"Madam, push—now!"
Three fleeting years had passed, and at long last, the day of Qin Feng's birth had arrived.
The entire Qin household was in a state of intense mobilization. Elite disciples stood on high alert, with orders that any suspicious presence was to be struck down first and questioned later. After all, the arrival of a new prodigy could determine the future supremacy of their clan.
"Why is it taking so long?!"
Outside the chamber, Qin Tian paced anxiously, heart clenched with every agonized cry from his wife within.
"Stay calm, everything's under control."
Several ancient ancestors of the Qin Clan sat in the courtyard, sipping tea with the casual demeanor of men well-versed in the trials of childbirth. Yet their eyes would flick to the closed doors with a frequency that betrayed their underlying tension.
Though innate cultivation methods were rare, a clan as prestigious as the Qin Clan—first among all in the Archaic Era—could still unearth a few such techniques. What truly held their attention was Qin Feng himself: to comprehend and cultivate a divine technique to full mastery while still in the womb… such talent was beyond measure. He would grow to become invincible among his peers—a living deterrent akin to a nuclear arsenal.
In a realm where might reigned supreme, a family could never have too many such monsters.
And Qin Feng… was their greatest hope.
At that very moment—
Qin Feng realized his younger brother was trying to usurp him and claim the title of elder.
Furious, he kicked the insolent sibling aside without hesitation.
Ever since awakening his Great Emperor Potential Halo and cultivating the Thirty-Three Heavens Creation Sutra, he had established absolute dominance over his brother. Rain or shine, he delivered a daily lesson with unwavering dedication.
Now, the younger one merely had to sense Qin Feng stir—and he'd curl up in a corner, trembling. As for the daily Immortal Elixir? Qin Feng drank first. Only after he'd gorged himself could the second one sip on the leftovers.
His Villain Points had quietly stacked up to over 33,200—three years of tireless brother-beating, all in preparation for a glorious spending spree once he emerged.
"The three-year term has ended. It's time—I shall be born!"
He could almost see the light ahead and surged forward with eager anticipation.
"Ahhh—!"
On the bed, Yun Xiyue writhed in pain, her delicate hands clutching the bedsheets in agony, nearly driven mad by the torment her unborn child had wrought upon her.
With a final, blood-curdling scream, she reached her limit—and in that moment, Qin Feng entered the world, his first cry ringing out across the Archaic Realm like a declaration of arrival.
Though unable to speak yet, his voice rang clear and strong to all others.
"Waaah—waaah—waaah!"
"He's born! My son Qin Feng is born!"
Outside, Qin Tian nearly wept with joy, words tumbling incoherently as a mountain's weight lifted from his chest.
Whether by fate or some greater will, the child was named Qin Feng after family deliberation.
"Ding! System has detected the birth of the Chosen Villain. Initiating exclusive celestial phenomenon…"
BOOM!!
The skies exploded with thunder. Where once blue skies stretched endlessly, black clouds now churned and boiled. Darkness blanketed the heavens—and amidst it, a blood-red moon emerged, casting an ominous glow.
A celestial omen. The rise of a monstrous prodigy.
"A sign from heaven! My son truly bears the mark of an emperor!"
Qin Tian roared with laughter, his joy spilling into the heavens. Around him, the Qin disciples surged forward in congratulation.
Yet the ancient ancestors, their faces grave, stared silently at the crimson moon above.
A blood moon foretells calamity.
Red symbolizes strife and war, imbalance and dread. It is said that such a sign means righteousness weakens, evil flourishes, resentment festers, and the world veers toward upheaval.
"This child… may well usher in a great catastrophe upon the Archaic Realm."
The elders exchanged solemn glances. To abandon their own bloodline genius was out of the question. If disaster was inevitable—then the Qin Clan would face it, together.
All across the Archaic lands, other great factions stared at the skies, alarmed by the omen. Agents were dispatched to uncover which family had birthed this demon-star, and beneath the surface of peace, the continent began to roil with shadowed tides.
Meanwhile—
Qin Feng, now cleaned and swaddled, was carried to Qin Tian.
"So this is my cheap old man? Ugh… hideous."
One glance, and his dreams of inheriting the features of a dashing hero shattered. His father was all brawn and brute—a walking barrel with limbs.
For a brief moment, Qin Feng suspected his mother had exacted revenge on the world by choosing such a mate.
Fortunately, upon seeing his mother—pale but radiant—his heart found comfort.
Brows like distant mountains, skin like fresh snow, a waist as slender as willow silk, and lips like budding petals. She was the very picture of beauty from an ancient painting. Clearly, Qin Feng's future face card wasn't doomed. He might yet make a living on looks alone.
"Excellent, excellent! My son truly bears the aura of a future Emperor!"
Qin Tian, after examining his son's bone structure, could hardly contain his glee.
The boy's constitution was monstrous—several times stronger than ordinary newborns. What's more, he had unknowingly cultivated while still in the womb and now, at birth, already possessed six levels of Blood Qi Realm cultivation. Even among the clan's eight- or nine-year-old prodigies, none could compare.
Just then—
"Ah! Madam… there's another! She's having twins!"
The midwife's voice pierced the air like lightning.
"Twins!!"
The courtyard instantly descended into chaos.
Everyone had assumed there was only one. But twins? And if the first child had triggered celestial phenomena, mastered a divine technique in the womb, and bore the potential of a Great Emperor—what of the second?
Expectations soared—
Only for the midwife to shake her head.
"The second child… refuses to be born."
Not out of defiance, but as if to reclaim the nutrients he'd been deprived of. He'd claimed this two-bedroom womb, and he wasn't leaving.
"What do you mean refuses?!"
Qin Tian's fury erupted. He grabbed the midwife by the collar, demanding that she deliver the second child immediately.
"Sir, it's… it's not that simple," she stammered.
"The second one is clearly underdeveloped. Malnourished. If forced out now, he'd be born prematurely—weak and sickly. He needs another three years."
"THREE YEARS?!"
Qin Tian was shattered. Another three years?
Though every part of him screamed in protest, the rational patriarch could only grit his teeth and once again employ the forbidden secret arts—to delay his second son's birth for another cycle.
"This fantasy world is a mess! Who gives birth in installments?!"
Qin Feng stared, dumbfounded, at the chaos unfolding around him.
"There's a mole among us! Somebody shove me back in—I've got more beatings to deliver to my little brother!"