The sky stretched clear and bright, not a cloud to mar its brilliance—a perfect day.
Whoosh!
High above, beyond mortal sight, a shadow streaked across the heavens like lightning, racing from the horizon.
As it neared, the blur became a haggard man in his middle years.
He was a cultivator. Those versed in the mystic arts would know him by his robes: a disciple of the Skyward Order, one of the ten great sects.
The Skyward Order was a titan among cultivators, yet this man looked desperate, as if fleeing for his life. Who would dare hunt one of their own?
Swish!
Close behind, a scarlet flash tore through the sky, its terrifying speed closing the distance in moments.
"Ethan, you're crossing the line!" The Skyward Order's man, Owen, glanced back, despair shadowing his face as he saw his pursuer.
Ethan—a prodigy of the Dawn Sect, another of the ten greats. Young and already at the Fusion Realm, he was a legend in the making.
"Owen, you're wounded. You can't outrun me or fight me. Hand over the Star Codex, and I'll let you live." Ethan closed in, his voice icy.
But the fire in his eyes betrayed his hunger.
The Star Codex!
The greatest mystical tome, its origins cloaked in enigma. Legends said mastering it could unravel the universe's secrets, granting ascension, immortality, or even godhood. Some claimed it could command the cosmos itself.
Yet the Star Codex was a relic of the Immortal Realm, sparking wars with every appearance. How had it surfaced in the mortal world—in the hands of a mere Fusion Realm cultivator?
"Ethan, this is too far! The Star Codex is mine—property of the Skyward Order. You dare steal it outright? Do you want war between our sects?"
Owen pushed his power to the brink, speeding toward Skyward Order territory.
Both were Fusion Realm cultivators, but Owen was early-stage, while Ethan was late-stage. Ethan could crush him easily.
Only Owen's unmatched speed had kept him alive. Otherwise, he'd be dead, the Codex long gone.
Ethan's brow furrowed. The Skyward Order and Dawn Sect were allies among the ten great sects, at least outwardly.
If this got out, it could ignite a war, plunging the cultivation world into chaos.
"Owen, don't hide behind your sect. Once I kill you, who'll know it was me? The Star Codex will be mine. And if I crack its secrets, what can the Skyward Order do?" Ethan's laugh twisted into a snarl.
Owen's threat shook him. If word spread, Ethan would be in peril. But that only sharpened his killing intent.
"Ethan, kill me, and the Skyward Order will hunt you down!" Rage surged in Owen, worsening his wounds. Pain seared his mind, slowing him for a heartbeat.
Seizing the moment, Ethan surged forward, closing the gap.
Boom!
Crimson energy erupted from Ethan, earth-shaking and lethal, crashing toward Owen.
Owen roared, spinning to face him, channeling every ounce of strength. Thirty faint dragon phantoms flickered above his head.
With a shout, he struck. The dragons merged into a massive energy wave, roaring toward Ethan.
Ethan sneered. "Thirty dragons' power? Laughable."
Scarlet light blazed from him, an overwhelming aura bursting forth. A dragon's cry echoed as thirty-five dragons materialized above.
"Die."
Ethan's grin turned savage as he attacked. His thirty-five dragons formed a crimson torrent, smashing toward Owen.
Boom!
The clash shook the sky. No contest—Owen's force shattered, and Ethan's power slammed into him.
Pfft...
As a Fusion Realm master, Owen's body held strong. The blow didn't kill him instantly.
But he flew back like a snapped kite string, blood spraying from his mouth.
"Owen, it's over."
Ethan's killing intent flared as he pursued, summoning his thirty-five dragons again.
Owen was outmatched, his wounds sapping him. His dragons flickered, barely holding form.
Ethan's coiled above, nearly solid.
Without a miracle, Owen was doomed, the Star Codex lost to Ethan.
"Ethan, you've forced me to this!" Despair gripped Owen, but resolve burned brighter.
His aura surged, his thirty dragons solidifying, almost real.
"Owen, are you mad?" Ethan roared, retreating in a blur.
"You want me dead? We'll both go down!" Owen's power exploded.
Boom.
His dragons turned corporeal. Owen lunged, a streak in the void, aiming for Ethan.
He was self-destructing.
His body was broken beyond repair; survival wouldn't heal him. Escape was impossible. Desperate, he chose mutual destruction.
Rumble...
As he closed in, his dragons ignited.
Burning his essence!
His aura grew wild, strength soaring tenfold. Yet no three hundred dragons appeared—essence burning didn't work that way.
"If you want me dead, we die together!"
Now far stronger, Owen seized Ethan in a crushing grip, roaring with manic fury.
"You lunatic! Let go!" Ethan screamed, hammering fists into Owen, tearing flesh and spraying blood.
Owen ignored it, his dragons burning brighter.
"Together to the end!" He bellowed, unyielding.
Boom!
The void exploded, tearing spatial rifts and shaking the heavens.
Far below, in the Dawn Empire, the earth quaked. Citizens flooded the streets, staring skyward, certain the world was ending.
But they saw nothing—the battle raged too high.
In the blast, Owen and Ethan, and all they carried, vaporized.
Almost all. A faded, unremarkable scroll drifted from the void, lost to the world.
The Star Codex appeared mysteriously—and vanished just as silently.
Months passed, winter's chill settling in.
Sky Pillar Peak stood near the Dawn Empire's capital, Brightvale—a renowned mountain with jagged cliffs and a summit piercing the clouds like a spear.
Snow blanketed the peak, merging earth and sky in white.
Thud, thud, thud...
Hoofbeats echoed from the base. A herd of exotic beasts charged into the mountain's depths.
Atop them rode a laughing group of young nobles, men and women, in thin but lavish garments despite the cold.
Martial artists, clearly—nobles of the Dawn Empire.
The dozen riders vanished into the peaks, their mounts gliding over snow like it was nothing.
Moments later, a gaunt youth in ragged clothes, shivering fiercely, rode in on a bony horse.
"Rowan, you useless slave, get over here!" A sharp voice rang from the mountain.
Rowan Miles flinched, his frail frame trembling. The voice terrified him. But a cold glint flashed in his eyes.
"Useless slave?" He muttered bitterly. "We're all Miles blood. Just because I can't cultivate, I'm a servant? Because I'm from a branch family, I serve the main line? Because my parents died, I'm less than a common slave?"