The room was modest yet touched with quiet elegance. Moonlight filtered softly through the lattice window, casting silver shadows over Darian, who sat cross-legged on his bed. In his right hand rested a jade pendant, the deep red of freshly spilled blood — the Blood Dragon Jade.
Memories flickered in his mind like distant lanterns. They were ten years old, yet as sharp and unyielding as the day they had been forged. Silent companions through all his trials, they had shaped him, hardened him.
Part of why he had endured a decade in the shadows was because of this jade.
"Uncle Felric," Darian whispered, tracing his thumb over the smooth, dragon-carved surface, "this Blood Dragon Jade you left me… you once said, 'Blood Dragon Swallows the Moon.' For someone in the Mortal Purification Stage, it would bring unexpected fortune. What did you mean? What fortune lies inside you?"
Two days remained before the Battle of the Thousand Realms would begin. Darian planned to spend them unlocking the secret sleeping within this jade.
He knew as surely as he knew the beat of his own heart that something inside it was meant for him.
A low hum filled the air as his eyes sharpened. Without hesitation, he stirred the Warborn Qi within his meridians, sending it in a slow, steady stream into the jade. This was the method he had devised — though whether right or wrong, he had no choice but to try.
The energy seeped in, but nothing happened.
His brow furrowed.
"So… Heaven and Earth Yuan Power can't awaken you either."
He sat still, turning Uncle Felric's words over and over. They had not been spoken lightly. There was a key hidden here.
"Could it be blood refinement? No, that doesn't feel right."
His gaze blurred as thoughts churned like a grinding millstone.
Mortal Purification Stage… Spirit Core… Blood Dragon… Blood Dragon Swallows the Moon…
Then it struck him.
His breath caught. His eyes flared like twin stars.
"Yes, that's it!"
Silver light shimmered behind him as he summoned his Spirit Core — a faint, luminous orb, serene and steady — the mark of one who had stepped into the Mortal Purification Stage.
"Blood Dragon Swallows the Moon… the Spirit Core is the moon. If the Blood Dragon is the jade, then…"
Without a moment's hesitation, Darian tossed the jade straight into the silver glow.
It sank in, vanished, yet did not fall through. His heartbeat quickened.
A ripple stirred inside the Spirit Core, faint at first, then growing stronger, like a tide swelling toward shore.
ROAR!
An ancient dragon's cry split the silence. Blood-red light burst forth!
A creature emerged from the silver moon — its body serpentine, scales gleaming crimson, eyes pools of lethal intent. A Blood Dragon.
Before Darian could react, it opened its jaws and swallowed his Spirit Core whole.
The world exploded.
A distant voice reached him — urgent, desperate — but was swallowed by a blinding flash. When the glare faded, Darian found himself adrift in endless, dead blackness.
Cold. Silent. Vast.
Far away, lonely stars pulsed faintly, scattered like dying embers.
"This… is the universe?" he whispered.
He felt as small as a grain of dust. The darkness was ancient and boundless, crushing thought itself. His body hung suspended, unmoving, as if locked outside time.
Suddenly —
A light flared in the distance.
A roar followed — deep, thundering, godlike.
"The three of you think you can kill me? Nine Nines Return as One! Step by Step Lotus Bloom — Nine Heavens Sacred Lotus!"
The void bloomed.
A pure white lotus unfolded petal by petal — nine in all — its holy radiance tearing through time itself. It met the palm, the fist, and the killing light head-on.
The clash shattered constellations, scattering starlight across tens of thousands of miles.
Had Darian been anything more than a phantom observer, he would have been erased utterly.
When the brilliance faded, he saw them — the three who had unleashed that cataclysm.
A golden-armored giant, nine feet tall, skin and aura blazing like the sun.
A figure wreathed in black demonic flame, chains writhing about him.
A plain-robed man whose presence was a twisting, suffocating void.
Darian etched each into his memory.
Then he looked beyond them — and his breath caught.
There, standing alone against the storm, was a middle-aged man — handsome, pale-faced, eyes black and white as clear as a still pond.
Darian's vision blurred with tears.
"Uncle Felric…"
The man who had raised him. The man he had yearned to see for ten long years.
He struggled against his strange imprisonment, desperate to move, to reach him — but could only watch.
The four figures swept past.
Uncle Felric's eyes met his — and for the briefest moment, the man smiled.
On his back was a small boy, wrapped in light.
A boy of two or three, fists waving in outrage at their pursuers.
A boy Darian suddenly, horribly recognized.
It was himself.
The vision tore at his heart. He knew this was more than a decade ago. That faint smile from Uncle Felric was no accident — it was meant for him.
Then the universe shook again. The four vanished into the void, swallowed by darkness.
Darkness claimed his sight. The world spun —
Darian gasped, finding himself back in his room, drenched in sweat. The jade lay on the floor.
He summoned the Spirit Core and threw the jade into it —
Clink.
It passed through harmlessly.
The method no longer worked.
He sank to the floor, silent tears tracing down his cheeks. Men did not cry easily, only when grief was carved into their very bones.
A long sigh whispered through his mind. Then — light erupted within his consciousness.
When it faded, a lotus bloomed there.
Nine petals. Pure. Radiant.
"Divine Ability… Nine Heavens Sacred Lotus."