The skies above Shenzhou twisted violently as Kaolin soared into the air, storm clouds parting before him while forked lightning arched across the darkened welkin, illuminating the lines of his face and the hollow in his detached eyes.
Even the blustery wind coiled around him like a living thing, every gust a warning for him to turn back or face the wrath of the heavens. But he refused to heed; even if the sky shattered into pieces with every heartbeat that drew him closer to Huan-Yue, he refused to be a mere pawn at the Gods and Goddesses' hands.
The floating city of Huan-Yue soon came into view, held in place by ancient magic older than the mists of time. Its towers, built from pale stone pulsing with faint streaks of light, shimmered against the dark clouds, fading into the backdrop for each passing second.
Kaolin's robes billowed behind him as he picked up the pace, catching the wind in a tragic dance. The pressure of his qi grew within seconds, unrelenting and sovereign, and intertwined with the fierce energy of the phoenix spirit that coursed through his veins.
The Jinlian Guards clad in armour and standing guard at the gates felt the air thicken and the sky groan in protest before they noticed him approaching. They hesitated for a split-second before clenching their swords made of qi-infused iron, posing to fight a mighty threat they were not trained to combat, but it was too late by then. Before they could draw their blades, an unseen force gripped the very air, flinging them aside like they were made of feathers.
The colossal gates, etched with celestial charms and shifting formations, trembled under the weight of his qi and flew open not long afterwards, yielding to his will as he descended upon the clouds holding the ancient city suspended in the skies. The scent of burned incense swirled through the air as he passed beneath the archway with firm steps, his robes brushing the stone pillars catching the glow of dawn and the wrath of the heavens behind him.
Yet his face betrayed nothing of the man who had wept beneath the moonlight, haunted by distant memories that no longer existed in the present; the agony he had carried for far too many moons burned away, leaving no trace, as if it had never been. That Kaolin was dead, the one torn by doubts and conflicted emotions, in his place stood a man ready to crush his soul for the one thing he could never forgive himself for.
The Immortals in the inner halls surged forwards, sensing the intrusion and trying to stop him from drawing closer. But even the walls carved with protective charms shivered under his presence and bent to his will, letting him pass without resistance. Still, those senior cultivators refused to give up so easily, as if they truly believed they could stop him.
They encircled him from all sides without wasting a second, like they had anticipated his arrival, and their hands shifted into intricate formations. But not for long. With a single motion of his hand, Kaolin brought them all to their knees, forcing them to bow to him, as their fingers twisted into unnatural shapes before snapping completely by the force they were put under.
His feet knew where to take him, as if guided by fate itself, bringing him closer to the chamber sealed with nine divine locks. A lot of thoughts crossed his mind as he drew closer, trying to break his resolve, but he cast them aside and advanced. One by one, each lock fell away before his touch, and the heavy door swung open effortlessly to reveal a chamber lit up by floating lanterns casting flickering shadows across the chamber walls with hundreds and thousands of charms and runes to ward off death.
His heart pounded out of control in his chest as grief and helplessness threatened to tear him apart, burning through every thought, every whirlwind of emotions pressing on. He clenched his hands unwittingly, knuckles whitening, as everything faded into the background, the only thing remaining the bed where Zhenhai lay, motionless and as pale as ash. There was barely any rise and fall to his chest. He was dying—no, Yue'er… She was dying.
For a breath, all he did was stare at the Immortal without saying a word, the air charged with the restrained power of the Forbidden Arts as well as that of the phoenix spirit, carrying with it the weight of years that had led him here – of untold sacrifices, battles won and fought, yet not to triumph.
In that moment, a flicker of doubt passed his eyes, and his hands trembled. Not from fear, but from what he was about to do and the consequences of this decision. There was no turning back; he knew that better than anyone. And yet… why did he hesitate?
Slowly, he raised his hand and a glistening light surged from his palm, its ripping glow stretching to the edges of the chamber and stirring even the protective wards carved into the walls. He then called upon all three Divine Artefacts, and they lifted into the air, orbiting one another in tighter and tighter circles until they spun into a sphere. And then, with a violent pulse, they collapsed together to become the Divine Bone that resisted its birth for the wrong reasons.
Without wasting a second, Kaolin drove the Divine Bone into Zhenhai's chest, and his motionless body lifted from the bed from the sheer force of this action. The Divine Bone fought back, light flaring violently from its core as it writhed, resisting the merge with the Immortal and refusing to obliterate the very purpose of its creation.
This resistance caused sparks of qi to spread across Zhenhai's skin in violent pulses, several cracks forming along his veins, as the Divine Bone and the Immortal's spirit were locked in a fierce battle, each pulse of energy radiating outwards and threatening to tear the chamber apart.
Kaolin's clenched jaw trembled, and cold sweat trickled down his temples as he threw his full weight into the act, and with his left hand, he began weaving formation after formation, activating his qi faster than the eye could follow. Each one left a golden glyph suspended in the air, only to vanish as the next took its place, forcing the full power of the elusive phoenix spirit to come forth.
The phoenix spirit he had once consumed came to life with a deafening cry, its wings stretching wide behind him in a golden blaze, mirroring his motions with perfect harmony like they were one and the same, and the Divine Bone began to sink into Zhenhai's chest, no longer able to resist the crushing forces of the Forbidden Arts cruelly enhanced with the celestial power of the phoenix brought to life with his blood and pure essence.
Kaolin screamed, his cries mingling with the phoenix spirit's, as a surge of stabbing pain shot through his body, yet he did not stop, not even as blood spilt from his lips. Instead, he drove the Divine Bone further into the Immortal's body, using the full force of his qi cultivated over thousands of years and that of the phoenix spirit, so that blinding light blasted through the chamber and split the heavens.
Across Shenzhou, people stumbled, rivers churned and rippled backwards, birds fell silent mid-song, and even the mountains groaned under the weight of the shockwave. And then… stillness. Only silence remained and nothing else, as the phoenix spirit vanished in a final golden blaze just as the last of the Divine Bone's resistance shattered.
Kaolin stumbled backwards. His limbs trembled uncontrollably as he braced himself against the walls, his vision spinning and blood filling his mouth in a steady stream. His eyelids were heavy now, too heavy. And then he collapsed hard, his qi spent completely, the remnants of life bleeding away by the second as his pure essence crumbled and shattered into pieces – the price of a choice from which there was no return.
But as his vision darkened and heartbeat slowed down, a gentle voice broke through the haze, like it came from the past itself and stirred something within him—"Kaolin?"—and his chest tightened at once. Yet he knew it could not be her. Not truly. Just a trick his mind was playing in his final moments, perhaps as some sort of fleeting mercy to soften his suffering.
In his final moment of consciousness, as Immortal Lord Zhenhai called his name time and again to pull him back from death's door, a bitter and broken smile curled over his blood-soaked lips. Only now did he understand what Rongjie had tried to tell him that day, amidst the ruins of Koryuthan.
Yue'er was gone. She had been gone for a long time, indeed. What remained of her was nothing but a soul, which did not share those memories he so dearly held onto. And yet now, he had no choice but to let the past go and set Yue'er free, to give her a second chance at the cost of Shenzhou's doom in a world left vulnerable without a god to rival the power of the Demon God and his Demon Army…