A shiver of ancient silence gripped Lin Feng as he crossed the Threshold of the Forbidden Heavens. The moment his foot passed through the gate, the energy of the mortal world vanished — swallowed by an oppressive emptiness. It felt as though the realm itself had held its breath for eons, waiting for a soul foolish or brave enough to trespass.
Before him lay a world in ruins. Fractured spires hovered over chasms of void, broken arches floated in space like remnants of a forgotten age, and mountains drifted in midair, anchored to nothing. This was once a celestial dominion — now shattered, corrupted, and abandoned by gods whose names were no longer whispered.
His feet crunched against a path of dark crystalline matter, each step echoing into eternity. The Eye of the Void pulsed weakly within him, disturbed by the very fabric of this world. Here, the celestial laws were broken, distorted. This was not just a place forgotten — it was a place forsaken.
A deafening scream tore through the silence.
Lin Feng spun, barely dodging a massive claw that slashed through the space he had just occupied. A beast emerged — half celestial lion, half dimensional serpent — birthed from a rift between two suspended cliffs. Its eyes glowed a sickly violet, the unmistakable hue of primordial corruption.
Without hesitation, Lin Feng activated the Eye of the Void. Dark runes danced around him, unstable yet potent. He leapt, evading another blow, and struck with his right palm. A black shockwave erupted from his hand, piercing through the creature's skull. With a final screech, it disintegrated into ash and fragments of corrupted essence.
But that was only the beginning.
Over the next days — if time even existed in this realm — Lin Feng faced the twisted remnants of an era long past. He fought ghostly centaurs wielding stellar spears, resisted the seductive call of astral sirens, and narrowly escaped a vortex of screaming souls, which attempted to merge his spirit with the trapped essences of ancient cultivators.
Each battle stretched him to his limit. His former power was insufficient here. To survive, he would have to evolve — or perish.
Upon the summit of a crumbled sanctuary, he discovered a forgotten hall of trials. Carved into the obsidian walls was an inscription in the divine tongue:
"Only the Heir with a disembodied heart shall master the Tower of Twelve Judgments."
A staircase of light formed beneath his feet.
Within the tower, each floor tested him against a warped reflection of himself.
— First Floor: Arrogance.
He fought a crowned Lin Feng — tyrannical, loud, and drunk on power. That reflection declared himself above divine law. Lin Feng shattered it with humility, remembering Yun Tian's teachings.
— Fourth Floor: Pain.
He relived his betrayal. The Seven Traitors surrounded him. Xuan Mo laughed; Zhi Lan wept false tears. His soul cracked under the weight of memory — until, roaring, he incinerated the illusion in black fire.
— Eighth Floor: The Call of the Void.
The Eye spoke — not with words, but with sensation. He saw himself on a throne of shadows, stripped of name, pain, and memory. The Void beckoned him to abandon all humanity.
But Lin Feng refused.
Though born anew from chaos, he was no monster. He didn't seek blind domination. His path was one of justice — even if it meant vengeance.
At the twelfth and final floor, he found an altar. Hovering above it was an artifact: a Tear of the Ancient Time, the crystallized essence of a forgotten god's sacrifice. As he reached out and absorbed it, his body convulsed. A million ancestral memories flooded his mind — visions of celestial wars, lost empires, and funeral hymns echoing through galaxies.
Darkness took him.
When his eyes opened again, the room was bathed in gentle light. Lan Xue stood before him — or perhaps, her illusion. Her gaze was heavy with warning.
"Lin Feng... if you continue down this path, there is no return. Every step within this realm devours a piece of your soul. You are already half-something else."
He tried to speak but found no words. She faded, and another voice, deeper and foreign, replaced hers.
"You have crossed the threshold. You are ready to meet the Watcher."
At the heart of the Realm of Desolation lay an inverted valley — where the sky hung beneath, and the earth loomed above. It was there Lin Feng encountered the Watcher.
An entity as tall as a mountain, part-man, part-living monolith. Its skin was etched with the names of past chosen ones. Its eyes burned like dying galaxies.
"Few reach this place," the Watcher intoned. "But even you, Heir, must prove your worth."
Lin Feng bowed.
What followed wasn't a battle of blades but of minds. The Watcher assaulted him with visions — his future twisted by madness: his reign turned tyrannical, Lan Xue and Master Bai Chen lifeless at his feet, the Realms bound beneath an Empire of the Void.
But Lin Feng resisted.
He held to his belief: that justice still mattered. That he would not repeat the sins of the gods.
The Watcher nodded.
"Then you are ready."
A stone tablet split open, revealing a black flame — the Essence of Transcendence. It was not fire, nor any known element, but it resonated with the Eye of the Void.
As Lin Feng merged with it, something in him transformed.
It wasn't a loss — it was a metamorphosis.
His body became partially ethereal, his presence humming across multiple planes. His celestial aura now pulsed with the rhythm of the Void. He could perceive the threads of fate, the lies interwoven in reality, and the fractures hidden beneath the surface of the world.
The Realm of Desolation resisted his departure. The very ground quaked. Corrupted beasts howled one last time.
But Lin Feng was no longer merely human.
At the edge of the realm, approaching the Forbidden Gates from within, a shadow waited.
A massive black dragon coiled among shattered pillars of light.
Hei Long.
The dragon opened a golden eye.
"You survived. Few have. You have conquered the trial... and me."
Lin Feng gave a respectful nod.
"You were the guardian?"
"I was more than that. But now, I am yours — or rather, yours to serve the war you carry."
A rune burned on both their foreheads — an ancient pact reignited.
Hei Long dissolved into energy, merging into Lin Feng's body.
From now on, in moments of final battle, Lin Feng could summon the Draconic Form of the Void — a terrifying fusion of celestial arts and the primal might of the forgotten beast.
He stepped through the Gates once more.
But the world he returned to was no longer the same.
In his absence, war had ignited.
The Seven Traitors had sensed a shift in destiny's flow. Oracles whispered of a "Child of Chaos reborn from ashes." In the furthest corners of the Realms, legends had already begun to stir.
Yet none knew the truth.
The real Heir of the Forbidden Heavens had returned.
Not yet.
Lin Feng pulled up his hood, concealing his aura.
A cold smile curled across his lips.
The hunt had begun.
To be continued in Chapter 11 — The Return of the Heir...
________________________