In an underground volcanic chamber, Nyxarin floats cross-legged above a lake of magma, eyes closed in deep cultivation. Wisps of blazing energy rise from the molten surface and coil into his body. The air around him shimmers, light bending from the force of his divine mind realm aura.
A faint hum echoes through the tunnel as a small metal eye drifts into the chamber. It hovers silently, waiting.
Nyxarin's brow moves slightly—one of his eye puppets has returned. Has it found all my separated parts?
He opens his eyes. For an instant, they blaze gold with divine light before fading back to black. Slowly, he descends and lands on solid rock. With a flick of his hand, a wisp of black energy shoots into the puppet.
Runes bloom across the chamber walls. Metal gears and plates rise from the ground, spinning and fusing into the puppet's frame until it becomes a large, one-eyed construct with a mouth.
"Thank you, my lord," it says, voice mechanical yet trembling with reverence.
"Speak," Nyxarin commands.
"Lord, all your body parts have been found, but they are heavily guarded."
Nyxarin's lips curve faintly. "Good. My recovery draws near."
He steps closer, his gaze narrowing. "What about their reaction when they noticed some seals broken?"
"They panicked," the puppet answers. "They're searching everywhere. It's very likely they now know of your resurrection."
Nyxarin's eyes gleam with amusement. He can almost see his sister's pale face and his brother-in-law's fury. Then his expression sharpens. "And the new god I sensed—did you locate where its divinity is being conceived?"
The puppet hesitates, gears clicking softly. "Lord... the new god has already been born."
Nyxarin's divine pressure explodes, the magma below rippling like a storm-tossed sea. "Impossible!" he roars, his voice shaking the cavern. "The divine law of that new god was still in its nascent stage—how could it have been born already!"
He turns sharply toward the puppet. "Where is he?"
The puppet's gears grind nervously. "Lord, he is in the Tianren Sect… and he has been found by the evil gods' descendants."
Nyxarin's eyes narrow. "Tianren Sect? Then the new god is a human… not innate."
The puppet bobs its head. "Yes, my lord."
Nyxarin's expression hardens. His heart sinks with the weight of the worst possible news. For aeons, only innate gods—those born directly from the will of the world—could ascend to divinity. But if a human has achieved it through cultivation, then the balance is broken.
His jaw tightens. If humans can reach godhood, they won't stop at one. Others will follow. And the fear that keeps his subordinates loyal will fade, replaced by ambition.
He cannot allow that.
"What do you know of this human?" he demands.
"Nothing, my lord. He is… well protected."
Nyxarin's face twists in rage. "Then what use are you!"
A jet of black energy erupts from his palm. It blasts the puppet upward, shattering it against the ceiling. Metal shards rain into the magma below.
The cavern trembles. Nyxarin stands still, breathing heavily, black aura seething from his pores. His eyes burn with madness before he forces them shut.
He clenches his fists, grinding his teeth, and exhales slowly until the black aura coils back into his body. When he opens his eyes again, they are calm, cold and calculating.
"The side effects of the blood sacrifice still linger," he mutters.
Two thousand years ago, while wandering the world, Nyxarin had discovered an otherworldly crystal—one that pulsed with strange runes.
Within it, he sensed a new and unknown Law, unlike any divine principle he had ever touched. His strength had long stagnated, and the discovery consumed him.
He devoted himself entirely to comprehending that law, but progress was painfully slow.
In his impatience, he devised an array—a formation that used the life force of living beings as fuel to hasten his understanding. The Blood Sacrifice Array.
When he activated it, countless lives were drained to feed his enlightenment.
His power soared, but the blood energy corrupted his mind, twisting his thoughts and emotions.
His subjects rebelled in terror, and even his sister, his brother-in-law, and Fengli turned their blades against him.
Though they destroyed his body, he was an innate god—he could not die.
He survived by sacrificing himself, fragmenting his body and soul across the world to escape being sealed entirely.
It was a desperate choice but also deliberate, for the madness from the blood sacrifice had begun to devour his sanity.
He had hoped that reincarnation would purge the corruption, but when he awakened six hundred years ago, the side effects had merely weakened, not vanished.
So he made another choice. He split his consciousness in two.
One half carried his good thoughts—pure, calm, without memory or corruption.
The other half, himself, retained all his memories, ambition, and the lingering taint of the blood sacrifice.
His plan was simple: when the two halves merged again, the purity of the good consciousness would overwhelm the remnants of corruption, allowing him to become a perfect god.
But before his strength could return, a new threat appeared—the birth of another god.
"Tianren Sect," he murmurs, his gaze turning sharp. "To investigate, I must return home."
He steps out of the molten chamber. Night blankets the volcanic peaks.
Outside waits a black carriage pulled by four flesh-and-blood female puppets whose eyes glow dimly red. Nyxarin enters the carriage, and it rises smoothly into the sky, carried by the puppets' silent flight.
They travel through the night toward the Ren Kingdom. In this life, he is reborn as the eldest son of Duke Yuan, one of the four dukes of Ren Kingdom—a position offering both power and disguise.
