Era of Grand Emergence
War for Rebirth
Someone's voice was heard that felt oddly familiar to him.
I was naive when entring this world a world of cruel wondenders but i had confidence to shake the world marely due to myy identy as otherworldly person that arroage led me to making manny distion that fills my heart with regrt regret of choosing to assend as mixed path immortal without knowing the world to be freed of shakels but I neaver realised that all i chased in life was freedom i grew stronger to gain freedom form oprestion to be able to do what i wanted yet it never came i was given the taste of freedom only for it to be stolen again and again for 100 years of suffering under some kind of operation, shakles i finally became an immortal later I realsed i wanted the taste of absulte freedom and for it to last forever but it was too late i was bond by new shackes after assending and breaking though now as an mixed path immortal with a burdunsome fame and choises filled with regret i live under shackes of clan as a mare information coollecter a assasin of corse weak fear me idolize me but thats it
The sky above the fractured world was a patchwork of rifts and flickering remnants of reality. Worlds collided like broken mirror shards. Titan-shifters merged with kaiju, forming an indestructible abomination.
Massive beings bled corrupted essence into the scarred plains.
Screams-divine and mortal-rang out as grand artifacts clashed in the ruined battlefield, flattening mountains and making deep trenches.
In this chaos, where gods and celestial court members watched with indifference or dread, a lone figure passed through the chaos-a shadow among storms-cloaked not in power, but in absence.
As he witnessed this grand fight against fate and impending doom, where righteous path fools fought not knowing the war, calling people like him traitors, he didn't care what they called him because it wouldn't affect him or people like him because to him they were ants, but those that ruled over them were the problem.
In all this chaos, there was something that stood out: a distant island covered in shields and a mystical river of time floating just above it, surrounded by sea and sky above it in utter chaos far more potent than he had ever witnessed. A person known as Giant Sun Peak of the cultivation world barely ran away, tail tucked in, from becoming fuel for something that lay inside, like countless others.
Everyone knew about the trap, but how long can an arrangement last against millions? What if it's weakened? What if I could sneak in? He was like countless others, filled with regret and the promise of hope. Of course, were they all idiots? No, because the alternative was inevitable, not so distant.
Draped in a white robe trimmed with shifting golden runes, he drifted through the carnage. Runes of black and gold writhed across his skin like living scars. He didn't stride among giants; he slipped through their shadows, unseen.
"Dragon among dragons… mountain above mountains… monster among monsters…"
He whispered that litany as he passed through combatants and bloodied massacres, his eyes focused on distant islands as each of the low fries shouted slogans, fighting a war blind to the whole truth.
"Did you see that?" It's that damned lich! He's turning our comrades into enemies and reviving fallen allies into new abominations."
"Nen users? Mana cultivators? They use different power. We can't win here; our powers are suppressed here. They're surrounding us-fall back!"
Their screams became the fabric of his cloak. Each panic-stricken shout wove him deeper into the fray.
On the far shore, in an island protected by invisible broken shields and many broken arrangements, hovered the ark, a complex pagoda/temple, a vessel of impossible design, stitched from Gu Houses and immortal relics.
Its motifs-golden dragons, burning lotuses, and bleeding suns-pulled on every generation's ambitions. Below, the River of Time, a mystical presence that is both physical and metaphysical at the same time, one that could be felt but not seen by the weak, raged like a storm-tossed sea: torrents of memory and intent, ready to devour any weak, unworthy wills and strengthen its position in the artifact.
The first wave of challengers-exceptions among the exceptions to be anchors-had already been dragged under. Their wills shattered, they lay broken, used as fuel, feeding the ark's hungry wards.
Our figure watched them fall, a fading echo of the proud Mixed Path Immortal he once was.
"They believe rank or influence is enough to bend the world," he murmured. "I thought so too, haha. It is true, but only when there isn't utter chaos like this, where everything is a gamble."
He recalled his own arrogance-how he thought to use every path into a grand cheat. Wisdom, assassination, artifacts born of his earth knowledge… all to stand out from the rest like stars. At the summit, he'd found millions of others-each a bright flicker in the void.
"But without sacrifice," he said, "even the brightest star is lost among millions."
Cloaked in Chaos
Around the ark, cultivators fought with will, intent, and memory. Their silent clashes sent ripples through the battlefield-every thought a blade, every regret a shield.
He slipped through those ripples, using his Assassination and Wisdom methods to hush his presence. Not even gods could sniff him out-until the final breach, where the river's roar threatened to drown him.
A blade-no, a lance of resolve-struck deep in his side. Pain flared, hot and real. He coughed, blood blossoming on his lip. His robes tore, runes splintering.
"Fate's currents cut deeper than steel," he thought, tasting copper.
The Confrontation
As he neared the ark's entrance, a voice cut through the storm:
"Mixed-Path BRAT!
He looked up. Radiant eyes bored into him-eyes he knew too well.
"Gěng Yúhuī," the cultivator said, voice calm as a still pool. I've heard rumors of you. Tell me, what will your patchwork path do against time's tidal waves? You're not worthy of being fuel, let alone a chance to be reborn.
Ah, shit, here we go again… He said an oath, saying that it seemed to flash to him a memory that was hundreds of years old. ld.
