits of mortal flesh. Cracks had begun to form, not from weakness… but from transcendence.
He was crossing the threshold.
And yet, as he sat at the edge of ascension, Li Shibai did not call out any name.
He did not raise a banner, nor speak into the sky.
No challenge. No declaration.
Nothing.
Because in his mind, there was no one worth challenging.
"Why should I acknowledge them?""They sit upon thrones they did not earn. They cling to laws born from fear. I am not their equal. I am their correction."
A soundless pulse spread from Heaven's Ridge.
Across the world, cultivators of every realm stirred in alarm. In the Central Jade Empire, a Nascent Soul patriarch dropped his tea cup. In the Frozen Lotus Mountains, a secluded sect master opened eyes that hadn't seen daylight in two centuries.
The Bell was ringing again.
But not for war. Not for ceremony.
It rang because someone dared attempt the impossible.
BOOM…
The first toll thundered across the heavens.
BOOM…
The second, like a dragon's heartbeat.
By the fifth, even the Mystic Emperors turned their eyes.
In the Realm of Mirage, Empress Yeyu whispered, "He's not calling us?"
In the Domain of Death, Emperor Xi'Zhun furrowed his brow. "No challenge. No honor."
And in the Void of Silence, the black throne remained unmoved. Watching.
BOOM…
The ninth strike echoed.
The light around Shibai began to shift — no longer golden, but blinding white, radiant and terrible. His Core was now transparent, pulsing with the density of stars.
He opened his eyes.
There was no fear. Only contempt.
"The bell tolls for me," he murmured, "but I do not toll back."
BOOM…
The tenth strike.
Time froze.
The world waited.
Ten breaths.
Still, no name. No challenge. Not even a whisper.
Then the sky opened.
A tear formed in the air above Shibai — not in the clouds, but in reality itself. From that rent in the heavens, divine light descended, as fast as thought, as hot as a newborn sun.
Chains of judgment forged by the Will of the World shot downward — ten thousand threads of law, karma, and absolute authority.
A voice echoed across all realms:
"You have violated the Balance. You defy the Law of Five. You reach beyond without blood. You are judged."
Lightning slammed into the mountain like a blade from the heavens.
Shibai's body convulsed violently. The platform beneath him shattered into dust. The stone disintegrated. A crater formed in an instant, and within it — the young prodigy's body writhed in agony.
Veins burst. Bones cracked. His dantian imploded.
Yet… he did not scream.
He bit down on his tongue, blood running from his lips, and through the pain — he smiled.
"Is this… all… heaven dares send?"
Another bolt struck.
And this one was different.
It pierced through his soul.
He screamed then — not in pain, but rage. The sound tore through reality, a roar of unwillingness, of defiance that burned even in death.
His Core shattered entirely.
His spiritual roots withered.
His flesh charred to blackened ruin.
Far below, from the base of the mountain, Sect Master Tianyan stared in disbelief.
"No… no, you fool…" he whispered. "You didn't even challenge. You just— you just ignored them..."
Around him, watching elders wept or fell to their knees.
One disciple gasped, "Is… is Senior Brother Shibai… dead?"
Tianyan didn't answer.
He couldn't.
Because for the first time in centuries — the heavens had struck without mercy.
And the world had no words for what they had witnessed.
Back atop Heaven's Ridge, a smoldering corpse lay in a crater of glass and ash.
His eyes were open.
Empty.
The bell had fallen silent.
The sky was clear once more.
Birds returned to the air. The winds calmed. Balance, it seemed, had been restored.
But beneath the surface of the mountain, hidden from divine gaze, a single thread of black light pulsed.
It was not demonic. It was not righteous.
It was something primordial.
Something wrong.
And it moved toward the body of Li Shibai.
In the Realm of Death, Emperor Xi'Zhun frowned.
"I felt something…" he muttered.
Empress Nian narrowed her eyes. "He died. But not cleanly."
The Silent Emperor spoke one word.
"…Unfinished."
And on the ridge, as night fell, a voice — too quiet for the wind to carry — rasped through the broken throat of a man who should be dead:
"…Even gods… are not beyond defiance…"
A single heartbeat passed.
And the corpse twitched.