Decades passed in the lower realms, a mere blink of an eye for Ao Xian and his family. He had spent the time leisurely hopping between different mortal worlds, treating them as scenic vacation spots. He'd visited the Azure Cloud Realm, the Scarlet Phoenix Realm, and the Nine-Bells Underworld, among others. He had encountered a few other minor "protagonists"—a young master from a fallen clan seeking revenge, a talented female cultivator with a mysterious illness—but none had held his interest for long. He had mostly left them to their own devices, finding their predictable stories rather dull. The game with Lin Fan had been all but forgotten, a half-finished chess match left gathering dust.
One day, while lounging by a waterfall, Hu Mei'er approached him with the celestial mirror. "Young Lord, you might find this interesting. Your first toy has been busy."
On the mirror's surface, the image of Lin Fan appeared. He no longer looked like the righteous, if arrogant, young man from the auction house. He was dressed in dark, unassuming robes, but the crimson glow in his eyes was deeper, colder, and utterly controlled. He stood on a balcony overlooking a hidden, subterranean city. Below him, thousands of cultivators moved with disciplined purpose. They were a motley crew—disgraced sect members, rogue cultivators, and demonic practitioners—all united under one banner.
"He actually did it," Ao Xian said, a flicker of genuine surprise and amusement in his eyes. "He built his little anthill."
The old soul in Lin Fan's mind spoke to him, its voice filled with awe. "Master, in just fifty years, you have built the 'Asura's Shadow' into the most powerful hidden organization on the continent. Your influence has spread into every kingdom and sect. Your name is a whisper of terror in the demonic underworld and a prayer of hope for the disenfranchised."
Lin Fan's expression remained impassive. "It is not enough."
He had spent the last fifty years meticulously building his power. He used the Asura's Heart to devour karmically-negative cultivators, using their life force not to increase his raw power, but to purify his own soul and gain insights into the laws of the world. He had learned to subvert the "karmic leash." While he couldn't attack the innocent, he had discovered he could manipulate events from the shadows—framing a righteous but corrupt elder, causing two evil sects to go to war, creating chaos from which he could profit. He was no longer just a weapon; he was a master strategist.
"The time is coming," Lin Fan said, his voice a low whisper. "I have gathered enough resources and manpower. I have deduced the location of my next great opportunity, one that is not tied to the Heavenly Dao's 'fortune,' but to the legacy of man."
"You mean the tomb of the First Mortal Emperor?" the old soul asked, a hint of excitement in its voice. "The one who tried to defy the heavens and forge his own path of godhood through sheer force of will?"
"Precisely," Lin Fan confirmed. "His legacy is one of rebellion. It is a power that exists outside the system. It is a power that he will not expect." A cold, predatory smile finally touched his lips. "The game was paused because I refused to play. Now, it is time to set up a new board. One of my own design."
Watching this from the celestial mirror, Ao Xian burst into genuine, delighted laughter. "Oh, this is perfect!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands. "He thinks he's found a loophole! He's going to try and use a different set of game rules to challenge me!" He stood up, his boredom completely gone, replaced by the thrill of a renewed game. "He's finally making a move. After all this time, the little ant is finally marching out of its hill, thinking it has become a dragon." He turned to his maids, his smile wide and predatory. "Well, we can't let him be disappointed. Let's go see this 'First Mortal Emperor's' tomb. It's only polite for the host to arrive before the guest of honor."
The tomb of the First Mortal Emperor was not hidden in some chaotic void or demonic mountain range. It was located in the most audacious place imaginable: directly beneath the capital city of the continent's largest and most prosperous mortal empire, an empire that had forgotten its own founder's rebellious origins. The entrance was sealed by an array of such profound power that it had rendered the tomb undetectable for millennia.
For Ao Xian and his maids, finding it was as simple as asking the world for directions. With a single step, they transitioned from the serene waterfall to a vast, subterranean space. The air hummed with a palpable sense of pride and defiance. The walls were carved with epic murals depicting a single man battling against the heavens.
"What a stubborn fellow," Ao Xian commented, looking at a mural of the Emperor attempting to shatter a constellation with his bare fists. "All this effort just to prove a point."
"He was a man of great will, Young Lord," Feng Wu said, her voice holding a note of professional respect. "He reached the peak of the Dao Tribulation stage and, instead of ascending, attempted to use the sheer force of his empire's collective faith and his own will to forge a new, man-made path to immortality within the mortal realm. It was a novel idea."
"A foolish one," Long Jing added bluntly. "The laws of the universe are not suggestions. He tried to build a tower to the heavens using only mortal bricks. Its collapse was inevitable."
