The world was changing. Again.
It always had—empires rose, sects crumbled, blood was spilled, and time moved forward as if none of it mattered. But this time… the past refused to stay buried.
At Tianyuan Academy, the elders were in a frenzy.
The emergence of the demonic corpse-puppet in the Grand Tournament had rattled even the most composed cultivators. It wasn't just an attack—it was a message. A declaration of war from the shadows.
And Li Xuantian? He remained calm as ever. Too calm.
Yan Ruyue noticed it, how he would gaze at the moon or mountains for hours without blinking—how he would stand silently by the waterfall, as if waiting for something, or someone, to speak to him from the wind.
He wasn't just training.
He was listening to time.
---
In the middle of the academy's northern gardens, where the old spirit trees bloomed only once every hundred years, Yan Ruyue approached him again.
"You've been silent since the tournament," she said.
"There's nothing worth speaking about," he replied.
"But the elders think we should retaliate. Form a coalition of sects. Strike the demonic cults now before they gather strength."
Li Xuantian shook his head. "You cannot strike what hides in shadow."
"Then what should we do?"
He looked at her with a strange glint in his eyes. "Wait for them to make a mistake."
---
Later that night, a portal opened in secret beneath the academy. A realm long forgotten by even the oldest cultivators—a sealed chamber.
It was Xuantian's doing.
He had found it. Not by searching.
But because it called to him.
Inside lay remnants of an ancient battle: shattered weapons, broken talismans, and the fossilized skeleton of a beast so massive it could swallow palaces whole.
And beside it—embedded in the ground—was a single, black spear.
Its presence twisted the qi in the air. It radiated both power and despair.
Xuantian knelt before it.
"…So this is where you ended up," he whispered.
---
A memory surged through him.
One million years ago.
In the final war against the False Immortal, ten divine weapons were forged by the united sects of the old world. The Spear of Eternal Dusk was one of them, wielded by Xuantian's closest brother-in-arms—Wu Shen.
Wu Shen, who died buying time for Xuantian to complete the sealing ritual.
Xuantian clenched his fist.
> "I'm sorry, brother."
> "But I need your spear again."
He reached for it.
The spear pulsed—testing him.
It rejected him at first. He was, after all, just a mere Qi Condensation cultivator in the eyes of the modern realm.
But…
The Dao within him surged.
In that moment, the chamber trembled, and the spear flew into his hand like a loyal dog returning to its master.
---
When he exited the chamber, the night sky had changed.
A new star had appeared.
One that hadn't been seen for a million years.
The Demon Star.
Its reappearance was a sign: the seal holding the False Immortal was weakening faster than expected.
And someone, or something, was helping him from this side of the world.
---
By morning, the news had already reached the major sects.
The Cloudburst Pavilion, the Azure Flame Temple, and even the reclusive Sect of Silent Petals began to mobilize their forces.
But it wasn't unity.
It was panic.
Each sect was preparing for war in its own way—arming disciples, hoarding resources, sealing borders.
Li Xuantian watched it all with disdain.
"Cowards pretending to be wise," he muttered.
Yan Ruyue asked, "What will you do?"
"I will go to the Forbidden Mountains," he said.
She gasped. "That place is cursed. No one who enters returns."
"That's because it holds what the world wishes to forget."
> "And I must remember everything."
---
They departed that night—Xuantian and Yan Ruyue.
The journey was perilous. The Forbidden Mountains were a wound upon the world, where natural qi turned chaotic, illusions came alive, and time flowed erratically.
Beasts that had once ruled the ancient world still prowled here—immune to age, immune to death.
And in the heart of the mountains…
Lay the Grave of the Ten Thousand Sects.
---
It was a massive crater, filled with ruins—collapsed palaces, broken spirit towers, ancient banners buried in ash.
Here, one million years ago, the greatest battle between cultivators and demons had taken place. And this was the place where the price was paid.
Li Xuantian walked through the ruins like a man visiting a childhood home.
He remembered the names etched on every stone. Every sect that had stood with him.
And then he saw it.
The entrance to the Forgotten Vault.
The place where he had hidden his true core.
---
"Are you going to take it back?" Yan Ruyue asked.
Xuantian hesitated.
The Eternal Core was the key to his rise. A spiritual construct formed from countless lifetimes, refined into a core beyond mortal comprehension.
He had sealed it here to prevent the False Immortal from corrupting it.
And now, he would reclaim it.
He pressed his palm against the ancient gate.
The seal recognized him.
The vault opened.
And a blinding surge of energy burst forth.
---
His body convulsed as the core re-entered him. For a brief moment, his entire soul screamed. His cultivation foundation shattered… and rebuilt itself instantly.
The world twisted.
His eyes glowed with golden rings.
Yan Ruyue fell to her knees under the pressure.
When it ended, he was silent.
Then he whispered:
> "Qi Condensation… complete."
> "Foundation Establishment… complete."
> "Core Formation… complete."
> "Nascent Soul… complete."
He paused, then smirked.
> "Half-step Soul Ascension."
And it was only the beginning.
---
But as they turned to leave the Forbidden Mountains…
They were not alone.
From the shadows, masked cultivators appeared. Dressed in robes of midnight, bearing marks unfamiliar even to Xuantian.
But the aura they gave off… was not human.
A voice rang out from behind one of the masks.
> "The Reaper Sect sends its regards."
> "Your return is a threat to the balance. You must be eliminated."
---