Chapter 2: The Grave of the Eternal Mandate
The old man's pupils constricted into needle points as a primal, suffocating pressure slammed into his chest.
His breathing hitched, turning into a ragged rattle.
Before him, the colossal manor did not merely sit upon the earth; it suppressed it, as if its very foundation was anchored in the heart of the Great Dao itself.
"Sh…en… Mansion…???"
The words were barely a puff of air. His body was paralyzed, every drop of his high-level cultivation freezing in his meridians like stagnant ice.
The jade walls of the manor glimmered with a spectral, ancient radiance, and the characters etched into the gate burned into his soul: The Shen Clan.
A single bead of sweat traced a path down his forehead. With a trembling arm, he wiped it away, trying to ignore the rot of absolute dread that had taken root in his mind.
An icy, suffocating weight wrapped around his heart, squeezing until his vision blurred.
"Grandpa... what is this? Why are you stopping?!" Xiao Yang shouted, his voice cracking. He rushed forward, his hands gripping his grandfather's shoulders to steady the old man whose knees were visibly buckling.
"I... it is the Shen Clan..." the old man whispered. His voice was a paradox of bone-deep terror and fanatical reverence.
"The gods themselves. The lineage that once held the heavens in their palm."
BOOM!
The moment the name "Shen Clan" passed his lips, the universe itself seemed to shudder awake from a billion-year slumber. The sky above fractured.
Clouds writhed in a violent, bloody frenzy, contorting into colossal crimson and gold arms that lunged toward the earth like the wrath of a betrayed creator.
In the far distance, mountains groaned and collapsed, and the jagged fissures in the landscape pulsed with a rhythmic, sickening heat.
The world was no longer a world; it was a heart, beating in resonance with a forbidden name.
Xiao Yang's knuckles turned white as he gripped his spear. "Gramps... the sky... the world is screaming!"
The old man's hawk-like eyes scanned the trembling horizon, his gaze piercing the veil of the crimson mist.
"Do you not see, boy? Even the Heavenly Way acknowledges this name with fear. The Shen Clan has slept in the long river of time, but their ripple still dictates the flow of existence.
Their authority over the Dao... it lingers like a curse. Xiao Yang, do not breathe too loudly. This is a Grave Domain. Nothing here forgives the audacity of the living."
They moved forward like ghosts, their shadows stretching long and thin against the polished black stone of the estate.
The manor was unlike any ruin in the myriad planes. Pale jade walls stretched into the infinite, etched with gold runes that thrummed with a low, divine frequency.
Tall spires clawed at the firmament like the fingers of a dying titan.
Some were shattered, their debris floating in defiance of gravity, while others remained terrifyingly pristine, untouched by the erosion of eons.
The air was not stagnant; it was heavy with a suppressed, sentient power. Every footstep sent vibrations through the floor, a subtle assessment as if the mansion itself were weighing the purity of their bloodlines.
The mist exhaled in controlled breaths, thick with the metallic tang of divine ichor and the rot of ancient stars.
"This... is beyond comprehension," Xiao Yang breathed, his eyes wide with a feverish, dangerous light.
"Grandpa, look at these formations! A single stroke of these inscriptions could allow a mortal to transcend the shackles of the flesh and ascend!"
The old man remained silent. He watched the shadows. He knew that this place had endured Tribulations that would have extinguished entire galaxies.
This soil had drank the blood of Heavens.
They reached the necropolis at the rear of the estate.
Tombs of black jade and celestial stone lay in a chaotic graveyard of giants. Skeletons lay scattered like discarded husks, charred by the soot of a war that had burned the very concept of time.
Many bones were fused to rusted weapons, the metal and marrow becoming one over a billion years of silence.
"This was no massacre," the old man muttered, his voice shaking.
"This was a Divine Execution.
To bring down the Shen Clan would have required the collusion of the Primordial Will and every Sovereign under the stars. They did not just kill them; they attempted to erase the very memory of their existence."
Xiao Yang's greed began to override his fear. He moved toward the graves, his fingers twitching.
"If even one relic survived... one jade slip or a drop of essence... we would become the masters of the Nine Heavens!"
The old man's gaze snapped to his
grandson, sharp as a blade. "Yes, imagine the power. But remember the price. Power hidden this long breeds a resentment that can rot the soul. One mistake, Xiao Yang, and you will not die; you will simply cease to have ever existed."
"Grandpa... who were they really?" Xiao Yang asked, his curiosity burning like a white flame.
The old man exhaled, his gaze lost in the swirling crimson haze.
"In the archives of the Forbidden Sect, it is written... two eras ago, during the Era of Eternal Mandate, the Shen Clan stood alone at the apex of the Chaos Universe. This was a billion years ago, before the current stars were even sparks."
