"Go on, then—strike me down. But know this: the moment you do, I'll become something your precious system can never rank, never erase, and never control."
— The Nameless One
The sky above the Oblivion Plateau was a wounded canvas streaked with violet scars, bleeding stardust, and crying embers of fallen realms. Winds howled like the mourning dead, carrying with them the whispers of gods who once ruled this corner of eternity.
And at the center of it all stood a man or what remained of one.
His back was straight. His white hair drifted gently with the wind like threads of ash. The long cloak he wore was torn at the edges, smeared with the blood of divine and mortal alike. His armor, once radiant obsidian etched with ten glowing seals, now lay in fragments at his feet. The gauntlet on his right arm cracked and flickering still held the faint echo of a thousand wars.
Before him stood It a being wrapped in brilliance and boundless stillness. A god not born of time but of order itself. Its form shimmered with pure law, faceless and vast, towering like a statue carved from judgment.
And yet the man did not raise his weapon.
He knelt.
The world held its breath.
Around the Plateau, other gods hovered spectral and celestial, halos spinning like blades. Watchers. Judges. Executioners. They waited for the command, their blades already weeping light.
But the kneeling man spoke.
His voice was low. Tired. And impossibly heavy.
"I will not kill you."
A tremor rippled through the divine. The silent god's halo dimmed. The sky shuddered.
"I have killed ten thrones. I have shattered stars with my fists. I have broken the will of kings who thought themselves eternal. And yet… I will not raise my hand against you."
Lightning cracked like a broken scream.
The gods stirred confused. Alarmed. Disbelieving.
"I know what this means," the man continued, lowering his head. "To show mercy… to kneel instead of conquer… is to defy the very system that gave me power. So let it be."
He opened his palms.
The Plateau rumbled.
And then like a floodgate torn open his power began to bleed away.
Light exploded from his chest, pouring into the wind like shattered suns. His tenfold seals flared one last time… and then broke.
The divine script on his skin faded.
His name vanished from the Pillars of Power great spires suspended in the astral void that held the rankings of all who had ever wielded cosmic strength. The heavens reacted immediately. A wave of rejection pulsed across realms.
The system that sacred balance enforced by gods had rendered its judgment.
Erased.
No longer ranked.
No longer recorded.
No longer real.
In that moment, the sky cracked open like a skull splitting beneath pressure.
And in that divine silence, memories rushed him.
He remembered when they first gave him a name Ashen Fang, the Anamie of Tenfold Destruction. He had stood at the gates of the Celestial Citadel, wrapped in flame and fury, dragging the heads of fallen warlords behind him. He hadn't been born strong he had died more times than he had lived. But each death taught him something. Each betrayal sharpened his edge.
He remembered the Storm Wars, when his power ranked fifth among the eternal. How he stood barefoot in the ashes of drowned continents, eyes burning brighter than the sun as he pulled thunder down with his bare hands. No mercy. No allies. Just victory.
He remembered the day he challenged the Star-Blooded Emperor on the backs of twin phoenixes. One strike. One breath. The heavens blinked and a god fell.
Now? None of it remained.
Even the stars refused to remember.
Far away, in kingdoms and sects and sanctums across the stars, whispers turned to gasps.
"The Anamie of Tenfold Destruction… is gone?"
"He gave it up?"
"Impossible. He would never kneel…"
But he had.
And now, the once-feared warrior was nothing more than a man in rags.
As the last of his aura flickered out, the faceless god before him moved for the first time.
Not in violence.
But in stillness.
The god… bowed its head.
And vanished.
No one spoke. Not even the gods above.
But their judgment was swift.
A blast of divine pressure cracked the ground. Swords of judgment rained from the sky like meteor storms.
He did not dodge.
He stood, broken, as the first blade tore through his shoulder. Another ripped into his leg. A third struck his side and exploded in light.
And yet…
He lived.
Bleeding. Shaking. But alive.
The gods could not kill him.
Not because he was powerful.
But because the system no longer recognized him as anything at all.
He was outside its reach.
Unranked.
Unwritten.
Unchained.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
He wandered the dead roads nameless, cloaked in silence. Villages mocked him. Cultivators who once trembled at his name laughed at the "crazy wanderer in broken armor." A sect master spat on his boots and told him to kneel.
He did.
Not because he had to.
Because he remembered the vow.
Because rage would only bind him again.
He slept under rain-soaked trees. Ate dust. Buried his blade beneath a forgotten shrine so he'd never be tempted.
But the world did not forget him.
Somewhere else…
In the shadowed void between stars, where time did not dare pass, a creature stirred.
A broken god banished before the system was born opened a single eye.
"He has returned. The one they erased."
It smiled.
"Then let the game begin again."
Back in the mortal realm, a girl found him — bloodied, near death, outside a burned village.
She was no older than sixteen. Eyes wide with fear and awe. Her voice trembled as she asked:
"Are you… the one they say destroyed the Throne of Storms with a single word?"
He didn't answer.
He simply stood.
And for the first time in months… looked at the sky.
Above him, the stars were shifting. Quietly. Secretly.
The divine system could no longer track him. Could not see the vow forged in silence. Could not hear the words he now whispered to himself as he clenched a bloodied fist:
"I will rise again. But not by their rules."
"Not by rank. Not by divine order."
"I will become what they fear most"
"A force with no chains."
His eyes, once dull, now burned like coals reignited.
And the wind seemed to carry his words across the world like a spark seeking kindling.
Somewhere, deep in the celestial archives, a warning appeared.
[UNRECOGNIZED ENTITY DETECTED]
[ERROR: CLASSIFICATION FAILED]
[CATASTROPHIC POTENTIAL: UNKNOWN]
[CODE NAME: VOIDWALKER INITIATED]
The heavens shivered.
And the legend began.