Chapter One — The Shattered Sky
The night was too still.
Jian Shen's blade cut through the air in slow arcs, each swing heavier than the last. His palms were blistered, his breath ragged, but he refused to stop. The sect's training grounds were filled with laughter and jeers during the day, but here, on the cliff's edge, there was only silence. Silence, and the dull scrape of his chipped iron sword.
He had been told a hundred times that he was wasting his effort, that he lacked talent, that no matter how many hours he spent swinging a blade, he would never rise beyond the lowest ranks of the sect. But Jian Shen had learned to ignore the voices. He had only one answer to their scorn: another swing, another cut, another drop of sweat.
While Jian Shen was training, suddenly an old memory surfaced in his mind, "He remembered the clang of hammers from his village forge, where Wei Long, his best friend, had once laughed at his clumsy sword swings and promised to forge him a blade worthy of legends."
The moon hung high above him, silver and unbroken, casting its glow across the jagged peaks of the Eastern Sky Sect. The mountain winds howled, tugging at his robes, but Jian Shen's focus did not waver. He raised the blade again—then froze.
The heavens cracked.
It began as a thin line across the Eternal Moon, a hairline fracture that pulsed with light. Jian Shen blinked, thinking it a trick of exhaustion. But the line widened, splitting the moon's surface like shattered porcelain. Then the sky itself tore open, a jagged wound spilling starlight and shadow in equal measure.
From the fissure poured fire and frost, lightning and mist, each element tearing at the fabric of the world. The stars dimmed. The air grew heavy, pressing against Jian Shen's chest until he could scarcely breathe.
He staggered back, clutching his sword as the ground trembled beneath his feet. His heart pounded, not from fear, but from something deeper—an instinct that whispered this moment was meant for him.
A voice rolled out of the fissure, ancient and broken, yet sharp enough to pierce bone.
"Forsaken… you cannot escape me."
The words pressed against his chest like a mountain. Jian Shen dropped to one knee, gasping, his sword clattering against the stone. His ears rang, his vision blurred, but the voice lingered, echoing in his bones.
Then came the lights.
Four streaks of brilliance tore free from the wound in the heavens, each burning with its own essence:
One shimmered with constellations, a river of stars trailing in its wake.
One blazed with fire and froze with frost, a paradox of flame and ice.
One roared with thunder, molten sparks scattering like embers.
One glowed with the serenity of the moon, silver light coiling like a serpent.
They streaked across the sky like falling stars, scattering in four directions, vanishing beyond the horizon.
Jian Shen's breath caught. He did not understand what he had seen, but he knew—deep in marrow and soul—that the world had changed.
The cliff beneath him cracked. The sect's mountain groaned as if struck by an unseen hammer. Screams echoed from the valley below. Then, as suddenly as it began, silence fell.
The fissure sealed. The Eternal Moon remained, dimmer now, its glow pale and wounded. Jian Shen collapsed to the ground, sweat dripping from his brow. His sword lay beside him, useless, ordinary. Yet when he reached for it, the blade felt heavier, as though it had absorbed a fragment of the sky's collapse.
He stared upward, chest heaving.He did not know that far to the north, a girl with hair like snow was awakening to the cry of a phoenix. He did not know that in the west, a blacksmith's hammer had shattered, and a war forged giant had taken its place. He did not know that in the east, beneath the full moon, a serpent had coiled around a girl's arm and whispered her true name.
He only knew that the heavens had broken.And that somehow, his fate was bound to the four lights that had fallen from the sky.
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The mountain did not stop shaking.
Jian Shen stumbled back toward the sect's outer courtyard, his sword dragging against the stone. The once silent night was now filled with chaos: bells clanging, disciples shouting, elders summoning protective formations that flickered and cracked like broken glass.
"Hold the barrier!" someone roared.
But the barrier was already failing. The protective dome of light that had shielded the Eastern Sky Sect for centuries flickered, its runes unraveling as if the heavens themselves had declared them meaningless.
