Millions of years ago, a sect existed—unlike any before or since.
It was known as The Shadow-Saint Palace—影圣宫, Yǐngshèng Gōng.
The earliest surviving fragments, etched into indestructible void stones and preserved in shattered jade slips, date back to the Primordial Epoch—an age when the heavens were newly formed, spiritual energy surged like boundless oceans, and the laws of the world were still flexible, bending to the will of those powerful enough to grasp them.
In that era, continents floated in the void like islands in an endless sea. Spirit veins thicker than mountain ranges pulsed beneath the earth. Heavenly treasures matured in days. Divine beasts roamed freely, and immortal herbs carpeted entire valleys. Cultivation was the very rhythm of existence. Empires spanned star domains. Sects waged wars that shattered realms. Tribulation lightning was a common sight in the skies, heralding the birth of new immortals.
Cultivation realms were clearly divided between the lower world and the upper realms.
In the lower world, the path ascended through: Qi Refining, Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul, Spirit Severing, Void Returning, Dao Integration, Mahayana, and finally Half-Immortal—the absolute limit before one could shatter the void and ascend.
In the upper realms, the path continued: Immortal, True Immortal, Celestial Immortal, Half God, God, True God, Celestial God, and the acknowledged pinnacle across all known existence—Unique God Realm.
Yet no sect dominated these realms like the Shadow-Saint Palace.
The oldest record—a single void stone fragment unearthed from a spatial rift—speaks of the Palace's founding by a solitary figure known only as the Progenitor of Duality. No name, no origin, only deeds. The Progenitor appeared during the Chaos Tribulation Era, when primal shadow and primal light—two forces that had warred since the universe's birth—threatened to tear reality apart. Alone, the Progenitor stood at the heart of the clash, forcing the two elements into perfect equilibrium within his own body. From that fusion was born the Shadow-Saint Dual Phase Cultivation Technique: a method that required simultaneous, perfect cultivation of shadow and sacred light. For any ordinary being, the attempt ended in annihilation—meridians torn, soul shattered, success rate a pitiful 0.1%. But for those who carried even a trace of the Progenitor's bloodline, the fusion was flawless, 100% harmonious.
With this technique as its foundation, the Palace rose swiftly to unrivaled supremacy. Its fortress manifested in eternal twilight, suspended between heaven and earth, walls of black jade that drank all light and runes that radiated sacred silver. Qi density within its grounds reached forty times that of the richest external spirit veins.
The Palace set standards no other power could approach:
- The weakest outer disciple had to reach peak Nascent Soul realm in the lower world, with both shadow and light phases fully balanced.
- Inner disciples required minimum entry at Half-Immortal Realm—the peak of the lower world—their dual phases granting them power to suppress entire star domains even before ascension.
- Core disciples required minimum entry at Celestial God Realm in the upper realms, their dual harmony allowing them to command celestial laws and shatter divine domains with a gesture.
- The elders began at Unique God Realm—the absolute pinnacle acknowledged across both lower and upper realms. An elder's casual breath could unravel heavenly laws, their gaze could freeze time across vast expanses. This was why even the gods of the celestial courts did not dare provoke the Palace; a single elder stood above the highest divine existences.
As for the Progenitor and the successive Palace Masters, their realm was recorded only in the most guarded fragments: a transcendence so profound it had no name, no equivalent in known reality. They existed beyond the Unique God Realm, in a state the chronicles describe only as "origin return," where they could rewrite the very foundations of existence with a single thought.
No empire withheld tribute. No rival sect dared raise its banner within a hundred thousand li. Even the celestial courts of the upper realms sent silent acknowledgment through gifts and lowered gazes.
For countless millennia, the Shadow-Saint Palace stood as the unspoken ruler of the Primordial Epoch's final golden age.
Then came the Great Demonic Catastrophe.
Chronicles record the exact moment: a rift wider than a continent tore open above the central heavens, spilling endless legions whose mere presence corroded spirit veins and turned immortal lands into wastelands. In three days, fifty percent of all supreme cultivators—across both lower and upper realms—fell. Immortal dynasties crumbled. Ancient sects vanished overnight.
When every other power had fallen or fled, the Palace remained.
The final entry in the Grand Chronicle describes the sacrifice: every elder—each at Unique God Realm or above—gathered in the deepest sanctum. Blood drawn, souls offered, life essence poured into the greatest sealing array ever formed. The rift closed. The demons were dragged back, screaming.
The Palace's records end there.
A million years have passed.
No complete chronicle survives. Fragments are scattered and forgotten. Descendants live unaware, their perfect bloodline dormant. The fortress site is now overgrown ruins in a forgotten mountain range.
Spiritual energy has thinned to near nothing. Celestial God and Unique God Realms are spoken of only in myths. The Shadow-Saint Dual Phase Technique is considered impossible, lost forever.
Yet beneath those forgotten stones, something has begun to stir…