The battlefield was silent.
Corpses lay twisted and broken across the ruins of the Forgotten Altar, their blood soaking into the cracked stones, rivers of crimson converging into the deepest fissures. The air was thick with the stench of iron and despair, the silence broken only by the occasional crackle of a torch dying in the wind.
At the center of it all stood Aezreal.
His black robes, tattered and dripping with gore, clung to his tall frame. His face, calm and expressionless, carried none of the malice of the slaughter he had just committed. For him, the massacre of the Azure Sky Sect's so-called "elite battalion" had been nothing more than a game — a brief moment of amusement before boredom had driven him to sweep them all aside with a single motion.
Now only silence remained.
But silence did not last.
The Scythe's Hunger
In his hand, the weapon pulsed.
The bloodied scythe — once a simple, sharp-edged killing tool — began to thrum with a hunger far deeper than before. The battlefield itself responded, rivers of blood pulling away from the ground, gathering like serpents of crimson mist into the jagged blade.
The corpses withered. The blood drained from their veins, flesh shrinking to husks as their essence poured into the scythe. The weapon screamed, not with sound, but with resonance — a vibration that echoed in the marrow of the bones scattered across the ruins.
Aezreal watched in silence, crimson light reflecting in his eyes.
He could feel it: the scythe was evolving.
Ding!
> [Omnipotent Sign-In System Notification]
Blood Resonance Achieved.
Weapon Evolution Initiated: Crimson Eclipse Scythe.
Estimated Time: 30 days.
The weapon convulsed in his grip, then wrenched itself free, floating into the air.
It spun slowly, arcs of bloodlight weaving around it like veins. Then, cocooned in crimson, it sealed itself — pulsing, alive, like a heart beating in the void.
The Stirring of Heaven
Aezreal barely had time to breathe before the sky changed.
Dark clouds spiraled above, stretching from horizon to horizon. What began as a storm over the Forgotten Altar grew monstrous, swallowing entire stretches of the continent. Lightning forked through the heavens, splitting the clouds like divine blades.
And then — the first bolt fell.
Aezreal tilted his head back, lips curling.
"So it begins."
The heavenly tribulation had come.
His cultivation had reached the absolute pinnacle of Origin Core Perfection. One more step — just one — and he would cross into the legendary realm that countless cultivators dreamed of: Nascent Soul Realm.
But the heavens demanded proof.
Across the Continent
The storm was not silent.
It was seen. It was felt.
From the cold northern tundras to the southern seas, cultivators raised their heads in awe and dread. In the imperial capital of the Crimson Phoenix Empire, scholars abandoned their scrolls as lightning split the skies. In the secluded forests of the Verdant Moon Empire, spirit beasts howled, trembling as the heavenly qi thickened to suffocating density.
And within the walls of the Azure Sky Sect, elders gathered at the peak of their great mountain.
"Such tribulation clouds…" one elder whispered, voice shaking.
"This is not the trial of an ordinary cultivator. This is… something else."
Another elder narrowed his eyes.
"Could it be… that boy?"
But no one could answer.
The Tribulation Descends
The first strike was lightning.
It tore through the heavens and crashed into Aezreal's chest with the force of mountains collapsing. His body convulsed, skin splitting open as arcs of light burned into his flesh. The ground shattered beneath his feet, spreading cracks through the ruins.
He staggered — and laughed.
A deep, low chuckle that turned into a roar.
"IS THIS ALL THE HEAVENS CAN MUSTER?!"
The second strike was fire — blue-white heavenly flames that scorched the air itself. His skin burned, muscle seared, bones exposed in an instant. Yet from those wounds, scales emerged: black, edged in crimson, glowing faintly with chaos runes.
The third was wind, cutting blades sharper than the scythes of the battlefield, tearing at his body until blood rained in streams.
The fourth was thunder, heavier, angrier — a hammer of judgment that smashed down, seeking to obliterate him.
Each time, he stood.
Each time, he endured.
And with every strike, the shadows of something far more ancient flickered behind him.
A vast dragon silhouette, its form lost between void and chaos. Eyes that burned with the light of collapsing stars. Claws that could tear reality. The Primordial Chaos Demon Dragon — his true self, chained deep in his blood, straining to awaken.
The Breaking Point
The final strike came.
A pillar of divine lightning, so vast it split the continent's skies in two. For a moment, all across the lands, day became night, and night became day. Empires trembled. Oceans raged.
The Azure Sky Sect elders fell to their knees, shielding their eyes.
And at the center of it, Aezreal spread his arms wide.
"COME!"
The bolt fell.
The world cracked.
The Status Window
Amidst the chaos, the System spoke.
> [Omnipotent Sign-In System: Status Window Unlocked]
Name: Aezreal
Race: Primordial Chaos Demon Dragon (Sealed)
Age: 24
Realm: Nascent Soul (1st Stage)
Bloodline: Primordial Chaos Demon Dragon (99% Purity)
Physique: Abyssal Chaos Physique (Unique)
Cultivation Path: Omnipotent Sign-In Sovereign
Weapon: Crimson Eclipse Scythe (Evolution in Progress — 78%)
Techniques:
– Chaos-Devouring Dragon Arts (Forbidden)
– Ninefold Abyss Steps
– Soulrend Eclipse (Bound to Scythe)
System Features:
– Daily Sign-In
– Location-Based Sign-In
– Blood Resonance Upgrades
– ??? (Locked)
Next Sign-In Location: Azure Sky Sect.
Reward: [Undisclosed]
Aftermath
When the light finally faded, Aezreal stood alone amidst ruin.
His body was whole again, wrapped in scales that slowly retracted into flawless skin. His hair, long and dark, whipped in the fading winds. In his hand, the cocooned scythe pulsed, now brighter than ever, nearing its rebirth.
He exhaled slowly, crimson mist curling from his lips.
"The heavens cannot break me."
He raised his eyes to the distant horizon — where mountains rose like jagged spears, and at their peak, the Azure Sky Sect ruled in arrogance.
The System's words echoed in his mind.
"Next Sign-In Location: Azure Sky Sect."
Aezreal smiled.
Not a warm smile, not even cruel — but a smile of inevitability.
"Good. My revenge… and my reward… align."