The Immortal Plane was never silent.
Its skies always trembled with qi currents, its sects thrummed with ambition, its mountains echoed with cultivators striking at the heavens. Yet tonight, silence ruled. Not because peace reigned, but because the land itself was holding its breath.
Word had spread like wildfire.
The Shadow Hall—invincible assassins feared for centuries—had been destroyed. Not scattered, not crippled, but annihilated in a single night.
And the one who did it was not an ancient immortal, nor a supreme elder, nor one of the heaven-rank sect masters.
It was a youth.
Feng Xieyun.
Whispers crawled across taverns, through sect corridors, into imperial courts. Some dismissed it as rumor, some as exaggeration. But every survivor from the forest spoke the same words: the Shadow Lord had fallen, his body consumed in crimson lightning.
For the first time in an age, assassins feared a name.
---
Deep within the Jia Clan estate, tension coiled like a serpent. The great council hall blazed with lantern light, shadows dancing across carved jade pillars. Around the central dais sat the elders, their eyes sharp, their voices filled with venom.
"The boy is too dangerous," one elder spat. "Already he has slain a force our clan spent centuries raising. If he grows further, who can say what storm he will bring?"
Another shook his head. "Kill him, and we invite chaos. His fame grows with every drop of blood spilled. Strike now, and the sects may turn him into a martyr."
"The marriage alliance must not proceed."
"And what of Lian Zhe?"
The name sank like a stone into water. All voices faltered.
At the far end of the table, Patriarch Jia Wenzhao leaned forward. His robes shimmered with golden embroidery, his aura suffocating. "The girl is the key," he said coldly. "Her essence is no longer a rumor. Already, the chains hum with unrest. The more that boy fights, the more her bloodline stirs. It is as if they are tied by fate."
One elder's voice trembled. "If the Chaos essence awakens fully, none of us can control it."
"Then we control her before that moment comes," Wenzhao declared. "We will use her as a vessel. Whether to bind the boy, or to draw upon her essence for our own ascension, it matters little. But she must never fall into his hands."
His gaze hardened. "Send word to the Heavenly Suppression Pavilion. If Feng Xieyun dares step near our gates, he will not leave alive."
---
Far below the gilded halls, in a chamber where light never reached, Lian Zhe opened her eyes.
The chains bit into her wrists and ankles, glowing with runes older than dynasties. They pulsed against her veins, suppressing the ocean that churned within her. Her body trembled, but her spirit burned.
Every heartbeat carried his name.
Every breath tasted of his blood.
Every echo of qi in the air brought his struggle to her.
"Xieyun…" she whispered, her lips trembling.
Tears slid down her cheeks, but they did not fall from weakness. They fell because she could feel him breaking himself to reach her.
And within her soul, something stirred.
A warmth that was not hers.
A memory older than memory.
A whisper, low and soft, brushing against her heart.
"Do not despair, child of mine… my incarnation. He walks a path drenched in blood, but he is not alone."
Lian Zhe gasped. The voice was not her own. It was vast, eternal, yet tender. It wrapped around her like arms she had once known, like a mother… no, like a woman who had once stood at the side of a creator.
The Chaos Goddess.
But even as that warmth cradled her, another presence pressed against her chains. Cold. Hungry. Whispering promises of destruction.
Two forces warred in her heart. One lightless yet warm. One hollow yet suffocating.
Her chains cracked faintly.
---
Feng Xieyun stood upon the smoking ruins of his battlefield, his breath ragged, his body drenched in blood. The corpses of assassins lay scattered like broken dolls. Yet he did not linger. His steps carried him forward, ever toward the Jia Clan's gates.
But the night was not done testing him.
The system's cold chime rang suddenly in his ears.
> [Warning: Anomaly Detected.]
[Mission Trigger: Survive the Will of Heaven's Beast.]
[Failure: Erasure of Soul.]
The ground split open.
From the fissure rose a creature born of nightmare—an immortal beast bound in chains of starlight. Its body was vast, a serpent coiled with wings, its eyes like twin abysses. It was not natural. It reeked of sect formation, of ritual binding. The Jia Clan had unleashed it.
The beast roared. The world shook.
Xieyun raised his sword, but his body screamed. He had bled too much, burned too much qi. Still, his gaze held no fear.
"Another trial? Fine. Come, then. Let the heavens send whatever they please—I will carve through all of them."
The beast lunged. Claws tore through mountains, its fangs dripping poison that corroded the air itself. Xieyun met it head-on, his blade clashing against scales harder than diamond. Sparks lit the night like falling stars.
Each strike tore new wounds across his body. Each breath felt like knives. His knees buckled. His sword grew heavy.
The system's voice whispered again.
> [Survival Rate: 3%.]
[Host may choose to abandon mission.]
He snarled. "Abandon? Never."
The beast's tail whipped across his chest, hurling him into stone. Blood sprayed from his lips. He staggered to his feet, vision blurring.
And then—
A whisper.
Soft. Familiar.
"Yu… do not fall."
His eyes widened. The battlefield blurred, and in that instant, warmth wrapped around his battered soul. It was not qi, not technique. It was something older.
A woman's voice, tender as a lover's, resolute as eternity.
"You are mine, and I am yours. Across lifetimes, across worlds. Stand, my beloved… for I am watching."
His heart thundered. For a breath, pain vanished. For a heartbeat, he was no longer alone.
Crimson lightning surged anew. His Heavenly Demon Dao ignited, brighter and fiercer than before. He roared, and his blade split the night.
The beast shrieked as crimson fire seared its scales, slicing through bone and essence alike. It writhed, thrashed, collapsed, and finally disintegrated into ash.
Silence returned.
Xieyun stood trembling, every muscle screaming, his sword dripping blood and lightning. But his eyes shone with something new.
He had heard her. Not a dream. Not illusion.
The Chaos Goddess.
His wife.
Still watching.
He staggered forward, each step dragging his body closer to the Jia Clan.
"Lian Zhe… wait. I am coming. Even if heaven itself bars the way, I will break it."
And deep within the sealed chamber, Lian Zhe felt the same whisper embrace her soul.
"Do not fear. He comes."
Her lips curved into a faint, unbroken smile.