On a fateful day...the night sky split open.
Upon the scarred mountains of the far north, where even birds refused to fly, the air trembled. Shadows swirled like living smoke, and the faint crack in the world—once no wider than a needle end—shuddered violently, and was glowing with a sickly green light.
There, upon an altar of black stone carved with ancient sigils, stood Shang Pu, Lord of the Mysterious Saint Hall. His robes of blood-dark silk fluttered... though no wind blew. Behind him, thousands of demons chanted in guttural voices, their words weaving into a hymn of blasphemy.
As if responding to the voices.....the crack widened.
At first it was no more than a slit, hissing as though the world itself protested. Then it tore, like flesh beneath a blade, ripping wider and wider until the heavens themselves screamed.
And from that tear.....they came.
First, shadows with eyes of flame, their forms was barely shaped, slipping like serpents into the night. Then bodies of scaled beasts, horned monstrosities with arms too long and fangs too sharp. The ground shook as thousands of demons in the Spirit-Severing Realm spilled forth, their auras heavy enough to crush mortals where they stood.
Behind them came the tide of lesser fiends—millions of Nascent Soul demons, each a nightmare of teeth and claw, their shrieks filling the night.
The sky turned red. The land trembled. The Gate to the Demon World was open.
Shang Pu spread his arms.... laughing loudly, his laughter boomed across the mountains.
"At last! The feast begins!"
---
The demons that came out of the tear....were hungry. So they attached the nearest cities.
The first city to fall was Hei'an City, a stronghold of the northern borders.
Its walls were high, its garrison seasoned, yet none of it mattered. The Demon tide crashed upon it like an endless sea. Mortals screamed as the Nascent Soul demons clawed their way over walls, dragging soldiers into the streets where they were torn apart.
Cultivators fought desperately, fire and lightning crackling through the night, ice walls rising to block the onslaught. But the sheer number of demons made their efforts meaningless.
Blood soaked the streets.
And Shang Pu's laughter rolled over it all.
Hovering above the city, he inhaled deeply. The air shimmered as streams of crimson light rose from the corpses below, as threads of blood qi spiraling into his chest. His aura swelled, his shadow stretching across the city as if it has a life of its own.
With every life consumed, the Gate widened.
"More," he whispered. "Feed me more. Only with oceans of blood will the Demon Kings walk this realm again."
---
But it was not Shang Pu who led the raids.
At the front of the tide slithered a man with hair black as ink and eyes like venom....it was Bu Qian, Shang Pu's left hand, feared by all as the Dark Serpent.
He was tall and lean, his movements were too fluid, his strikes too sharp, as if he were less man and more snake. Wherever he went, blood followed. His blade, curved and narrow, seemed to drink life itself.
When Hei'an fell, it was Bu Qian who struck down the City Lord, severing his head before the man could summon his spirit weapon. When the cultivators of the local sect rallied, it was Bu Qian who slipped among them like a shadow, striking, retreating, striking again, until fear spread faster than courage.
And when reinforcements finally came—from the Shu Clan, the guardians of earth—it was Bu Qian who met them at the gates.
Shu Bin, son of the Shu Clan, arrived with two hundred earth cultivators at the Nascent soul realm cultivators, their presence a beacon of hope. Shu Bin's fists shone with the weight of mountains, his aura steady as stone.
"Demon scum!" Shu Bin roared, standing firm at the gates. "You will not pass!"
Bu Qian stepped forward, smiling faintly. "Stone cracks. Even mountains crumble."
Their battle shook the city. Shu Bin's strikes split the earth, walls rising to crush the serpent. But Bu Qian danced through them, his blade slashing like a viper's fang. Again and again they clashed, until the gates shuddered beneath their blows.
At last, with a surge of qi, Shu Bin caught Bu Qian's arm, his grip like iron.
"This ends here!" Shu Bin roared.
But Bu Qian only laughed. His body twisted unnaturally, slipping free like a snake shedding its skin. In an instant he was behind Shu Bin, his blade tracing a line across the young man's back.
Blood sprayed. Shu Bin staggered, fury and pain was burning in his eyes. But before he could strike again, Bu Qian melted into the shadows.
The city was lost. Shu Bin survived, but barely. And his shame followed him back to the Shu Clan.
They lost half of the cultivators he has brought....but at least he saved some people.
But ofcourse Hei'an was only the first....it was not enough to satisfy their hunger.
One by one, border cities fell. Some were burned, some were drowned in blood, and in each, Bu Qian's curved blade found its mark. He was always leading the raids, always he struck down the strongest defender, and every time he escaped before justice could fall upon him.
Word spread like wildfire through Tianwu Realm.
"The Dark Serpent has struck again!"
"Whole cities are being drained of blood!"
"Even Spirit-Severing elders cannot stand against him!"
The people trembled. The sects gathered their disciples. Of course the clans sent patrols. Yet no matter how many times they rallied, the demons struck elsewhere, always one step ahead.
And above it all, Shang Pu's laughter echoed, growing louder with every victory.
---
In the Imperial Capital, Emperor Chu Ping slammed his fist upon the jade throne. Flames flicked at the pillars, his fury was shaking the hall.
"Enough!" he roared. "Must we watch city after city fall? What are the sects doing? Where are the Great Clans?"
The Ministers cowered. Generals bowed their heads. None dared meet his eyes.
At last, Prince Chu Bing stepped forward, his gaze steady.
"Father," he said. "Let me go."
The Emperor's fire dimmed for a moment. "Bing'er…"
"I have trained for this. If we hide behind the palace walls while demons feast upon our people, what worth is our bloodline?" Chu Bing's voice was sharp, yet heavy with emotion. "Let me lead the younger generation. We must fight, or Tianwu Realm will drown."
Silence fell.
Then Chu Ling, the Princess, stepped forward from the shadows. "If my brother goes, then I will as well. Fire must be balanced with grace. The people must see not just a sword, but hope."
The Emperor closed his eyes. For a moment he looked far older than his years. Finally, he nodded.
"Go then. But know this—" His voice broke with rare fear. "If the Demon Kings themselves step through, not even heaven will protect us."
For he was at the Peak Void Merging realm....with no hope of breakthrough.
---
And in the north, Shang Pu smiled as the Gate pulsed wider. The blood of Hei'an and the countless dead fed it well, the mist thickened into claws that scraped eagerly against the veil.
Soon, he knew, the Kings would come.
And when they did, Zi Feng's rebellion would seem like nothing more than a child's tantrum.
The true calamity of Tianwu Realm was only just beginning.
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TO BE CONTINUED...