Back in the celestial city, the projection of the tomb had reappeared, drawing a small crowd. Ancestor Meng and Granny Jiu were there, as were Ao Tian and Mo Lisha. A new face had joined them: a young woman with silver hair and eyes that shimmered with starlight, dressed in the robes of a celestial scholar. This was Ao Luan, Ao Xian's younger cousin from his father's side, a prodigy from the Celestial Library Pavilion who was on a study break.
"The First Mortal Emperor," Ao Luan said, her scholar's mind accessing ancient records. "He's a famous case study in the 'Hubris and Self-Annihilation' section of the Celestial Archives. He gathered a treasure called the 'Sovereign's Seal,' which could harness the will of his people, and attempted to create a 'Mortal Heavenly Court' to rival the divine one. It was a grand failure."
"I remember him," Ao Tian grunted, not bothering to look at the projection. He was now playing a game of go with Long Ba, the Dragon King, using stars as stones. "His little 'rebellion' caused a minor fluctuation in the source laws of that realm. I had to dispatch a mid-level heavenly general to reset it. The Emperor himself was erased by the backlash of his own ambition before the general even arrived."
Mo Lisha laughed. "And now that little Lin Fan thinks this failed emperor's legacy is his key to victory. It's like a drowning man grabbing onto a sinking rock. It's almost tragic."
"Cousin Xian'er is so clever!" Ao Luan chirped, her eyes sparkling with admiration as she watched the projection. "He's not just defeating the protagonist; he's giving him a comprehensive education on the futility of struggling against fate. This is a far more elegant lesson than the ones in the archives!"
Inside the tomb, Ao Xian walked through the grand hallways. The moment he and his maids approached, the powerful traps would disarm themselves, and the terracotta guardians, each with the power of a Soul Formation expert, would kneel. They soon arrived at the main chamber. In the center, on a throne carved from a single piece of dragon-bone jade, sat a skeleton in imperial robes. In its skeletal hands rested a simple, yet impossibly heavy-looking, stone seal. This was the Sovereign's Seal.
"So this is the grand treasure," Ao Xian said, his tone laced with amusement. It was a potent weapon, capable of allowing a mortal to challenge a newly ascended immortal. To him, however, it was just a well-crafted paperweight. "He's going to be so proud of himself when he gets here," Ao Xian mused. "He'll think he's finally found a power outside my control." A mischievous smile spread across his face. "We can't have that. Let's leave him a little something. A welcome gift to congratulate him on his new strategy."
"Celebration is exactly what this place needs," Ao Xian repeated, a creator's spark in his eye. "This Emperor fellow was all about mortal pride and defying the heavens. His grand failure should be commemorated, not mourned." He turned to his maids. "Ladies, you know the drill, but with a new theme. Lian Xin, ambiance. The defiant, tragic murals? Let's make them... motivational. Add some cheerful captions."
The Succubus Queen's laughter echoed softly. She waved a delicate hand. The epic mural of the Emperor shattering a constellation was subtly altered. Now, a glowing caption appeared beneath it: "Reach for the Stars! (Even if they're out of your league)." Another mural, showing the Emperor's army being wiped out by a heavenly tribulation, was now captioned: "Teamwork makes the dream work... until it doesn't."
"Feng Wu, the guardians," Ao Xian continued. "They're so stiff. Let's give them a new purpose." The Divine Phoenix maid smiled. With a gentle gesture, the kneeling terracotta warriors rose. One was now holding a tray with an illusionary tea set. Another was posed as if dusting the throne. A group of them in the corner were arranged as if gossiping.
"Hu Mei'er, the centerpiece," Ao Xian said, pointing to the skeleton on the throne. The Celestial Fox giggled. With a flick of her wrist, the skeleton was adorned with a ridiculously oversized, illusionary paper crown and a brightly colored sash that read "Participant." The Sovereign's Seal was removed from its skeletal hands and placed on a plush, velvet cushion on the floor.
"Finally, Long Jing," Ao Xian said, his eyes twinkling. "The seal itself. I don't want to damage it, that would be poor sportsmanship. But it could use a little... value-added feature." The dragon maid stepped forward and placed a single, glowing fingertip on the stone seal. A nearly invisible, impossibly complex divine rune, woven from the source laws of the universe, sank into the seal and vanished.
"Perfect," Ao Xian said, admiring their handiwork. "Now, let's find a good seat. The guest of honor should be arriving soon."
Deep beneath the bustling mortal capital, a hidden section of the ancient city sewers shifted. A wall of stone, covered in a powerful illusionary array, slid open, revealing a dark passage. Lin Fan emerged, his crimson eyes scanning the darkness, followed by the ten most elite members of his Asura's Shadow—his Shadowguard. They had spent the last year meticulously planning this operation.
