"There are those who once lived—yet were never written into history.And there are bloodlines that once flowed beneath the heavens—yet were denied the right to leave behind a single word."
After shattering Thần Tịch, the first Soul-Reaping Envoy of the Nine Executioners, Lâm Mạc did not immediately leave the Dao Repository.
Instead, he followed the residual blood-qi left behind by the Divine Temple's formation, delving deep into a region sealed for over a millennium.
There, no wind stirred.No light reached.Only ash remained… and a stone gate covered in ancient glyphs indecipherable by any known script.
Lâm Mạc raised his hand and touched the gate.
In that instant, the Hollow Fate mark upon his palm trembled faintly.
Crack… crack…
The stone split apart like a decaying wound.
From within poured an ancient aura—so old it seemed to predate even written language, reeking of blood from a time before names.
He stepped into the Ancient Blood Tomb — a hidden crypt buried beneath the Dao Repository.
There were no scrolls.No ink.Only—
Walls painted in blood.
Bloody script stretched across the stone like claw marks, each stroke jagged, each smear filled with despair.
Above him, etched across the ceiling, was the first line:
"I have no name.Because I was never allowed to leave one behind."
Lâm Mạc stood in silence.
Across the blood-soaked walls, a story unfolded.
A person —No clan.No sect.No surname.
Only a single will —To prove they once existed.
That person once bore the Hollow Fate.
Had climbed through three layers.Had defied an entire Divine Realm.
But in the end… they were forced to erase their very name from all worlds.
Lâm Mạc reached out, touching a line of dried blood — blood that had long since lost its warmth.
Yet the moment he did, visions surged forth—Not from the wall, but from within his very veins.
A figure knelt beneath the sky, laughing madly through the blood:
"You may kill me…""But you cannot kill what I believe in!""Hollow Fate… is no mere cultivation method…""…it is a declaration of existence!"
Lâm Mạc gasped.
His blood roared. A second mark appeared upon his brow—The symbol of a shattered droplet of blood.
And then—
The system of Hollow Fate stirred once more, unlocking Layer Three:
[Third Layer – Hollow Blood Reversal]
His blood no longer aligned with the Five Elements
No art, curse, or toxin under the heavens could now affect him
His blood could now copy and inscribe memories left by other "Nameless Ones"
Each time such a memory was transcribed… he would lose a sliver of his humanity
Lâm Mạc clenched his fists.
This third layer offered no combat strength—But it was a thread.
A link that could bind together every fractured soul, every broken legacy left behind by ancient Hollow Fate bearers.
And with each fragment recovered,the truth behind the extermination of the Primordial Dao Path would slowly be revealed.
He turned, gazing at the blood-stained wall—then nodded solemnly.
"You left behind no name.""Then let me name you—the Second Forerunner."
"Your blood has long dried…But I shall make the world remember—That you once lived."
—
From beyond the tomb, a cold aura crept near.
A formation had been triggered—encasing the entire cavern in ancient sealing light.
A voice echoed, dry and solemn:
"You should not have come here."
"This is the resting ground of a Dao… never permitted to exist."
"The intruder shall perish beneath the law of blood."
"If blood was once forbidden to speak…""Then let it now scream on behalf of all those who were silenced."