In the far northern reaches of the Phoenix Continent, a land historically ablaze with fiery lava and roiling with potent fire spirits, the air remains perpetually hot and arid. This inhospitable region, once the domain of the legendary Fire Phoenix, is imbued with such intense fire energy that only the most adept fire cultivators can thrive here, considering it their sanctum.
The Northern Fiery Sect, ruling this realm, boasts hundreds of thousands of cultivators across various levels of mastery, all under the command of a Sect Master who has attained the exalted Divine Accumulation Realm. They are the undisputed overlords of this fiery landscape, their dominion marked by towering mountains of rock and rivers of flowing lava, all vibrant with free-roaming fire spirits.
Now, however, the once-vibrant land is desolate, its essence extinguished. Amidst the devastation kneels a young woman, the Sect Master of the Sky Sword Heavenly Sect from the distant south. The ground around her bears no resemblance to the fertile land of fire it once was it is scorched and barren, leaving no trace of the past except for the memories it once housed.
Before her lies a charred skull, its features obliterated by fire yet unmistakably familiar to her. They had been close, nearly more than mere companions, and now, one drop crystal tear stream down her face as she clutches the remains. Her grief is palpable, each tear a testament to the depth of her loss.
From above, the severity of the crater suggests the epicenter of the catastrophe might be here, or very near. As the profound sorrow momentarily subsides, she senses an approaching presence and looks up, clouds slowly cover her features making it that no one can see her form.
Arriving in a state of disarray are two other figures, a man and a woman, both emanating the formidable aura, both are of the Divine Accumulation Realm. They are the sect masters from the eastern and western Immortal Sects. Typically, they both always look high and mighty, but today they appear as if they have endured great trials, their clothes ragged, their bearing weary.
"Cough...!" The man coughs, a trickle of blood staining his lips.
"Brother Yun!" The woman at his side steadies him, her condition slightly less dire but still severe. Though their sects were not in the direct path of the explosion, the shockwaves reached them, wreaking havoc and destroying much of their domains. After stabilizing what remained and learning of the Sky Sword Heavenly Sect Master's journey north, they too felt compelled to follow, driven by a need to understand the scale of the disaster and fulfill their responsibilities to their followers and the broader cultivator community.
Despite their injuries, their purpose is clear—they must witness the aftermath, comprehend the extent of the devastation, and report their findings to the higher echelons. The sight of the total annihilation is still shocking, but their duty as leaders propels them forward through their own pain and loss.
Ignoring the two other sect masters, the Sect Master of the Sky Sword Heavenly Sect ascended into the sky. Her departure was marked by a solemn silence as she vanished into the distant horizon.
The two sect masters watched her leave, understanding the depth of her grief. Under normal circumstances, they might have exchanged words, but they respected her need to mourn alone. They knew of her deep bond with the Northern Fiery Sect's master, and they respected her silence now more than ever. With heavy hearts, they turned to assess the devastation around them.
The landscape offered no signs of survivors; the calamity had been total. The scope of the destruction was beyond their comprehension. They knew the magnitude of the event would soon draw the attention of higher powers—the Grand Divine Coalition. As subordinates of this mighty alliance, they would need to gather their findings and prepare for the arrival of the Divine Attendant, who would undoubtedly investigate this catastrophe.
Some distance away, the Sky Sword Heavenly Sect's sect master landed softly on the desolate ground. With a deep sense of duty and reverence, after finding a suitable area, she used her formidable powers to create a hidden tomb. Inside, she carefully placed the skull of her fallen friend and once senior. She wasn't sure how many days passed but she sits in silence as memories flood her mind. After ensuring the tomb was secure and concealed from any cultivator below her level of power, she sealed it forever, creating an undetectable sanctuary that would honor his memory in solitude.
"Rest well... Brother Kong" she whispered, the sorrow in her voice mingling with the wind. With a heavy heart, she soared back toward the south, leaving behind the tomb and the remnants of a world that had once been vibrant with life and power.
In front of the tomb, only a solitary tombstone stood as a testament to the world. Carved into the stone were his name and his affiliation: "Northern Fiery Sect, Meng Kongchan ."