"The ancient records were correct," whispered a woman named Mei, his second-in-command. "The array is keyed to the imperial bloodline. Our infiltration of the palace to acquire a drop of the current emperor's blood was a success."
"The First Emperor was arrogant," Lin Fan stated, his voice a low rumble. "He believed no descendant would ever be worthy of his legacy, but he still left a back door for his own blood. He never imagined someone would simply steal the key."
Their progress was slow and deliberate. They moved through the outer chambers, their senses on high alert for the deadly traps the legends spoke of. Yet, they encountered nothing. The hallways were silent, the air still.
"It's... quiet," another guard noted, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Too quiet."
Lin Fan, however, felt a familiar, cold knot forming in his stomach. This silence was not the silence of a dead tomb. It was the silence of a stage waiting for the actors to arrive. But he pushed the feeling down. This was different. This was a power outside the Heavenly Dao's purview. His nemesis could not possibly know. He had been so careful. "Stay alert," he commanded, his voice tight. They navigated the final corridor and took their positions, ready to breach the final gate.
"Now," Lin Fan commanded. With a coordinated burst of demonic energy, the Shadowguard shattered the ancient stone gates of the main chamber. They poured inside, weapons drawn, ready to face an army of terracotta warriors.
They were met with the soft, enchanting melody of a heavenly zither.
The Shadowguard froze, their disciplined killing intent faltering in the face of sheer, baffling absurdity. The grand, solemn chamber they had envisioned was brightly lit. The walls were adorned with murals that looked less like epic sagas and more like cheap motivational posters. In the corners, the legendary terracotta guardians were posed in ridiculous, mundane positions. And on the grand throne sat a skeleton wearing a paper crown and a sash that declared it a "Participant."
Lin Fan's mind went blank. The cold dread that he had suppressed erupted into a tidal wave of ice that washed through his very soul. He didn't need to look for the source. He knew. His gaze was drawn, as if by a malevolent magnet, to the center of the room. There, on a plush velvet cushion, sat the Sovereign's Seal. And sitting at a newly materialized jade table, sipping tea as if he owned the place, was Ao Xian.
"Lin Fan! Right on time!" Ao Xian exclaimed with a brilliant smile. "And you brought your whole club! Welcome, welcome! I was just admiring your handiwork. 'Asura's Shadow,' is it? Very dramatic. I love it."
The Shadowguard were utterly paralyzed. The pressure emanating from the four women standing behind Ao Xian was so immense it felt like the universe itself was pressing down on their souls. One of the guards, a man named Kael with a particularly arrogant streak, couldn't handle the psychological whiplash. His fear and confusion curdled into rage. "Who are you to mock us?! To mock our master's ambition?!" he roared, taking a half-step forward. "You are nothing but a decadent, pampered child playing games! What kind of impotent Emperor would sire such a useless fool?!"
In the celestial city, Ao Tian was in the middle of placing a star on the go board. He heard the insult. His expression did not change. His hand did not pause. He placed the star on the board with perfect precision. Click.
Back in the tomb, Kael simply... vanished. One moment he was there, roaring in defiance; the next, he was gone. The space he occupied was now empty. The sound of his voice was cut off so abruptly it was as if he had never existed at all. The remaining Shadowguard froze, a terror far colder than death gripping their souls.
Ao Xian sighed and shook his head. "Well, that was rude. And so uncreative. If you're going to insult someone's parentage, at least put some effort into it." He turned his attention back to Lin Fan, who hadn't even flinched. The disappearance of his subordinate was just another drop of water in an ocean of despair. The fifty years of patient planning, the belief that he had finally, finally found a path outside of his tormentor's control—it all crumbled into dust, into a cosmic joke with him as the punchline.
"I see," Lin Fan said, his voice completely devoid of emotion. He walked forward, his remaining Shadowguard parting before him like water. He ignored Ao Xian completely, his crimson eyes fixed on the stone seal. He knelt, not in defeat, but with the cold pragmatism of a man picking up a tool. He picked up the Sovereign's Seal. The moment he touched it, a colossal wave of defiant mortal will surged into him. It was a power completely different from the Asura's Heart—proud, unyielding, and vast. It resonated with his own indomitable desire for revenge, and his aura skyrocketed once more.
Ao Xian watched, nodding in approval. "There you go. See? It suits you."
Lin Fan stood up, the seal in his hand. He turned and faced his tormentor. For the first time, there was no hatred in his eyes. There was no rage. There was only a calm, empty void. "Thank you for the gift," he said, his voice flat. He then turned to his stunned followers. "We are leaving." Without another word, he led the Asura's Shadow out of the chamber.