***
The Nine Heavens Sovereign Domain (九天至尊界)
A schism in the fabric of reality, an event cloaked in cosmic mystery, manifested upon the heaven-piercing pinnacle of a solitary peak, a lone sentinel nestled amidst the shattered bones of mountains beyond the formidable 'Dragon's Spine Mountain Range' within the 'Dragonvein Territory' of the Dragon Throne Citadel.
Upon that very summit, a human leg was violently birthed from the empty air, followed by the ghostly apparition of a waist, a chest, and a head, until a complete form was gradually woven into existence as if from a phantom loom, solidifying into the fragile semblance of a ten-year-old child.
Despite the profound and terrifying strangeness of this manifestation, after a few fleeting, silent moments, the nascent stirrings and subtle, trembling movements of the child declared with absolute certainty that the sacred fire of life pulsed within him.
For an ephemeral, terrifying span of moments, Xia Jiutian found his awareness sundered from the vessel of his own existence, lost in a sea of non-being; then, as his consciousness surged back like a tidal wave crashing upon the shores of his being, he slowly unveiled his eyes, their dark depths clouded with the chilling trepidation and primal fear of an uncertain odyssey freshly thrust upon his young soul.
A profound and glacial sorrow lay concealed within the deepest chambers of his heart; for the very first time in the entirety of his short and lonely life, he had been granted a precious, stolen moment of solitude with his father, and just as he stood upon the precipice of confiding the deepest truths of his soul, a calamity of such inescapable, world-altering magnitude had befallen them.
In the grand, indifferent, and cruel game of destiny, he was once more cast out, a solitary ship upon a starless sea. Could it be, then, that his fate was a curse of eternal solitude, to forever be a lone soul adrift in the vast, uncaring realm?
He forcibly suppressed the tempestuous, bitter emotions that had abruptly surged like a black tide within his chest and cast his gaze upon the unfamiliar world around him, yet his mortal sight was grievously blinded by a pervasive, suffocating purplish fog that enveloped him, sparing only a few ragged patches of the heavens above where a bruised and weeping firmament dominated his entire vision.
The whole of the sky was shrouded in a funereal mantle of dark, tumultuous clouds, from which incandescent bolts of lightning descended to scar the wounded earth, accompanied by a deluge of torrential, weeping rain.
Through the scant, fleeting fissures in that oppressive celestial shroud, slivers of a ghostly moonlight would intermittently filter down, imbuing the violet mist with an even deeper, more enigmatic and sinister quality.
Yet, for some inexplicable, miraculous reason, the descending raindrops were violently repelled from his form, a phenomenon attributable to the black, gold-patterned protective royal garments that adorned his body like a second skin.
With a desperate haste, Jiutian's clumsy fingers fumbled through the layers of his attire, seeking the familiar solace of a singular object, and presently, he found it.
It was a unique storage ring, an artifact of such exquisite and considerate craftsmanship that even an ordinary mortal could breach its hidden dimension through the sheer, focused force of will and concentration.
Upon this critical discovery, a fresh ember of defiant hope ignited within the starless abyss of his mind, a solitary beacon for survival in this utterly alien and hostile environment.
Although Xia Jiutian hailed from a bloodline of exceedingly high and noble standing, he remained but a fragile vessel of flesh and blood, his Spiritual Roots Awakening Ceremony having concluded a mere hour prior to his sudden, violent vanishment, the very incident that had inexplicably and cruelly cast him into this desolate place.
Therefore, at the very least, the protective vestments upon his back and the specialized, life-sustaining treasures concealed within his grey-hued ring were now indispensable tools to ease the passage of his arduous, uncertain journey.
Now, wrestling his spiraling, chaotic thoughts into a semblance of disciplined calm, he strode forward with the extreme, heightened caution of a mortal in a land of Immortal, intent on discerning the nature of his present location.
After traversing a short, treacherous distance, he discovered a small clearing where the enveloping purplish fog had thinned to a mere whisper, granting a fragile measure of clarity to his senses.
Jiutian's gaze swept left and right through the fragile breach in the violet haze, but he could perceive nothing beyond a curtain of shadow, for the greater distance remained veiled by the inscrutable, churning fog; however, when his eyes ventured to the vertical expanse above and below, a fresh, cold wave of terror washed over his soul as he abruptly realized his precarious perch atop a vast, elongated mountain, its summit enshrouded by a purplish mist that clung to it like a venomous crown, and his own position was alarmingly at the very precipice where the stone met the endless void.
He contemplated with a soul-shaking shudder that had he advanced but a few more incautious steps, he would have commenced an inexorable, silent descent into the waiting abyss of death.
