The wind of the Deadwood Forest howled with madness, its ancient dunes twisted by the fury of gods and ghosts. Sand danced in cyclones around charred stones, the shattered remnants of an old battlefield long forgotten. And at its eye, amidst rising storms and echoing cries of the fallen, Dao Wei stood—battered to the core, but still standing.
His robes were shredded to ribbons, soaked in his own blood and the dust of endless battle. The silver halo behind him flickered like a dying star, and the six elemental orbs around him dimming with each breath he took.
'I'm burning out,' Dao Wei thought, teeth clenched. 'Every technique is cutting into my bones. Every movement is like a raging fire.'
Across from him, one of the Nirvana powerhouses stepped forward—the tall figure clad in thunder-black armor. His eyes burned with divine Qi.
"You should've just given up when you had the chance," he sneered. "But I'll finish the job soon."
Dao Wei's grip tightened around Skyfall, the silver hilt humming softly in his palm. The earth quaked beneath him as he summoned the last vestiges of his martial soul.
"Come then," he rasped. "Let's see if the Nine Sins taught you how to die with honor."
However, the flame-armored one roared, vanishing in a blur. Dao Wei's blade moved on instinct, parrying the strike with the side of his sword, sparks flying in every direction. The air cracked like lightning.
Bang! Bang!
Dao Wei stumbled back, coughing blood. He traced a symbol in the air with his free hand—a formation rune etched into light itself.
"Heaven's Grasp Formation," he whispered.
Lines of radiant energy shot into the ground. Chains of pure Qi erupted from beneath the sand, ensnaring the Nirvana powerhouse's limbs. For a heartbeat, he froze.
Dao Wei didn't waste the chance.
Clang!
With a surge of lightning from his Thunder Orb, he burst forward and drove his sword into the man's side. The blade met resistance—a divine barrier flaring.
"Tch!" Dao Wei grunted.
The man howled, forcing himself free, shattering the chains.
"You'll pay for that!" he bellowed, palm raised.
"Divine Palm of Sundering Skies!"
Rumble!
A wall of force descended like a mountain. Dao Wei crossed his arms, elemental orbs spinning to form a barrier of lightning, water, metal, and darkness. The forest cracked, and a sandstorm exploded outward.
Boom!
Dao Wei was thrown back, landing hard. His vision blurring slightly.
'Fuck. My body's breaking… I can't keep this up. But I can't stop. Not yet."
Then the whisper returned—stronger, clearer.
"Your path is beyond this world. Step forward..."
Dao Wei gasped, not from pain but recognition. The voice was old, ancient as time itself. It felt like the first voice ever spoken in the cosmos, sending a shiver down his spine.
'Who are you?' he asked in his mind.
"You are the last gate. Descend and be reborn."
The moment was shattered as the second Nirvana pursuer jumped in, leaping into the battle with a thunderous stomp that caused the ground to ripple, his axe crackling with rage.
Boom!
Dao Wei struggled to his feet.
"Two against one. How noble," he muttered, blood trickling from his lip.
The two laughed.
"We don't care about honor," the thunder-armored one sneered. "Only victory."
Dao Wei raised his hand. The earth below him lit with forgotten runes.
Rumble!
"Formation of the Wandering Saints."
Nine ancient figures appeared, phantoms with spectral swords, surrounding him in a circle. They blocked the first attacker with synchronized swings, while Dao Wei focused on the thunder-armored guy.
With a roar, he flared his Dark Orb.
Poof!
He vanished.
"Shadow Step—Silent Gale."
Dao Wei appeared behind the flame-armored one and struck a precise blow at his back. The titan twisted, barely catching it with his weapon, but the force still sent him skidding.
Bang!
Dao Wei coughed again. His vision blurred.
"Still not enough. I need more. I need..."
Whoosh!
"Descend, and be reborn."
His body pulsed.
