The wind howled over the peak of a desolate mountain.
A man stood alone at its summit, gazing down at a world once brimming with harmony—lush forests, vibrant cities, laughter, and life. But now, all that remained was ruin. The earth lay scorched and broken. The skies bled rust. Below him, the mountain's slopes were littered with corpses, twisted in death, their faces forever etched with terror, greed, and rage.
He was the last.
The final human in a world he had torn apart with his own hands. Victory should have tasted sweet. Instead, he felt… nothing.
No joy.
No pride.
Just silence.
A hollow silence deeper than death.
Suddenly—
**DING.**
A clear chime echoed behind him. Soft. Almost divine.
He did not turn. He kept his eyes on the devastation below—his monument of destruction. The grandeur of annihilation.
Then he spoke, voice calm, like an emperor at the end of all things.
> "I was waiting for you."
From the shadows behind him, a figure emerged—neither man nor beast. Its presence bent reality itself. Its form was unclear, ever-shifting, yet it radiated authority.
The being paused, regarding the man.
> "I am the Creator," it said. "Congratulations. You've won. You stand above all. Tell me your wish."
But the man did not answer immediately. His gaze remained distant.
> "Do you know why I alone survived?" he said at last, voice soft but cold. "Why none of them—no matter how powerful, noble, or wise—could succeed?"
The Creator waited.
> "Because they clung to illusions. Fame. Glory. Laws. Morality. Reputation. Beauty. Love. These were their shackles—chains disguised as strength. They believed such things gave them purpose. But for those with true vision, they are nothing more than tools... or bait."
He exhaled slowly, as if casting off the last thread of a dream.
> "You offer me a wish? Interesting…"
His mind wandered—back to a younger self. A mortal once bound by weakness, craving power. Craving meaning.
A memory stirred: *Reverend Insanity.*
And within it—a man like no other.
> *Fang Yuan.*
Cold. Ruthless. Unshakable. A being of terrifying willpower and intellect.
Fang Yuan, whose pursuit of immortality knew no compromise. For his goal, he could be a savior… or a monster. Compassion, love, loyalty—all masks. He planned for every variable. Trusted no one. Sacrificed anything. A true demonic cultivator who defied Heaven itself.
In him, the man saw not just a character, but a mirror.
A spark ignited in his eyes.
> "Then… I wish to enter the world of *Reverend Insanity.*"
The Creator tilted its head. Then, it laughed—a deep, echoing laugh that shook the mountain beneath them.
> "Hahahahahaha! Very well. Tell me when. And what else?"
The man's expression turned resolute.
> "Send me at the moment of Fang Yuan's **third rebirth**, during the **Three Kings Inheritance**. I want **all of Fang Yuan's memories and experiences** integrated with mine."
He reached into his coat and revealed a cold, metallic disc—shining with cryptic symbols.
> "This is a system fragment. I claimed it from a fool I once defeated. It served me well. Integrate it with me."
The Creator snapped its fingers.
> "Done."
In an instant, the man's body dissolved into stardust.
His soul drifted through the primordial void, a sea of swirling chaos. Ahead, a tiny white sphere pulsed—expanding with infinite density. The true world. He flew toward it, faster than thought, until it engulfed him.
Then came the River of Time.
He saw it clearly—an endless current of fate and memory. Within it, a single boat sailed upstream. Inside it sat a soul: **Fang Yuan**—carrying all the knowledge, pain, and ruthlessness of two lifetimes.
The man's soul merged into the boat. A brilliant white light burst forth, as if Heaven itself recoiled. But Heaven's Will could not resist—he was already protected, shielded by power born outside this world.
The boat struck a droplet in the river—then vanished.
A moment later, he opened his eyes.
The world had changed.