Days later, the carriage crosses the border into the Ming Kingdom, a realm resting at the southeastern edge of the continent.
To its west lies the Qi Kingdom, to its north and northwest the Ren Kingdom, and to the northeast stands the Silver Treasure House.
The lands beyond its southern edge are swallowed by the demon territory.
As the carriage glides through mountain mist, a shadow flashes across the sky—a messenger bird descending swiftly.
It lands on the roof of the carriage and drops a sealed letter through the window.
Nyxarin catches it. The seal bears the Yuan family crest.
A message from his father.
As Nyxarin takes the letter, the messenger bird dissolves into faint wisps of spiritual energy—it had been conjured through magic.
He breaks the seal and reads. His father orders him to visit the Tang Kingdom to attend the preaching of the founder of a new cultivation system known as the Wizard Way.
The letter asks him to assess whether the Yuan family could win over this founder to their side.
Nyxarin's eyes narrow slightly.
A new cultivation system?
The note also mentions that the founder of this Wizard Way fought a member of the Twilight Clan—and did not lose.
That alone makes his expression darken with interest.
He sets the letter aside and releases his spiritual sense.
Above the carriage, a dozen eye puppets hidden in the clouds flicker to life, their vision flowing into his mind.
He scans their memories, reviewing scenes of the battle between the Wizard Way's founder and the Twilight Clan cultivator.
What he sees makes him frown deeply.
The founder's cultivation is only at the early Core Formation Realm, yet his power brushes the boundary of the Divine Mind Realm.
Another anomaly. Another human standing where only gods should stand.
His thoughts turn to the human who had given birth to divine power within the Tianren Mountains.
"I cannot allow another human to rise," he murmurs coldly.
The carriage lurches slightly as the puppets carrying it shift course. Rising higher into the clouds, they begin flying west, toward the Qi Kingdom—beyond which lies the Tang Kingdom, where the Wizard Way's founder awaits.
Far above the mortal world, on one of the floating islands within the sea of clouds, the royal throne room of the divine realm glows with golden light.
Sieana kneels before two radiant figures—the God of Dawn and the Goddess of Evening—whose thrones shine like twin suns.
"Rise, child," the Goddess says softly. "Tell us why you have requested this audience."
Sieana stands, lowering her head respectfully. "Mother Goddess, Father God, I have come to report the appearance of a mortal who calls himself the founder of the Wizard Way."
The God of Dawn tilts his head, his golden eyes bright with mild curiosity. "Wizard Way? A new cultivation path?"
"Yes," Sieana replies. "The founder intends to preach his method to the world in two weeks."
The Goddess frowns slightly, her tone calm but indifferent. "A mortal preaching a new path? That is no concern of ours. Why bring this matter to us?"
Sieana bows her head, her voice steady. "Mother Goddess, because this Wizard Way incorporates the Martial Way within it and mirrors the principles of the Qi Refiner path. If talented Qi Refiners capable of reaching the Divine Mind Realm begin cultivating this Wizard Way instead, then fewer souls will ascend as Divine Refiners. And without them, our Twilight Clan will face a population crisis."
Both the God and the Goddess frown, their expressions darkening slightly.
The God of Dawn asks, "Has this founder of the Wizard Way created any realm beyond the Divine Mind Realm?"
Sieana shakes her head. "From what I have heard, the highest realm of the Wizard Way is called the Holy Fetus Realm. It corresponds to the Divine Mind Realm of Qi Refiners."
The Goddess leans back on her throne, her voice calm. "Then there is nothing to worry about. Mortals have always reached their limits before the divine threshold."
Sieana hesitates. "Yet, for reasons I cannot explain, I feel he will accomplish the next realm—one beyond the Divine Mind Realm."
The God of Dawn is silent for a long moment, deep in thought. Then he speaks, "Very well. Attend the founder's sermon. Speak with him directly, and ask about the future of this Wizard Way. Go."
Sieana bows deeply. "Yes, Father God." She turns and leaves the hall, her heart still uneasy.
When her figure disappears beyond the golden doors, the Goddess of Evening exhales softly. "Sieana's concern is justified."
The God of Dawn nods. "It is. But we have greater matters to attend to."
His gaze drifts toward the sea of clouds beyond the divine palace. "The Night God has reincarnated… and he is already making his moves. We still haven't located my sister's reincarnation. Without her, we cannot face him."
He pauses, his divine eyes narrowing slightly. "And there is another matter. A human in the Tianren Sect—only eighteen years of age, cultivation at the peak of Qi Refining—yet he bears divinity within him."
The Goddess's brows knit. "Divinity? In a mortal?"
"Yes," the God says quietly. "I have examined him thoroughly. I do not know whether he is the new god signalled by the world… or simply a mortal who consumed something imbued with divinity."
The light in the throne room dims slightly as the two gods fall into silence, their thoughts heavy with the realisation that the balance of heaven and earth is shifting once again.