Gripped once more by a chilling, mortal fear that threatened to freeze the very marrow in his bones, Jiutian retreated to his former position, which resided in the relative, deceptive safety of the mountain peak's center.
After an immeasurable passage of time spent wrestling with the demons of his own mind to better comprehend his dire situation within this phantasmal, hostile environment, he ventured forth a little farther and endeavored to peer once more into the distance through another fleeting break in the fog.
Following a half-hour of painstaking, desperate search, Jiutian located a specific vantage point from which he could gaze unobstructedly into the world before him.
Consequently, his tenacious efforts were rewarded, and he finally perceived something with stark, soul-shattering clarity in the distance.
What Jiutian then beheld with his mortal eyes was a sight that inspired no less dread than the yawning abyss at his feet.
He could scarcely trust the testimony of his own senses upon witnessing the lucid and terrifying vista from such a remove, compelling him to wipe his eyes and gaze forward once more; there, several kilometers from his position, his entire field of vision was consumed by a spherical miasma of dense, purple gas, a cancerous atmosphere spanning tens of thousands of kilometers, from which the surrounding violet fog was clearly being emanated like a plague-wind.
This circular domain of purple haze was, in turn, imprisoned by towering mountain ranges that pierced the heavens like the fangs of a dead god, their peaks arrayed side-by-side as if to form a grand, mystical formation of celestial suppression.
Observed from afar, the spectacle might have resembled a colossal purple rose guarded by immense, world-sized thorns, yet to Jiutian's terrified perception, the entity was something far more primordial and terrifying.
In Jiutian's estimation, it was a massive, living fireball on the scale of a metropolis, whose emanating energy and sheer, suffocating intensity were so potent that even the latent, nascent heavenly fire within his own soul trembled violently in sympathetic terror, despite the vast, intervening distance.
Yet, what proved infinitely more terrifying was the inexplicable, dreadful sense of a familiar, soul-deep connection Jiutian felt emanating from that utterly alien, hellish place, a sensation that magnified the heat of his fear a thousandfold...
***
Somewhere Within the 'Nine Heavens Sovereign Domain'
On that very day of that selfsame year—the 888th Year of the Lunar Dragon Cycle—yet separated by a chasm of countless, untraversable kilometers.
A vast, broken land stretched to an unseen, bleeding horizon, its entire expanse bathed in sanguine, wrathful hues cast by the light of a crimson moon, which itself was veiled by black, brooding clouds that choked the sky.
And the most astonishing feature was this: across the length and breadth of this uneven, scarred land, innumerable swords, both titanic and small, were impaled into the earth like tombstones in a immortal's graveyard, each blade humming a song of slaughter and wreathed in its own potent sword energy of varying, lethal colors; were any one of them to be unleashed from this mysterious, sealed domain into the wider world, the most powerful factions would undoubtedly ignite a bloodbath that could paint rivers red to possess it, and alongside these formidable, slumbering blades, numerous ancient pagodas stood scattered in silent, unyielding stillness.
Myriad bolts of divine lightning descended from the heavens, repeatedly striking these swords and pagodas with the rhythmic, deafening fury of a celestial blacksmith forging new masterpieces upon the anvil of the world.
Within this immense, hallowed territory, the violent, ceaseless collision of lightning and sword energy has given birth to a potent, living electrical current and thunderstorms of all magnitudes that rage across the land, mirroring the chaotic, warring energies of the heavens above.
As a consequence, within this long, reddish, broken land, a powerful, sentient energy coils and writhes like a primordial thunder serpent, pervading every inch of space, such that any unauthorized lifeform, no matter how mighty, would be instantly vaporized into cosmic dust upon entry.
In truth, this hellish environment, more terrifying than any conventional depiction of the abyss, is nothing short of a sacred paradise for those who cultivate the supreme Way of the Sword.
At the very heart of this domain stands a gigantic, sky-piercing, 1,000-story golden pagoda that stabs into the heart of the heavens, entwined by an ancient, dragon-like mythical beast whose form is woven entirely from raw thunder and sentient lightning, its colossal body, measuring more than tens of thousands of kilometers in length, coiling from the pagoda's deepest foundations to its highest pinnacle.
It was akin to a titanic, divine lightning rod that had summoned a single, devastatingly massive thunderbolt from the empyrean plane to wrap itself around the structure in an eternal embrace.
In actuality, the colossal tail of this thunder-lightning dragon thrashed upon the ravaged ground while its upper body remained shrouded by the dark, gloomy clouds that obscured the sky like a funeral shroud.