Golden veins lit across his skin. His hair fluttered even though no wind touched him, and the elemental orbs flared brighter, crackling with raw chaos.
The phantoms held the line as Dao Wei darted forward, Skyfall spinning violently, unleashing Heaven's Ruin—Sixth Slash.
Rumble!
A whirlwind of slashes erupted, carving the desert floor into glass before descending like heaven's wrath.
Boom!
The thunder-armored man stumbled, arm bleeding.
The axe-wielder roared, now defensive. 'He's evolving,' the titan thought. 'Mid-battle... how is that even possible?'
Dao Wei exhaled. And his Dark God side stirred once more.
Rumble!
Dao Wei held it back—barely.
"Not yet. Not this time. I will not lose myself. Not like this."
He looked at the enemies before him.
"If I fall, I fall with a sword in my hand," he said, his voice a whisper in the storm.
"And if I rise..."
He raised his blade.
"You will never see daylight again."
The winds of the Deadwood Forest howled like forgotten gods mourning the death of time. Coarse grains of red-gold sand whipped across Dao Wei's face as he staggered forward, each step dragging as if the earth itself sought to clutch at his ankles. His breath was ragged, every inhale tasting of blood and dust. Behind him, echoes of battle still rumbled—not thunder, but the tremors of ancient powers stirred in rage.
His robes were nothing but rags now, fluttering in uneven strips like burnt flags in the wind. Blood marked a crimson trail behind him, staining the golden desert. His silver halo had long since flickered into near nothingness, elemental orbs sputtering like dying stars around his form. And still, he ran.
Whoosh!
Each stride was a cry against fate.
He leaped over a jagged dune, landing in a low roll that sent pain shooting up his ribs. The wound was deep. One of the Nirvana powerhouses had cracked something vital. But he didn't stop. Couldn't. Not now.
Ahead, the land changed.
The golden sands faded into gray earth, and then into bone-white stone. The temperature dropped. The air grew still. Not calm—but lifeless. The horizon trembled as Dao Wei beheld it:
A vast basin carved by forgotten calamities filled not with sand, but with petrified trees that jutted out like skeletal fingers. Jagged cliffs ringed the valley like the ribs of a dead god. And in the center of it all, where the sun dared not touch, was the gaping maw of the Bottomless Abyss.
Dao Wei's eyes widened as he slowed, finally halting at the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley. The wind blew his hair back, revealing a face smeared with ash, blood, and the haunting shine of resolve.
He fell to one knee, coughing violently. A memory flashed—Liu Mingxia smiling at him under the peach blossoms. The Sword God Sect's banners rising in unity. Huang Ling's eyes the last time she looked at him without words. All gone.
He touched the earth, grounding himself.
"So this is it..." he murmured.
The earth below vibrated—distant footsteps.
The Demon Sect was relentless, they had brought out everyone capable for the hunt.
A voice—whispered not in his ear but in his soul—spoke once again, steady now, unyielding:
"Your path is beyond this world. Step forward... Descend…Descend."
Dao Wei stood. He tightened his grip around Skyfall, whose blade shimmered with a faint pulse as if sharing his resolve. The storm behind him still chased, but the abyss ahead called.
Death Valley. The name wasn't just for show. This was where souls vanished, where legends ended. None who entered the Bottomless Abyss had ever returned.
He took a breath.
"Let them chase," he said quietly. "I was never meant to walk the same road."
A final look behind. He saw the silhouettes atop the cliffs—hunters with greedy eyes, swords drawn, energy charged.
Dao Wei smiled, a sad but resolute grin.
The wind screamed past him. Past twisted trees and broken monuments. Past bones of forgotten titans and the ancient runes of gods who no longer ruled.
The skies above Deadwood Forest churned, thick with black clouds that spiraled like smoke from the mouths of ancient titans. Thunder groaned in the belly of heaven. Crimson lightning forked across the sky, casting wild shadows across the jagged cliffs and bone-white ravines below.