At the highest peak of the Nether Heaven Realm, the air was thick with the stench of blood.
Zed Yin stood surrounded on all sides by soldiers. At his feet lay scattered corpses—broken swords, frozen pools of blood, and faces etched with terror that even death could not erase.
In his arms was a girl.
Her body was slowly growing cold.
With trembling fingers, she gently wiped the blood from Zed Yin's face. Her eyes were half-open. Within them there was no fear, no complaint—only the faint glow of the moments she had spent with Zed Yin. As if, even at the edge of death, she had chosen life… the life she lived with him.
Zed Yin's sword was soaked in blood. His fingers tightened around the hilt, bones cracking softly, as if even his body could no longer contain the rage surging within him. Around him, the soldiers' corpses lay scattered, as though the mountain itself had collapsed upon them.
Zed Yin raised his head.
In the distance, beyond the mist, an endless army of soldiers advanced forward. The roar of their banners tore through the wind.
In his arms, the girl had become completely still.
In that moment, Zed Yin felt his life in its entirety for the first time—
grief, that made every breath ache;
rage, burning like fire through his veins;
and an endless hatred, one that understood no words—only blood.
Slowly, he grasped the locket hanging from his neck.
It was given to him by his deceased master.
Even now, the power of Poison flickered within it—like the last breath his master had left behind, now merging with Zed Yin's sorrow and turning ever more venomous. Zed Yin closed his eyes. For a brief moment, he heard his master's voice—or perhaps it was nothing more than the crushing weight of memory.
The next instant, his eyes snapped open.
There was no humanity left within them.
Zed Yin raised his sword.
When he struck, the blade did not merely cut flesh—it tore through fear, arrogance, and greed. Heads were severed from bodies. Blood sprayed into the air, and the mountain peak became a place of sacrifice.
Zed Yin did not look back.
He sprinted toward the edge of the cliff.
In his arms, the girl lay as if asleep, and in his heart there was only one resolve—if he were to die today, then the Poison Pearl must never fall into another's hands.
Below the cliff, there was only darkness.