"I…" he rasped, each word a shard of effort. "I'm here… to gamble, to change my fate."
You dare to continue pouring out your memories, haha. Fine, you are worthy of being used as a meat shield for my rebirth. Go on, pour as much as you can.
A hush fell over the arena. As Gěng Yúhuī poured all of his past memories, thoughts, and will, the wisdom expert was surprised with the sheer amount of will he had, thinking, "Oh, his attainment in the wisdom path is quite impressive." Are all these his own memories, or did he steal them?"
It was the start of the Battle of Silent Wills.
The wisdom path smiled, laughing, "Brat, enough. Thanks for the armor." As he said that, he started to take over all of Gěng's wills in the arc, making it his own. Panic shone in Gěng's eyes as he started to attack the wisdom path expert with all sorts of attacks. It just slowed the takeover. He was going to lose everything. His memories would be used as a shield against the torrent waves in the river, his soul as fuel, like countless experts that were far superior in rank and strength were used yet.
Gěng's will struck like a collapsing star-clear, unyielding. Memories twisted; identity frayed. The Mixed-Path fighter nearly fell but gritted his teeth and smiled, making the enemy shudder in fear, yet he didn't yield. Then he unleashed his true final gambit, one that will cost his life:
Origin-Source Replacement Method.
Reality convulsed. the attack Instead of consuming him immediately stopped as Gěng's frowned his insides stared to bulge and he started cough blood wilently as his enimy was laughing hysterically hoho did your attack fail to think you would attempt to activate ...
Gěng Yúhuī could hear anything with a crooked smile he was facing a backlash due to the newly created attack not only that the previous once too,
why was he smiling there was a saying to confuse your enmey one must confuse yourself with whole world because attack had worked did it caused him to face this kind of blacklash if it was for that he wouldnt be still alive
Gěng's attack inverted-his own will turned back upon him but so did the wisdom experts will that was replacing him in the artifact and spread all-round
he had turned the scale of wining with one move Gěng Yúhuī achived agaist a wisdom expert if world knew his fame would reach diffrent hight so will his move he had essentially flipped the script in all the entirety of that world . The veteran staggered, eyes widening in shock.
As all this defense was crippled, his brain stopped working, unable to do anything, even think because all of his thoughts will was taken over all he could was feel fear confusion shock respect .
As his head was severed, he was baited by a simple old strategy: letting the enemy win first only to take it all at the last moment. He let his guard down.
but No, it wasn't that; it was just unfair luck. He couldn't think; he was focused on many things. How could he protect himself and the enemy battle form from watchful eyes and fight while trying to evade physical and mental attacks trying to take over the enemy's will? It'll? It was unfair but calculated.
Gěng's defense and methods of concealment weren't completely broken when he broke, but Gěng Yúhuī made it seem like it was, a desperate battle of deception against a wisdom expert, something no sane person would dare to attempt.
A battle of wits against an expert who was soaked, delved in it for centuries, and lived off it wasn't something any normal immortal would dare to do, but Gěng Yúhuī wasn't normal in any sense of the word either.
He may be one among the countless stars, but he was undoubtedly a special star when looked at closely enough, one that's going to devour every other star.
Around them, lesser anchors of will flickered and died, their connections collapsing one by one as the mini artifact that emerged from Gěng Yúhuī's chest started devouring his whole body and attached itself to the arc, attempting to hijack the entire ship.
"Heh," the Gěng Yúhuī whispered, voice hard as flint.
"If old stars must fall, let me fall backward-into a better dawn and become a black hole that devours the entirety of the sky itself, haha."
Aftermath & Vanishing
His artifact spire, woven of gold, red, and black, fused into the ark's hull. Protective wards bloomed around him like a cocoon. He tasted victory and death both-his wound gaping, his lifeblood spent.
The River of Time surged, its storm waves chanting:
"Anchors break… anchors burn… the current claimed all the outer shell."
He smiled, despite the pain.
"If I die, so be it. But if I succeed… I'll carry their hopes-and mine-into a new beginning."
And then, as the currents swallowed him, he vanished-unseen, unknown, unnoticed-an ember of rebellion riding against the flow of fate, time, and the world itself.
The whole world shook as the ark moved in the river of time that was vaster than countless seas.
He drifted there, unseen-a void amid the storm.
---
He had soared among stars… only to learn that even a star can become trapped and used like a slave.
Ruby beams burst from the artifact's center, casting the room in lattice works of raw, writhing will. My limbs locked. I convulsed.
A whisper from deep inside:
"Choose: seal these memories... or let them all enter."
But present Gěng Yúhuī didn't want to vanish. he clenched his teeth I didn't want to be someone else.
"I won't change that quickly," he thought. "I don't want to disappear again."
That moment of defiance changed everything.
The artifact slowed. It rose higher, spinning gently now. Its glow softened-blue, red, green, and a sickly purple. Light faded.
Time held its breath.
Then the artifact dissolved into me, fading into flickering embers beneath the skin.
---
A priest entered.
He dropped to one knee beside the dais, pale and shaking.
"He… he's awake," he whispered.
The boy-once mocked as the flower vase-took a steady breath. His eyes shimmered, clear and sharp. Blood surged with unfamiliar power and resolve.
He rose from the bier-no longer asleep, no longer lost.