This 1,000-story edifice is itself encircled by another hundred pagodas, each 100 floors high and arranged in a specific, arcane formation of protection, which, when viewed from a great, impossible distance, resembles a celestial mountain range of gold that soars even higher than the sky itself.
—-
Abruptly, the dragon's elongated head, hundreds of meters in length and previously concealed by the celestial veil of clouds, descended from the firmament and unleashed a deafening, piercing roar of absolute dominion toward the ground below.
ROOOOOOOAR?!!!!!!!!!
The very sound of this roar vibrated with such a world-breaking, earth-shattering intensity, emanating from the central point towards a lone kneeling man, that if any other being were to hear even a thousandth fraction of its power from afar, they would be utterly convinced that the world itself was on the very verge of final, cataclysmic annihilation.
The long, flowing purple robes of the man kneeling in absolute fealty before the towering structure began to flutter and sway, not in the non-existent wind, but from the sheer, terrifying force of these sonic vibrations alone.
BOOOOOOOMMM!!!!
The residual, apocalyptic energy from the roar instantly vaporized the surrounding thunderstorms and electrical currents for thousands of meters around the sacred structure, creating a temporary sphere of absolute silence and death.
At that very moment, the man clad in a loose purple robe, still kneeling before the thousand-storied pagoda, spoke in a soft tone that was a stark contrast to the chaos.
Though his countenance remained obscured by shadow and reverence, his voice was measured and grave, each word laden with the immense weight of his concern.
"Supreme One," he intoned, his voice a respectful whisper that nonetheless carried across the blasted earth, "the 'Nine Star Celestial Dragon-Bane Sword' has already acknowledged a new, fated individual as its master, a soul chosen by destiny itself. So..we…"
Before the man could complete his solemn sentence, a lucid, ethereal voice emanated from the highest pagoda, its resonance spreading across the entirety of the vast, broken land like a wave of pure law; the power contained within the voice alone was so monstrous that it momentarily commanded the chaotic, eternal collision of energies to absolute silence, yet the tone itself was so gentle and warm that it could soothe the most anxious, war-torn heart and melt any tension from the soul.
"Child, I am aware of that which troubles your spirit, and indeed, your suppositions hold the weight of truth; they have once again desecrated the ancient, sacred rules. But do not let the poison of sorrow plague you over this matter; the great river of fate cannot be diverted from its preordained course."
A few moments after the warm, omniscient voice concluded, the kneeling man now spoke in a sorrowful, trembling tone, his words a heartfelt and desperate plea.
"We have lost another of our own kin to their treachery; I beg you, Supreme One, have mercy upon my suffering. Grant me leave to journey to that forsaken place; I wish to witness for myself these arrogant madmen who dare to append the sacred title of 'immortal' to their sullied names."
The moment his words concluded, that sage-like, all-understanding, and infinitely gentle voice once more echoed throughout the vast domain, a sigh made of starlight and eternity.
"Should you venture forth yourself, a deluge of blood, darker and more terrible than the Red Sea, will be unleashed upon this entire Domain, an outcome that bodes only utter ruin for all living beings. And as for the sacred title of 'Immortal'….. has he not already, through his mighty deeds, proven his claim?"
"Furthermore, the impending final 10th Cycle, spanning the years 901 to 1000, signifies the solemn conclusion of a Grand Cosmic Aeonic Cycle, where one singular Aeon is the equal of one million years."
"BECAUSE 999,888 years have already elapsed since the dawn of this Aeon; a mere 112 years now remain to complete its full, cosmic measure (999,888 + 112 = 1 Full Aeon)."
"So, in a decade's time, the final 100-year cycle—the 10th Chaos Dragon Cycle—of this calendar shall commence its bloody reign, after which this Aeonic Cycle will conclude and a new, unknown one shall be born from its ashes."
"As foretold by the Ultimate Prophecy, a series of world-shaking, heaven-toppling catastrophes will befall this realm during the next century, culminating in a complete and total Primordial Reset for the dawning new Aeon!
Throughout this calamitous, transformative period, mortals may ascend to the heavens to become dragons, dragons may be humbled and cast down to become mortals, and the entire realm will be reforged in a divine crucible of agonizing change; this transformation shall dwarf all cataclysms that have come before it in the annals of history."
"And, within this Great Cataclysm, our very survival as a people shall hinge upon the wisdom of the actions we take. Whether this violent rebirth heralds ultimate, eternal ruin or an unprecedented, golden opportunity depends entirely on our preparations—commencing within this final, fleeting decade."
"So calm the tempests of your spirit, purge all worldly distractions from the mirror of your mind, and prepare yourself to make the correct, difficult, and heart-breaking decisions for the adverse circumstances that lie in wait for us on the path ahead."
