Death did not come gently.
It arrived as a tearing sensation—like something invisible had hooked into Xu Yuan's soul and ripped it out of the darkness by force. Consciousness returned not with peace, but with pain so sharp and all-consuming that it drowned out every other thought.
His chest heaved violently.
Air burned as it entered his lungs, thick and acrid, laced with the stench of iron, decay, and scorched earth. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, each pulse sending waves of agony through his shattered body.
Xu Yuan opened his eyes.
Above him was no sky he recognized.
The heavens were dyed a deep, oppressive crimson, streaked with black fissures that resembled wounds torn open in the firmament itself. Ash drifted downward in slow spirals, like the remnants of a burned world refusing to rest. There was no sun, no moon—only a dim, blood-colored glow that illuminated the land in a sickly half-light.
"This…" Xu Yuan whispered hoarsely.
His throat felt as if it had been scraped raw. Even speaking a single word hurt.
"This isn't Earth."
Memory surged.
Not his own at first—but the remnants of another life, violently forced into his awareness.
A vast world far above this one.
A palace that floated among clouds formed of pure energy. Pillars carved from divine jade. Thrones shaped by authority itself.
And then—
Judgment.
A woman stood before him, her expression cold and distant. Her beauty was flawless, ethereal, yet her eyes held no warmth at all. Frost gathered around her fingertips as she raised her hand.
"You are unworthy of this bloodline."
Those words echoed even now.
Xu Yuan clenched his fists.
The memory shifted.
A man seated upon a throne of immense power, his presence enough to make entire worlds bow. The man did not look at him. Not even once.
"Throw him in."
That was all.
No anger. No regret.
Just indifference.
The original owner of this body—this abandoned son—had been crippled and cast into a world of hell, his cultivation destroyed, his fate sealed. He had survived only a short while after that, his broken body unable to endure the cruelty of this place.
Then he had died.
And Xu Yuan had taken his place.
A slow breath escaped Xu Yuan's lips.
"So that's how it happened," he murmured.
There was no anger in his voice. No grief. Only a quiet, profound calm.
He had lived one life already. He had died once before, back on Earth, without ceremony or meaning. Compared to that, betrayal by divine parents felt almost… expected.
Xu Yuan pushed himself upright.
Pain exploded through his body.
His vision darkened, and he nearly collapsed back onto the cracked ground. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remain conscious as the agony spread like fire through his limbs.
His body was ruined.
That much was immediately clear.
He lowered his gaze, examining himself with a detached expression. His frame was thin, riddled with old wounds and scars that had never properly healed. Worse than that, however, was what he felt inside.
His cultivation foundation was gone.
Not damaged.
Gone.
Meridians shattered beyond repair. Dantian reduced to little more than a hollow shell. Whatever power this body had once possessed had been destroyed deliberately, with surgical precision.
Xu Yuan let out a soft, humorless laugh.
"So thorough," he said quietly. "You really didn't want to leave anything behind, did you?"
The wind howled across the hellish plains, carrying with it distant, inhuman roars.
Xu Yuan's gaze sharpened.
This world was not empty.
He scanned his surroundings. Jagged black rocks jutted out of the earth like broken teeth. Pools of dark, viscous liquid steamed faintly, radiating a deathly heat. The land itself felt hostile, as if it rejected life outright.
Information surfaced in his mind—fragmented at first, then clearer.
This was a Hell World.
A low-level one.
Here, the energy that permeated existence was not pure Qi, but a corrupted mixture steeped in death, slaughter, and decay. Cultivating Qi in such an environment would rot the foundation of any human cultivator, turning them into little more than a walking corpse.
Body cultivation was the only viable path.
Xu Yuan absorbed the information calmly.
"Figures," he muttered.
As if responding to his presence, movement stirred nearby.
From behind a cluster of rocks emerged several grotesque figures. Their bodies were twisted and malformed, skin cracked and blackened as though burned from within. Their eyes glowed faintly with feral hunger.
Monsters.
Non-grade monsters—the weakest of their kind.
Yet even so, Xu Yuan knew the truth.
In his current state, they were stronger than him.
One of the monsters let out a guttural snarl, its jaw unhinging wider than should have been possible. Another scraped its claws against the ground, inching closer.
Xu Yuan did not panic.
Instead, he looked down at his right hand.
There, wrapped around his finger as if it had always belonged there, was a ring.
