The Fairy Realm, a mysterious and supreme cultivation plane, stood as the pinnacle of all existence. Its origin is shrouded in myths, its boundaries spanning across countless dimensions and multiverses. Here, immortals are born not merely to survive—but to dominate. To them, lesser beings are ants beneath their feet, and entire worlds fall like dominos at their will.
The rulers of the Fairy Realm are ancient families whose depths are unfathomable, their bloodlines forged from chaos and starlight. Among them, one name transcended all: the Voidborn.
No one knows for how many epochs the Voidborn family ruled the Fairy Realm. Their power is unmatched, their lineage cloaked in mystery. Whispers speak of their immunity to the Heavenly Dao, of their unmatched potential and forbidden blood. No one has ever seen the true ancestors of the Voidborn. Some believe they're long detached from the world. Others believe they never existed to begin with—that the Voidborn is a myth. A story told to frighten even the gods.
But the truth is far more terrifying.
Before he was Voidborn, he was a mortal—an heir to Earth's wealthiest consortium, raised amidst skyscrapers, power, and privilege. His name was whispered in boardrooms and broadcasted across continents. But fate is not impressed by fortune.
On an ordinary day, on an ordinary street, he was struck by an unremarkable truck. His body perished, but his soul lingered… cast adrift into the void.
There, time ceased. Form dissolved. He wandered—a fragment of thought in an ocean of nothingness—for what felt like eternity. Until something ancient stirred.
The void, long silent, recognized him—not as a man, but as potential. He became its heir, its vessel, its only child. Transcending mortality, he awakened as a being forged by pure consciousness—no longer bound by Earth's physics, or any realm's law.
Armed with memories of Earth and the knowledge of countless web novels and mythologies, he understood what he had become: an anomaly. A variable unaccounted for by any cosmic order.
Driven by the singular desire to become the strongest existence ever known, he conquered dimensions. Where gods ruled, he dethroned them. Where empires stood, he claimed them. He didn't simply rise—he consumed.
His power grew not from systems, but from will. He seduced queens, defeated champions, fathered lineages. His descendants stretched across the multiverse—each bearing a fragment of his unimaginable potential.
In time, even the gods trembled at his name.
And then… silence.
He vanished, entrusting his vast empire to his bloodline, believing they would carry his legacy forever.
But forever, it seemed, had a limit.
In the twilight of the current epoch, the final descendant falls. Hunted by unknown forces, betrayed by allies, and weakened by a mysterious corruption in their inherited powers, the last heir dies with no legacy to pass on.
As the last light of his line is extinguished, a ripple echoes through the void. Far beyond time, in a realm where light and form do not exist, a sleeping will awakens. It is the Voidborn—the first of his line, the origin of their might. He opens his eyes for the first time in epochs, feeling the deaths of his children like knives to his soul.
He rises in rage, cloaked in ancient power, surrounded by whispers of forgotten gods. His first command: to find the truth behind the death of his bloodline.