He paused, a frown deepening the wrinkles on his face. "Then came the War of Heaven and Chaos. Every race, every hidden sect, every Ancient God was forced to draw their steel.
But the Shen Clan... they were the Gods of the Gods. They held the Eternal Mandate. They led the charge against the void, but in the end, it is said they betrayed the very Heavens they protected, becoming the eternal sinners of humanity."
Xiao Yang's mouth hung open. "A billion years... and they are still feared?"
The old man's face darkened to the color of ash.
"The texts say it began with two children. A brother and a sister born with the cultivation of Chaos Supremes. Their very birth exceeded the limits of what the universe could tolerate.
The Heavens struck. The Shen Clan was extinguished, their names scrubbed from the tablets of destiny."
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating. The wind hissed over the broken spires like the sigh of a billion ghosts.
"The Shen Clan were not a family," the old man whispered.
"They were the Dao. And when they fell, they tore the universe asunder."
Xiao Yang gripped his spear, looking at the heart of the estate.
"And now we stand where they fell. After a billion years, we tread upon the bones of the Mandate."
"Yes," the old man replied gravely. "But the dead do not always sleep. And the living who survive the wrath of Heaven do not do so with mercy in their hearts."
Above them, the clouds spun in violent, concentric circles. The blood-red mist curled around their ankles like a living serpent, tightening. Far ahead, at the center of the manor, a pulse began. It was faint at first, then stronger, a heartbeat of pure, unadulterated immortality.
"Grandpa... I feel it. Something is breathing," Xiao Yang gasped.
"Do not touch anything!" the old man hissed, his eyes wide with warning. "One activated formation and we are but dust!"
They stepped into the inner sanctum. The moment their boots crossed the threshold, a voice tore through the silence.
"WHO DARES TO TREAD UPON THE SOIL OF THE SHEN?!"
The sound was a thunderous crack that shattered the nearby jade pillars. The booming power of the Will behind the voice shook the foundations of the plane. The blood-mist was hurled back in a violent shockwave.
Xiao Yang fell to his knees, his spear clattering to the floor. "Grandpa... that voice... it isn't alive!"
The old man's pupils slitted like a predator's, his face pale.
"No... it is human. But it is a humanity that has endured the Divine Scourge. It is a survivor... one who has been bound to this graveyard for an eternity."
The voice rang out again, more commanding, dripping with the weight of absolute sovereignty.
"Every step you take... every breath you steal from my air... I witness it all. Come forth, and face the Judgment of the Shen!"
The old man raised his hand, channeling his Dao energy to shield his grandson. He pushed through the crushing pressure, his eyes searching the mist until he saw it.
In the heart of the estate, before a gargantuan grave carved from Graven Black Jade, a figure knelt.
It was a young man, his features perfect and cold. A massive, obsidian spear was thrust through his torso, the shaft pinning him to the ground and the grave behind him.
He was impaled, fixed like a butterfly to a board. His black robes were tattered ribbons, yet his skin glowed with a faint, divine light, the last, undying embers of the Shen bloodline.
"How many years have passed since the sky fell?" the kneeling man asked. He did not move, yet his voice resonated inside their very marrow.
The grandfather and grandson froze, a chill of absolute zero washing over their souls.
"Senior…" the old man began, but the sheer presence of the impaled man choked the words in his throat.
The man slowly lifted his head. His eyes were not eyes; they were voids where stars went to die. He fixed his gaze on the intruders, his tone turning to jagged ice.
"Did I grant you permission to speak?"
The cold in his voice was a physical strike. Both the old master and the young prodigy instinctively slammed their foreheads against the ground, kneeling in total submission.
"Senior... since the Great Catastrophe... it has been one billion years," the old man choked out, his hands arched in the highest sign of respect.
"A billion years…" Shen Wuji murmured. He looked at the jade grave behind him, his expression softening into something terrifyingly sad.
"My son… it is time. Time to wake and reclaim the Mandate your father once defended."
The old man, drenched in sweat, forced his dry throat to move. "Senior… may this humble ant know the name of the one who stands against time?"
"Heh… you wish to know my name?" A smile played on the young man's lips, a chilling, hollow expression.
"This world may have forgotten the sound of it, but if your soul can bear the weight of the karma, I shall tell you. I am Shen Wuji. Head of the Shen Clan. The Sinner of the Heavens."
BOOM!
The sky turned pitch black as the name echoed.
"Shen Wuji…!!!!!!"
The old man's heart nearly stopped. The legend was real. The man who had challenged the Heavens was not dead. He was waiting.