It was ancient, dark, and utterly unremarkable at first glance. No runes adorned its surface. No visible aura leaked from it. And yet, staring at it for too long made his thoughts slide away, unable to grasp its full nature.
The ring felt… wrong.
Not malicious.
Just incompatible with the world.
As his consciousness brushed against it, something stirred deep within him.
Then a voice echoed in his mind.
[System initializing…]
Xu Yuan's eyes narrowed slightly, but he did not flinch.
[Soul synchronization complete.]
[Host confirmed.]
[Existence deviation detected.]
[Countermeasures deployed.]
A faint warmth spread from the ring, flowing through his body like a thin veil. The crushing pressure he had felt earlier—existence pressing down on him—eased just enough for him to breathe more freely.
Xu Yuan exhaled slowly.
"So you're the reason I'm still here," he said softly.
[System activated.]
Information did not flood his mind violently. Instead, it unfolded in clean, structured layers, each piece settling into place naturally.
He learned where he was.
He learned why this world was dangerous.
And most importantly—
He learned what needed to be done first.
[Warning: Bloodline contamination detected.]
[Karmic links active.]
Xu Yuan's expression turned cold.
"So even now," he murmured, "you're still connected to them."
The blood that flowed through this body did not belong to him. It was a chain—a lingering shackle tying him to those who had cast him aside.
Xu Yuan did not hesitate.
"Remove it," he said.
There was no anger in his voice. No emotion at all.
Just certainty.
[Bloodline severance possible.]
[Cost: 10,000 System Points.]
[Insufficient balance.]
[System advance available.]
Xu Yuan's lips curved slightly.
"How generous."
[Advance granted.]
[Debt established: 50,000 System Points.]
[Warning: Process is irreversible and extremely painful.]
Xu Yuan closed his eyes.
"Do it."
The world vanished.
Pain unlike anything he had ever experienced tore through him.
It was not physical pain alone. It was as if something fundamental was being ripped out of his existence—threads of fate, blood, and destiny being torn away one by one. His body convulsed, veins bulging as dark mist seeped out of his pores.
He screamed.
The sound was raw, animalistic, stripped of all composure.
Minutes passed.
Or perhaps hours.
Time lost meaning in the agony.
Finally, it ended.
Xu Yuan collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath. His body trembled uncontrollably, drenched in cold sweat.
[Bloodline severance complete.]
[Karmic ties removed.]
Xu Yuan lay there, staring at the crimson sky.
Then he laughed.
A quiet, breathless laugh.
"So this is what freedom feels like," he whispered.
Movement caught his attention.
The monsters had crept closer during his ordeal, drawn by the scent of blood and weakness. One lunged.
Xu Yuan rolled to the side instinctively. Claws tore into the ground where his head had been moments earlier.
Something lay half-buried nearby.
A sword.
Broken. Ancient. Its blade chipped and scarred, radiating no obvious power.
Xu Yuan reached for it.
The moment his fingers closed around the hilt, pain surged up his arm like lightning.
[Warning: Host body cannot withstand Law resonance.]
His vision swam as fragments of understanding flashed through his mind.
Sharp.
Cold.
Unyielding.
Sword Law.
Even the faintest trace was too much for his shattered body.
Xu Yuan gritted his teeth and released the blade, breathing heavily.
"So I can touch the Law," he murmured, "but not bear it."
The monster lunged again.
Xu Yuan grabbed the sword once more.
Pain exploded through him—but this time, he did not let go.
He moved.
The blade flashed.
The monster's head fell to the ground.
Blood sprayed across the cracked earth.
Silence followed.
For a brief moment, an invisible pressure rippled outward.
The remaining monsters froze.
Fear.
Then it vanished.
Xu Yuan straightened slowly, gripping the broken sword tightly.
[Latent aura detected.]
[Accumulation minimal.]
He ignored the notification.
Instead, he looked out across the hellish landscape.
"If this world is where I was meant to die," he said calmly, "then I'll make it my foundation instead."
The ring on his finger pulsed faintly.
Far above, beyond this hell, existence itself trembled—unaware of what it had just allowed to begin.
________________________
Author Note
This is the beginning of Self-Origin: The Immortal Who Devours Worlds.
Everything grows from here—body, law, worlds, disciples, and fate itself.
If you enjoyed this chapter, your comments, votes, and support help this world continue to expand.
Thank you for reading.