Smoke curled from the shattered sigils above the Hollow Empire. The divine light had faded—but the scent of burnt heavens lingered.
On the highest spire of the capital, Liu Shen stood still, eyes closed, his body absorbing the last fragments of the adjudicators' authority. Each fragment shimmered—law, judgment, truth—now warped and drawn into his core.
Beneath him, the empire's cultivators did not cheer. They watched in awe… and fear.
Because the one who defied the heavens no longer felt mortal.
He felt like a truth that should not exist.
---
Deep beneath the capital, far below the Soul-Thread Vault, the Abyss pulsed.
The Second Beacon now fully awakened, its obsidian glow spread through the veins of the underground like blood in a beating heart. Kael, the forsaken general, knelt before it, his hand pressed to the stone.
"My king has returned," he whispered.
At his side, other figures stirred—remnants of the old army, souls who had been locked in stasis, sealed by divine edicts. One by one, they opened their eyes.
Not all remembered their names.
But they all remembered the war.
---
Yu Meixing stood at the ruins of the Heart Loom's core, her breathing uneven. She had held the formation until the very end, fusing soul-threads and resisting divine backlash. Her body trembled now—not from pain, but awakening.
The Ninth Shadow was fully born.
A long-lost technique emerged within her mind: Thread of Silent Heaven—a soul-binding art used to sever fate itself.
"I can… see their threads," she whispered. "The ones watching us."
Her eyes turned upward—past the clouds, past the shattered sky.
"They still look down."
---
In the shadow of the imperial palace, Lei Qing emerged from the flames of battle. Though bloodied, his eyes burned with clarity.
"The Abyss rises," he said to himself, watching the dark clouds gather—not from the heavens, but from within the earth.
"The old war… it's not over. It never was."
He raised his spear toward the horizon. "We're just waking up."
---
At the Abyssal threshold, Liu Shen arrived.
He stepped into the depths, where the Second Beacon pulsed like a black sun. Kael and the other awakeners bowed.
"Ten generals," Liu Shen said softly. "Nine fell. You remained."
Kael lifted his head. "And I remember them. Their names, their vows, their deaths."
He placed a relic in Liu Shen's hand—a broken crest, once worn by the First General.
"Find the others, Sovereign. The Abyss… still holds their echoes."
Liu Shen's eyes narrowed. "Then it's time."
---
At the edge of the Abyss, the walls trembled.
A door long sealed by the heavens began to crack—its frame built of divine bone, its lock forged from fate itself.
It bore the ancient name:
Prison of the Fallen Vow
Liu Shen reached for it.
And the door—centuries unyielding—opened.
A single whisper greeted him from the dark beyond:
"My king… you finally returned."