"That is all for now; when the auspicious time arrives and the stars align, you shall know what must be done with the certainty of a striking thunderbolt."
Once the divine decree was given, the kneeling man cast aside all his personal sorrow and righteous apprehension, proclaiming with a firm, unshakeable resolve, "It shall be done according to your sacred command, Supreme One."
Having spoken his solemn vow, the man rose and began to stride directly through the hellish, chaotic environment, moving toward the side opposite the thousand-storied pagoda; astonishingly, neither the raging, sentient thunderstorms, nor the clashing, murderous sword energies, nor the divine lightning that coiled like celestial serpents across the land dared to approach his sovereign form, and even the torrential rain that had fallen without cease for a millennium dared not dampen the hem of his robes.
Each of his steps covered such a vast, impossible distance that within a mere few moments, he had vanished completely from that vast land which stretched for countless, blood-soaked kilometers.
Within a mere few moments of his departure, the dragon's thunderous roar echoed once more, yet this time the sound did not erupt from below, but from the highest, cloud-piercing reaches of the heavens where the Peak Floor of the 1,000th story Pagoda pierced the veil of reality. Even from a height of some 10,000 kilometers, the dragon's cry descended to render the environment below even more tumultuous, chaotic, and filled with wrath.
'ROAR.ROAR.'
Upon the 1000th Floor, the Highest Peak of the Golden Pagoda.
A gigantic dragon's immense, star-scaled head was roaring towards this highest, most sacred sanctum.
The man within the chamber spoke again, his voice retaining its warm and sage-like gentleness, yet it was uttered with such profound, impossible quietude that not even the surrounding air could perceive it, save for the mythical dragon to whom it was addressed.
"Do you also harbor the chill of fear for this prophecy?"
'Hissss....'
"I know, I know, you need not elaborate further upon the matter, but your actions are rather... serpentine....."
'Roar?!ROOOOOOOOOARRRR….'
"Hahaha, very well, I shall not jest with you further; besides, did I not promise you before that regardless of the circumstances, even if this entire celestial prison is sundered into cosmic nothingness, I will personally ensure your swift and safe extraction?"
'Roar!Roar…RoAR..'
"Oh, is it that young, tenacious friend you speak of now?"
'ROAR!'
"Hmm…... That young friend remains amidst the agonizing throes of his final, soul-tempering tribulation. I cannot precisely know how long it will persist, for its duration depends entirely upon his own unyielding will and fated fortune; but rest assured, I shall shield him from any and all external interference."
'Roa!!!'
"However, if he emerges triumphant and reborn from the fires of his Final Tribulation, then we shall solicit his formidable aid in the coming great hunt, and when that time arrives, you will be the one to convey this matter to him with perfect clarity, ..is that understood?"
'ROAR!ROAR!ROAR!'
"Hahaha, excellent; then, this shall be another sacred pact between us."
And thus, in this hellish, timeless domain where all other beings were immersed in profound, death-like meditation, a lone, enigmatic man and a mythical, thunderous beast passed the silent ages, locked in their own private, world-shaping discourse.
——— End ———
Addendum
A Note from the Celestial Chronicler: Let it be known to the seeker of truth that the specifics of the Tenth Great Aeon were here omitted for the sake of narrative clarity, as a full explanation might prove a troublesome knot rather than an illuminating thread; in truth, the Tenth Aeon was the very age presently unfolding, with the Eleventh poised to be born from its ashes. The future, as it was originally Predicted by the seers of old, was founded upon the calamitous, world-ending events that were destined to transpire during the Final Hundred Years preceding the consummation of this Entire Great Aeon.
*****
The Celestial Dragon Millennial Calendar
[1 Great Aeon = 10 Aeon!]
[1 Aeon = 1,000,000 Years = 1,000 Millennia]
[1 Millennia = 1,000 Years = 10 Dragon Cycle]
[1 Dragon Cycle = 1,00 Years]
*****
Cycle Period. Cycle Name
1st Cycle(1-100 years). Azure Dragon
2nd Cycle(101-200 years). Crimson Dragon
3rd Cycle(201-300 years). Adamant Dragon
4th Cycle(301-400 years). Earthen Dragon
5th Cycle(401-500 years). Storm Dragon
6th Cycle(501-600 years). Blood Dragon
7th Cycle(601-700 years). Frost Dragon
8th Cycle(701-800 years). Solar Dragon
9th Cycle(801-900 years). Lunar Dragon
(Current 888th Years)
10th Cycle(901-1000 years). Chaos Dragon
(The Ultimate Prophecy will commence in 12 years.)
*****