The Splendid Jade City, Yùhuá Chéng.
"Wake up! Wake up!" A little child's voice called out, shaking the fragile, pale immortal sleeping outside the city library.
The immortal yawned and opened his eyes. "Little boy? I already asked for permission to sleep here. Can you stop bothering me? Go away."
"The Dark Realm is here!" the child cried. "Run!"
A huge, deafening BOOM shook the ground. The air vibrated. The immortal shot up, grabbing the child in one fluid motion. "Let's get out of here," he said, already running, carrying the boy.
He sprinted through the panicked streets, dodging spells and didn't stop until he reached the towering gates of the Light Palace. He set the child down. "Go in. You will be safe there."
Palace guards pulled the boy through the gate. Before he was fully inside, the child looked back at the lone immortal standing outside. "Aren't you going in?" he asked.
The immortal just shook his head, a small smile on his face. He watched the gates close, looked up at the golden sign that read "Light Palace," then looked down and walked away.
He jumped to the top of a nearby building, his movements light and silent.
Below, the city was a warzone. People fought in the streets. Buildings blasted apart.
He saw the library he'd been sleeping outside of crumble into a pile of smoking rubble. He sighed. "There goes another sleeping spot. The peaceful days are gone. Now I have to go to another city."
His stomach grumbled loudly. "Ah, I'm hungry." He checked his pockets. They were empty.
He jumped down and began searching the ground, his eyes scanning for anything edible. Nothing.
A 1900-year-old immortal who didn't even know how to cultivate, looking for scraps in the middle of a war. Pathetic.
Finally, he spotted it: a single, forgotten bun, covered in dust. He picked it up, carefully brushed it off, and brought it to his mouth.
FWOOSH!
A blast of dark energy hit the bun, turning it to ash in his hand. Two men in dark armor appeared, laughing.
"Seriously?" the first one sneered. "A big man like you still eats food like a mortal?"
"The Light Realm is so lame," the other one added, looking him up and down with contempt. "I can't believe they sent someone who hasn't even reached the Opening Stage to fight us."
They continued laughing, this time, louder.
The immortal was very, very angry. He looked at the two men from the Dark Realm not as soldiers, but as prey. As food. He slowly lifted his hand and pointed a single finger at the second man, the one who had just spoken.
Poof.
The man dissolved into a pile of black ash.
"My brother!" the first man cried, his laughter gone, replaced by pure terror. "Impossible! You… what did you do? Give me back my brother! Or else… or e-lse…" the man stammered, trembling uncontrollably.
"Or else what?" The immortal's voice was a whisper, suddenly right behind the poor soldier's ear. "H-how d-d…" the man trembled, not daring to turn.
"Here is what is going to happen," the immortal said calmly. "You are going to get me food. And I will turn your brother back to normal. How's that?"
The soldier didn't waste a second. He scrambled away, running for his life to look for food.
After he was gone, the immortal glanced at the pile of ash. With a flick of his wrist, the ash swirled and reformed.
"Ahhh!" the second soldier screamed, touching his body to confirm he was solid. "I'm still alive."
He stared at the immortal. "Where is my brother?"
"He went to get me food," the immortal replied.
"Oh," the soldier said, slowly calming down but refusing to meet the immortal's eyes.
"You-no i mean, Mr Immortal man. Hehehe. Please do not be offended about what we said earlier...We were just joking...yes, joking hehehe."
The immortal stared at the soldier and shook his head.
Suddenly, four more soldiers from the Dark Realm ran down the street. When they saw the immortal, they charged, weapons raised.
"Annoying." The immortal simply gazed at them, and they all dissolved into four piles of dust.
The remaining soldier gulped, wiping off the cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as he shook.
Another figure landed silently in the street. He was tall and imposing, radiating an ancient power. Líng Fēng, the 11 400-year-old legendary God of War. He looked at the piles of ash, then at the immortal.
"Gù Míng. Long time no see."
Gù Míng looked the man over. "Sorry, I don't know you."
Líng Fēng scoffed. "You are nothing but a dying man. Still arrogant?"
His eyes flicked to the terrified soldier. With a flash of movement, he attacked, his hand shaped into a unique finger claw technique aimed at the soldier's throat.
Gù Míng blocked the attack effortlessly without even looking at Líng Fēng.
He looked at the trembling soldier. "If your brother brings back terrible food," Gù Míng said flatly, "you will both die."
The God of War stared.
"Protecting someone from the Dark Realm? Do you want to rebel?" he shouted, his voice ringing with fury.
"Annoying," Gù Míng said, finally turning to face him.
"People die in wars. Perfect. If you die here, no one will bother me." As he spoke, the pupils of his eyes, normally black, began to glow a molten gold. He raised a finger, pointing it towards the general.
Just as he was about to unleash his power, a piercing scream cut through the air.
"AHHH! HELP!"
A woman in a palace maid's uniform came sprinting out of the Light palace dungeons, her face a mask of terror. "HE ESCAPED! HAN YUAN ESCAPED!"