Jian Shen pressed himself against a wall, watching as senior disciples scrambled to stabilize the wards. Their faces were pale, their hands trembling. These were cultivators he had always looked up to, men and women who could split boulders with a flick of their fingers. Yet now, they looked as helpless as children.
Above them, the Eternal Moon still hung, dim and wounded. Its silver glow no longer felt protective. It felt… watchful.
"Shen!"
A voice pulled him back. His childhood friend, Li Wei, sprinted toward him, robes disheveled, eyes wide with fear. "What happened? The sky—did you see it?"
Jian Shen opened his mouth, but no words came. How could he explain the voice that had pressed into his bones? The four lights that had fallen like stars?
Before he could answer, the Sect Master appeared.
Elder Tian descended from the inner sanctum, his white beard flowing, his presence usually as steady as a mountain. But tonight, even he looked shaken. His eyes scanned the heavens, then the trembling disciples.
"Listen well!" His voice carried across the courtyard, silencing the chaos. "The heavens have spoken. A calamity has begun."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Calamity. The word itself was enough to drain the blood from their faces.
Elder Tian's gaze hardened. "The fissure in the sky is no natural phenomenon. It is a sign. The balance of the Nine Realms has been broken. From this night forward, nothing will remain the same."
Jian Shen's grip tightened on his sword. He wanted to ask what it meant, but the words stuck in his throat.
The Sect Master raised his hand, summoning a scroll that unfurled in midair. Ancient runes glowed across its surface, forming a prophecy Jian Shen had never seen before.
"When the Eternal Moon bleeds, four lights shall fall. When the heavens shatter, the Forsaken shall rise. Bound by beasts, crowned by weapons, They shall stand against the end of all things."
The disciples gasped. Jian Shen's heart hammered. Forsaken. The same word the voice had spoken.
Elder Tian's eyes swept across them, grim and unyielding. "The Forsaken are not a myth. They are real. And they have awakened."
The courtyard erupted in whispers. Some were fearful, others awed. Jian Shen stood frozen, the word echoing in his mind. Forsaken.
He remembered the four lights streaking across the sky. He remembered the weight of the voice pressing into his chest. And though he could not explain why, he felt certain: one of those lights was meant for him.
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Far to the north, snow fell in silence.
Lan Xue sat alone on the frozen lake, her bow resting across her knees. She had always felt the cold more keenly than others, though she never complained. Tonight, however, the chill was different. It was not the bite of winter air, but the whisper of something vast stirring beneath the ice.
The sky above her split with the same wound Jian Shen had seen. She gasped as a streak of light descended, piercing the lake's surface without a sound. The ice did not shatter. Instead, it glowed, frost racing outward in intricate patterns.
From the depths rose a cry — half flame, half frost.
The Frost Flame Phoenix burst forth, wings blazing with fire on one side, shimmering with ice on the other. Its reflection danced across the frozen lake, fire and frost locked in perfect balance.
Lan Xue's white hair whipped in the wind as the phoenix circled her, its eyes locking onto hers. She felt her bow grow warm in her hands, then cold, then both at once. The wood shimmered, reshaping itself into something greater — the Bow of Eternal Balance.
Her breath caught. She had no words, only instinct. She drew the bowstring, and an arrow of fire and frost formed between her fingers. The phoenix cried again, and in that sound, she felt her destiny awaken.
In the west, the forge collapsed.
Wei Long had been hammering iron since dawn, his arms aching, his chest bare despite the heat of the flames. He was no stranger to exhaustion, but tonight the fire burned strangely, as if it too had sensed the heavens' wound.
The ground shook. His hammer shattered. Sparks erupted, not red but golden, streaked with lightning.
From the molten pit rose a colossal figure — the War Ape Eternal King, its fur crackling with stormlight, its roar shaking the forge walls. Wei Long stumbled back, shielding his face, but the ape's gaze pinned him in place.
The broken hammer in his hand glowed, reshaping into a massive golden staff, runes sparking across its surface. The Eternal Forge Pillar pulsed with power, heavy yet perfectly balanced in his grip.
The ape roared again, lightning splitting the sky above. Wei Long's lips curled into a grim smile. For the first time in his life, he felt a weapon that did not resist him. It belonged to him — and he to it.
