Chapter 0 – The End of a Realm Lord
The sky burned crimson.
Above the shattered mountains, banners of a hundred sects blotted out the sun, each one marked with blood-soaked sigils of supremacy. Nascent Soul cultivators hovered like gods, their killing intent weighing heavier than the clouds themselves. The very heavens trembled, as if eager to erase one man from existence.
That man stood alone.
His armor was broken, his body riddled with wounds that refused to heal. Yet in his eyes, there was no fear. Only defiance.
Realm Lord of the Grand Desolate.
The barbarian who rose from nothing.
The man whose achievements reshaped a world.
"Is this all the heavens can muster against me?" he spat, his voice carrying across valleys drowned in blood. "A thousand so-called immortals to hunt one man?"
His laughter echoed, raw and bitter. Around him, the ground cracked as the Realm Core's phantom pulsed behind his back, its glow dimming with every drop of his lifeblood. Each beat of his heart spread strength to his people far away, yet each beat also brought him closer to collapse.
From the crowd of enemies, a golden-robed patriarch sneered.
"Your arrogance ends today. No barbarian, no upstart, no realm thief will be allowed to defy the order of the cultivation world!"
Swords, talismans, and divine treasures lit up the sky, raining down like a judgment.
He tightened his grip on his broken halberd.
His vision blurred, but in that fading instant, two worlds flickered before his eyes—
the endless wastelands of the Grand Desolate… and a hospital room on Earth, where another self stirred.
"…So this is how far I came."
With a roar that split heaven and earth, he charged into the storm.
Steel met lightning. Flesh met fury. Blood met destiny.
And then—
darkness.