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Rise of the Legend
The fall seemed endless.
Wei Shiyan plummeted into the abyss, the cliff from which he had been cast stretching into infinity above him. The endless drop devoured him in silence, a gaping maw of darkness that swallowed everything. The air grew thin, every gust whipping against his ears like the roar of unseen beasts. The abyss itself was not merely a pit of stone and shadow—it felt alive, pressing against his chest with suffocating weight, the very will of heaven grinding down upon his fragile body.
And yet, where countless others would have screamed, wailed, or begged the heavens for mercy, Wei Shiyan did not panic. His figure cut through the air like a black star plunging into the void, but within his eyes there was no despair.
Something within him—raw, unyielding, and primal—unraveled itself.
A determination, forged not from loyalty to sect or clan, but from wounds carved deep into his soul. Loss had molded him. Injustice had sharpened him. Now, in this endless fall, those fragments of his spirit knit themselves into a blade of intent that even despair could not break.
His sect had taken him in, yes, but his bond with them was thin as mist. They were weak—souls bound together not by strength or destiny, but by necessity. Their kindness toward each other was genuine, yet shallow, born not of unshakable trust but of shared fragility. A fragile raft adrift in a storm, clinging together not because they chose to, but because drowning alone was worse.
But one man had been different.
His adoptive father.
The only soul in the world who had truly felt like kin. A man who had nurtured him, taught him to stand straight even when the heavens sought to crush him, and shielded him from the cruelest corners of fate. That man had been his anchor in a life adrift. And now—gone. Taken by the merciless heavens as though snuffed out by a careless breath.
The fall continued, but Wei Shiyan's mind was no longer in the abyss.
"Why?" The silent roar echoed in his chest. "Why must the heavens play such merciless tricks upon me? Why him? Why not me?"
His teeth ground until blood welled in his mouth. His fists clenched so tightly his nails cut into his palms.
In that moment, he swore an oath—not with words, not with ritual or offering, but with the very marrow of his existence.
He would defy heaven itself.
The rules that bound the past, the laws that dictated the present, the chains that shackled the future—he would break them all.
Within that boundless descent, something monstrous stirred in his soul.
It was not mere ambition. Not hunger for strength nor the desperate grasp of a drowning man. It was a defiance so absolute that even the fabric of reality trembled. From the void of grief and rage, a seed awakened—an embryo of power never meant for mortals to touch.
The fusion of the Three Supreme Laws: Past, Present, and Future.
Wei Shiyan shuddered as the change consumed him. The abyss was forgotten. His grief, his rage—drowned by something colder, sharper, more absolute. It was as though his body had been thrown into frigid waters. He drifted weightlessly, carried by unseen tides.
The spiritual qi within him surged and twisted, no longer chaotic but aligning with that strange, icy clarity.
And then—
When he opened his eyes, he was no longer falling.
Wei Shiyan floated upon a vast lake that shimmered with a silvery glow. The lake was encased in a cavern of translucent ice, crystalline walls that reflected endless refractions of light. The waters beneath him shifted strangely: one moment heavy as molten lead, dragging at his soul; the next moment light as feathered wax, lifting him effortlessly.
Beneath the waters lay a foundation of flawless ice, unblemished and eternal.
The cavern pulsed with radiance. Its walls flickered as though lightning breathed through their veins, but no thunder followed. The glimmers danced upon the lake's surface, weaving a dreamlike aura, half-phantom and half-reality.
At the heart of this world, he saw it.
A crystal.
It stood like a fragment of eternity carved into perfection. Its brilliance was alive, weaving endless threads of ice-blue and water-silver into a tapestry of shifting laws.
Wei Shiyan's breath caught. His lips parted, and the whisper escaped him like a prayer:
"This… this cannot be what I think it is."
But he knew.
The Universal Law Crystal.
His adoptive father had once spoken of it in hushed tones, recounting tales that sounded more myth than truth. A treasure so rare it required ten thousand years of flawless balance between heaven and earth to gestate. Even then, most such crystals carried a single law, fragile yet precious. Only once in countless lifetimes did a crystal bear two.
Yet before him shone one that radiated twin harmonies—the Laws of Extreme Ice and Flowing Water, fused in perfect union.
His heart pounded so fiercely it shook his chest. Hunger surged—not the hunger of flesh, not for food, not for gold, but for strength. The strength to tear apart fate, to defy the heavens, to never again lose what he cherished.
With this crystal, even the weakest mortal could ascend. With this crystal, blood-soaked wars were waged. Entire sects had perished for a fragment of such treasure.
Excitement surged through his veins, but Wei Shiyan forced himself to stillness. His breath steadied, his eyes narrowed. Reckless greed would be death.
And then, his hand brushed against his chest.
Hidden against his heart was the broken technique. His greatest secret. A tattered scripture, dismissed by others as useless scrap. Yet every time he studied it, his soul responded. As though the words were written for him alone.
Now, before the Universal Law Crystal, the resonance was undeniable.
He unfolded the technique. His consciousness sharpened. The scripture guided his soul like an unseen master.
Pain erupted instantly.
Agony lanced through every fiber of his being, sharp and merciless. His body convulsed violently, blood spraying from his lips. His limbs twisted as though being torn apart by invisible blades. Compared to this torment, the tortures of hell would have been mercy.
Time dissolved. His screams echoed against the cavern walls, but he did not stop.
This was the path of no return.
A mad tiger—either tamed or devoured.
To falter was to die. To endure was to transcend.
He remembered every gate of death he had escaped, every blade that had kissed his neck, every humiliation swallowed. All had led here. His resolve hardened, even as his consciousness frayed.
Fragments of his soul sharpened, slicing apart impurities at blinding speed. His spirit bled. His mind flickered between existence and oblivion. At last, darkness claimed him.
Yet even unconscious, his soul did not relent.
The devouring force awakened—terrifying, absolute. Like a black hole, it consumed without end. The cavern trembled. The waters, the walls of crystal, the flickering light, and finally, the Universal Law Crystal itself—all swallowed in a single breath.
Silence fell.
The cavern's resplendence faded, leaving behind emptiness, dull and lifeless.
But within Wei Shiyan, transformation unfurled.
The essence of the devoured crystal fused with the core of his soul. Boundless energy erupted, weaving through his broken body. Every shattered bone mended, reforged stronger than steel. Every drop of blood thrummed with vitality. His very flesh and marrow were rewritten by laws mortals were never meant to touch.
From despair's ashes, a new being rose.
Wei Shiyan, once a forgotten youth clinging to survival, now carried within him the undying seed of supremacy. His existence itself had become a threat to the order of heaven.
The heavens had sought to crush him.
Instead—they had forged their greatest enemy.
The rise of the legend had begun.