In the east, the moonlight deepened.
Mei Yun knelt in the courtyard of her family's shrine, incense smoke curling around her. She had always been quiet, her presence like still water, overlooked by those who sought louder brilliance. But tonight, the moon's glow fell only on her.
The fissure in the sky reflected in her eyes. Silver light coiled down, wrapping around her arm like a living chain. She gasped as scales shimmered across her skin, then faded, leaving only a mark — the crown of a serpent.
From the shadows slithered the Moon Scaled Serpent Sovereign, its body iridescent teal and silver, its eyes glowing with lunar wisdom. It coiled around her, not as a predator, but as a guardian.
In her hands, the incense staff she had carried since childhood reshaped, curving into a crescent blade that glowed with moonlight. The Eternal Serpent Crescent hummed softly, as if breathing with her.
The serpent raised its head, hissing toward the Eternal Moon above. Mei Yun rose slowly, her grip steady on the blade. She felt no fear. Only inevitability.
And across the realms, mortals whispered.
Some called it omen. Some called it salvation. But all knew: the world had shifted.
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The sect did not sleep that night.
Disciples huddled in groups, whispering about omens and prophecies. Elders stood on the walls, their eyes fixed on the wounded moon, their hands trembling despite their cultivation. Even the beasts in the mountain forests howled and fled, as if they too had sensed the shift in heaven's order.
Jian Shen sat apart from them all. His sword lay across his knees, its chipped edge catching the faint moonlight. He could still feel the weight of the voice pressing against his chest, the word echoing in his bones. Forsaken.
He turned the word over in his mind again and again. Forsaken. To be abandoned. To be cast aside. It was a word that had defined his life long before the heavens had spoken it.
He remembered the sneers of his fellow disciples, the way they mocked his lack of talent. He remembered the elders' dismissive glances, the quiet conversations about how he would never rise beyond mediocrity. Even his parents, long gone, had left him with nothing but debts and a name barely worth remembering.
Forsaken. Yes, he knew the taste of that word.
But tonight, it felt different. Tonight, it felt less like a curse and more like a summons.
He looked up at the sky. The fissure had sealed, but the Eternal Moon still glowed faintly, its light dimmer, its surface scarred. He wondered if anyone else had noticed how it seemed to watch them now, as though waiting.
A hand fell on his shoulder.
"Shen," Li Wei said softly. His friend's face was pale, his eyes wide with fear. "Do you think… do you think the prophecy is true? That the Forsaken have returned?"
Jian Shen did not answer immediately. He stared at his sword, at the chipped iron that had been his only companion through years of scorn. Then he tightened his grip.
"I don't know," he said at last. "But I saw the lights. I heard the voice." And I know this—whatever is coming, I won't run from it."
Li Wei swallowed hard. "You? But Shen, you're—" He stopped himself, shame flickering across his face.
Jian Shen smiled faintly, though there was no humor in it. "I know what I am. Weak. Untalented. Forsaken." He rose to his feet, lifting the sword with both hands. "But if the heavens have chosen me, then I'll answer. Even if it kills me."
The words surprised even him. They were not a boast, not a declaration of power. They were a vow.
Above them, the moonlight flickered, as if in answer.
Far away, the other three lights stirred.
Lan Xue stood on the frozen lake, her bow glowing in her hands, the phoenix's cry echoing across the mountains. She felt the fire and frost within her pulse in rhythm with her heartbeat. She did not yet know Jian Shen's name, but she felt the same pull of destiny.
Wei Long gripped the Eternal Forge Pillar, lightning dancing across his arms as the War Ape roared behind him. His forge lay in ruins, but his spirit burned brighter than ever. He too felt the call.
Mei Yun raised her crescent blade beneath the full moon, the serpent coiled around her like a crown. Her eyes reflected silver light, calm and unyielding. She too had heard the whisper of fate.
And so, across the Nine Realms, four destinies awakened.
They did not yet know each other. They did not yet stand together. But the heavens had marked them, and the world would never again be the same.
The legend of the Forsaken Four had begun.