In the grand court of the Palace of the Celestial Realm, silence was broken only by laughter, music, and the sound of celebration. It was supposed to be a day of justice—a grand punishment for a man who had committed the worst crime in the eyes of the heavens. The court floor was carved from stardust jade, reflecting the twisted celebration in a thousand shimmering fragments. The pillars rose like mountains, etched with the names of forgotten gods.
A man hung upside down at the center of the court. His body was barely alive, torn open in every way possible. His skin was peeled, muscles exposed, bones broken, and blood endlessly poured from his wounds. His eyes were dangling from their sockets, barely connected. His guts hung like ropes, and he could no longer scream from the pain because his throat had been crushed. Yet he was still alive.
Abyss insects—creatures born from the deepest parts of the void—crawled over his body. They bit into him again and again, chewing on his flesh. Just one of these insects could knock out a powerful celestial for days, but thousands of them covered him like a moving mass of pain. His body twitched and shook, not from life, but from torment.
The audience was massive. Millions of beings—from lower immortals to celestials and divine warriors—stood watching. But no one was sad. No one looked away. In fact, they were smiling. They were clapping. Some were dancing. They cheered each time a piece of his skin was torn off.
It had been difficult to capture this monster. The Celestial Emperor, his eight empresses, the infamous Jade Queen, millions of lower immortals, thousands of celestials, and divine warriors had all stood against him. The battle raged for centuries—realms scorched, rivers turned black, screams echoing through shattered skies. Entire worlds were destroyed, and millions sacrificed their lives just to bring him down. What stood before them now was not just a traitor, but the culmination of ages of struggle and loss—a monster finally chained.
Nobody even knew his real name. Some called him monster. Some devil. Others, trash. Every word spat at him became part of his legend, but no name was ever agreed upon. He became a symbol of disgrace—an unspoken curse in the higher realms.
The Celestial Emperor sat upon his throne of molten gold and dragon marrow, his eight beloved empresses circling him like predatory stars. Their faces were painted with delight, as if this gruesome scene were nothing more than a stage play for their amusement. His children clapped and twirled in joy. Generals in resplendent armor raised toasts. Even the Emperor's mother smiled gently, as if watching a grandchild's first steps.
From behind a fan of pale jade and phoenix feathers, the Fifth Empress Yao-Lan watched with eyes colder than winter frost.
"How pitiful," she giggled, the curve of her lips too delicate to match the venom in her voice. "Still breathing."
"He deserves worse," a general muttered, sipping his wine.
"Hah, look at him squirm," a celestial land elder laughed, wiping his lips with a silk cloth. "Isn't that adorable? The so-called monster, begging with his eyes."
It was a celebration.
The mighty dragons of the Dragon Clan flew through the sky in joy. Their huge bodies spun and twirled among the clouds, roaring and breathing fire in celebration. Some raised cups filled with flaming wine, laughing and cheering high above. Down below, dragons in human form danced in shining armor, their scales glowing like jewels as they sang and shouted with excitement.
"I say burn him slowly," a demon-turned-immortal whispered with a grin. "Let's see if his screams can shake the sky like they once did."
The Jade Queen, Lu Qing, swathed in flowing jade silks and crowned with emerald lotus hairpins, raised her crystal cup with effortless grace. Her beauty was ethereal—delicate as moonlight on still water—but her eyes shimmered with cold delight.
"Even worms die faster than him," she said, her voice soft but laced with venom. "But I suppose it's only fair that the filth that dared to rival the heavens dies slowly… very, very slowly."
Even the demon army that once followed the monster, now traitorous and absorbed into the Celestial Realm's fold, erupted in savage delight.
Dark-armored warriors raised their goblets high, howling with glee.
"Let this be the end of false hope!" one bellowed.
"The traitor dies, and we live—Long live the New Order!" another shouted.
Their betrayal was complete. Their celebration, cruel.
They were celebrating his death.
The man who hung was once someone important—someone trusted, maybe even loved. But now, to everyone present, he was worse than a traitor. A demon who committed countless unforgivable sins.
He had thrown the First Empress, Mei Lian, into the Fire Furnace for days, watching her burn and scream. He had stolen the Frozen Lotus Bone from Celestial Emperor Xiao-Feng's own sister, Xiao-Yue, leaving her crippled. He destroyed sacred temples, slaughtered innocent cultivators, and cursed the divine fields that fed entire realms. He defiled holy scrolls with dark techniques, raised undead armies, and attempted to sever the reincarnation cycle. He betrayed his sworn brothers, sold divine secrets to enemy realms, and caused the fall of countless sects. And many more heinous crimes.
But the emperor had said no. The punishment must be complete. His soul must be destroyed.
It was nearly time.
As the final ritual began, glowing symbols appeared around his body. The spell to erase his soul forever—to throw it into the Abyss Void—was about to activate. The Abyss Void was the most terrifying place. A space of nothingness, where no soul returned. Even the Great Dao, the god of all creation, could not pull a soul from there. Once thrown into the void, a being was gone forever.
A priest stepped forward. He raised his hand. "You may speak your last words, worm."
The man's one remaining eye opened slightly. His broken lips moved. No one expected anything anymore. But he remained silent. His lips trembled, yet no sound came. As the final spell ignited and his soul began to unravel, one last thought echoed faintly in his fading mind:
So this is how it ends.
That was all. No anger. No curses. Just defeat.
As the final spell was activated, the very air in the Celestial Realm thickened with dread. A vortex of darkness unfurled in the sky above—a spiraling void of churning shadows and ancient smoke, as if the heavens themselves had torn open a wound that bled silence and sorrow. The court dimmed, swallowed by a suffocating haze that twisted and coiled like a living storm.
From the center of it all, the soul of the condemned was wrenched from his broken body. It screamed without sound, a glimmer of agony caught in the maelstrom. The void devoured it, swallowing the last trace of his existence with an eerie stillness. His body, now lifeless and empty, crumbled into dust—grain by grain—until nothing remained but sand scattering across the stardust jade floor.
Then, just as quickly as it had come, the darkness retreated. The smoke thinned and faded, revealing the court once more.
And in that clearing silence—
The cheers erupted.
The heavens rang with celebration.
Everyone clapped. Fireworks of divine light filled the sky. Songs played. Wine spilled. The Emperor laughed so hard that tears came from his eyes. The celebration reached its peak.
From the Flame Serpent Clan to the Frost Lotus Sect, no one looked away. Even the silent monks of the Hollow Sky Temple allowed themselves a smile.
All noise died. Even the insects paused. The air grew dense—as if the heavens themselves were holding breath.
And then…
The sky darkened.
Clouds formed out of nowhere.
The music stopped.
Thunder cracked, but there was no storm.
Then it started to rain.
But it was not water.
It was blood.
Thick red drops fell from the heavens. Every being looked up in confusion. The rain was warm. Heavy. Sticky. And endless. Blood coated their robes. It splashed in their wine. It soaked the petals the children had thrown.
"What sorcery dares disrupt heaven's will?!" the Emperor thundered.
Then a sound filled the world.
A voice.
It was not loud, but it shook every soul. It echoed across the Celestial Realm, through the Immortal Realms, down into the Mortal World.
For the first time since the beginning of existence…
The Great Dao spoke.
And it said only this:
"He who was cast in chains… bore the sins of none, yet suffered them all."
"You rejoiced in cruelty, blinded by pride."
"Now, I shall unveil the truth you buried beneath your throne of lies."
"Let your joy turn to ash… for the heavens remember what mortals forget."
—End of Chapter 1.