It had started like all other wars.
Screams. Steel. The scent of blood thick in the air. The gods stood like mountains behind the Zhou army, immortal, radiant, untouchable. The sky itself bent around them, dark with storm and divine wrath. Dragons wheeled in the clouds, their roars like thunder breaking bone.
He was on the back of one of them. The Lord's dragon, obsidian scales and gold eyes. Beneath him, the mortals clashed. Beneath him, empires fell.
The God of Punishments yawned.
Another war. Another rebellion. Another chorus of dying men who thought they mattered. He leaned against the horn of the beast lazily, golden eyes half-lidded, half-bored, half-done with it all.
Until he saw him.
A flash of white on a rooftop. A dark cloak flaring in the wind. A figure unmoving amidst chaos, standing just behind the enemy's line. Behind the Zhang emperor himself. High above the battlefield, like a blade sheathed in waiting.
His eyes locked onto the figure, and for the first time in centuries… The God of Punishments sat up straight. The man was still. Too still. Like a predator calculating when to strike or whether it was worth striking at all.
And then the man turned. Their eyes met.
In that instant, nothing else mattered. Not the roar of dragons. Not the charge of armies. Not the call of divine war.
Only him.
Then the heavens cracked.
Ten punishments descended from the back of a colossal dragon wreathed in stormfire. His boots touched the earth with a tremor that silenced the battlefield. Wolves, spectral and snarling, prowled around him like living shadows.
His gaze locked onto the swordsman.
"Finally," Ten Punishments murmured, voice like gravel soaked in blood. "A worthy opponent."
The wind parted for him. The earth trembled.
And when he stepped through the chaos, his enemies stopped breathing for a moment.
Some from fear. Some from awe. All from instinct. But not him.
Amidst the smoke and screams descended the man from the rooftop. Standing unbowed.
The younger brother of the Zhang Emperor, Ziyu. The one the humans whispered about like a myth.
He didn't fall to his knees.
He didn't look away.
He met the god's eyes, staring blankly like he knew something the heavens didn't.
"You thought you could defy a god?" Ten Punishments asked, voice smooth as cut obsidian.
The mortal rolled his shoulder, sword loose in his hand. "We'll never know unless I try."
A laugh escaped the god before he could stop it.
Then they moved.
Sparks flew—*divine light against mortal steel*.
Every strike carved the battlefield.
Every clash rang like a bell announcing the end of the world.
But the man didn't break. He didn't burn. He bit back.
Ten Punishments pierced his claws in the mortal's shoulder, definitely sliding across his chest to make a scar. "Still standing?" He smirked.
The man, Ziyu, as serious as ever didn't respond, yanking himself back.
Blood sprayed.
The god's lips curved. "The prophecy won't come true. A human won't be the end of me."
The mortal's grin was all teeth. "How about you wait… and watch?"
And for one blink of a second, the god faltered.
Not from fear. Not from pain.
From something else.
A pulse in his chest that should not have existed.
A thrill.
He stepped back not because he had to, but because he wanted distance. He wanted to look at this mortal again. Truly look.
Messy long white hair which always covered his left eye. Bruised mouth. Eyes full of defiance.
"You amuse me," Ten Punishments said quietly, grin widening.
"And you bleed," the man answered, raising his blade again. "So you're not so different after all."
They clashed again, exchanging massive hits.
Before the Sword God could launch his final attack, Ten Punishments vanished. A blur. A howl. A flash of silver.
The next moment, the swordsman was airborne, his body slammed into the ruins of a temple wall with enough force to crater stone. Dust rose. Soldiers froze. Even the other gods paused.
The Sword God staggered to his feet, blood trickling from his lip, eyes blazing with defiance.
"You're not stopping me," he growled.
"I already have," Ten Punishments replied, licking his lips lightly as he stepped out the smoke, eyes glowing like twin moons. "Your brother's war is lost. But you… you're mine."
In a flash of light, chains forged from divine essence erupted from the ground, wrapping around the swordsman's limbs. He struggled, snarled, but the chains held. Ten Punishments walked forward, lifting him effortlessly as one arm slung over his shoulder like a sack of rice, turning his back on the battlefield.
"Great Sword God," he whispered, almost reverent, "I can't be wrong when I feel it."
And just like that, the god vanished into the mist, carrying his prize away from the ruins of war.
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