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"Rest in peace, Grandpa... Grandma... Brother..." Torin murmured, his voice echoing softly in the emptiness, the solemn words lingering unanswered in the air. He stood before the graves he had dug, a solitary figure in the vast silence. Months had passed since he first awoke to this altered world. Torin had wandered through ravaged lands, subsisting on whatever sustenance he could find and quenching his thirst with rainwater collected in earthen depressions.
Throughout his travels, he encountered numerous decayed corpses, some so disfigured they were beyond recognition, yet he diligently gave each a burial. Awakening anew after that rain-soaked day, Torin grappled with a deep-seated loathing for his own helplessness, his desire to continue living nearly extinguished. Nevertheless, those who are alive must continue forward. He had repeatedly traversed the space between his village and his farmlands during that first harrowing month, clinging to the hope of finding other survivors. As time wore on, he had to confront the grim acceptance that he might be the only one left alive.
Perhaps some of the unidentifiable remains he buried were those he once loved.
Torin's gaze lifted to the sky as dawn broke, the early morning sun casting light on his weathered face. With each journey southward, the signs of destruction waned, providing a glimmer of hope amidst desolation. He was now en route to the southernmost reaches he knew, where the land gradually showed signs of recovery. Over the months, the terrain grew less forbidding, and he eventually arrived in regions that appeared habitable once more.
Perhaps it was a consequence of the world-altering catastrophe, but the expected winter never arrived. Since that day, the air had remained unseasonably hot and dry.
Reluctantly, Torin ventured into the uncharted southern territories. His home village, once a humble community at the border of the Kingdom of Zaria, was now uninhabitable. The fertile fields he had once farmed lay barren and desolate. With a heavy heart, he bid farewell to the remnants of his past and the souls of those lost, seeking a new beginning beyond the reach of destruction.
He knew well that the kingdom's principal cities to the north had borne the brunt of the catastrophe, likely suffering even greater devastation than his own border village. As he surveyed the land stretching out before him, a sigh of relief escaped his lips. For the first time in many months, he tread on flat, stable ground— a stark contrast to the upheaved and jagged terrain he had left behind.
Far to the south, several hundred kilometers away, lay the small city of Ristoria, once a part of Zaria but now a renegade settlement under the rule of a ruthless lord. The king had exiled it from the kingdom, leaving its people to toil endlessly just to survive. Fearing enslavement, Torin decided against venturing too far south fearing that he would reach into Ristoria. Instead, he chose to settle near the boundary where the devastation ceased, where he could live freely without fear.
As a farmer from a rural village, Torin was well-versed in the basics of botany. It didn't take him long to identify edible plants and those best avoided. While foraging, a sudden sound caught his attention—the unmistakable splash of water. His eyes lit up, and he hurried towards the source. Pushing through a thicket of trees and bushes, he discovered a vast lake. The water was so pristine and clear it sparkled under the sunlight; a sight so breathtaking that Torin had never before seen such a beautiful body of water.
With palpable joy, Torin submerged himself in the lake, diligently washing away the accumulated grime of months spent wandering through devastation. It had been ages since he had properly cleansed himself; indeed, to say he smelled like a rotting corpse would scarcely capture the foulness. Far beyond the sheer relief of cleanliness, the presence of this abundant water source filled him with hope. Here, by this sparkling lake, he could cultivate the land, establish a farm, and finally cease his nomadic existence.
Unseen by Torin, a pair of dark eyes observed him from a nearby thicket. "It's another sinner," whispered a voice tinged with deep-seated hatred, watching Torin with malevolent intent.
As dusk approached, Torin crafted a makeshift fireplace using stones and dry leaves, adding branches from fallen trees to build a decent fire. He had caught several fish from the lake, which he now grilled over the open flames, savoring the simple yet satisfying meal.
With his hunger sated, darkness enveloped the landscape. Torin prepared for the night by fashioning a sleeping spot high in a tree. This new, unfamiliar territory demanded caution; the upheaval of the land might have spared few, if any, wild beasts, but he took no chances. Ensuring there was ample firewood to keep the flames alive through the night, he was about to ascend to his arboreal bed when disaster struck.
"SMACK!" A harsh, blunt impact against his skull sent shockwaves of pain radiating through his head. As he whirled around to confront his assailant, another blow landed, plunging his world into blackness.
"Hahaha! Another sinner...another sinner! The lord will reward me well!" The attacker's laughter rang out, cruel and triumphant, as he stood over his felled prey. The night closed in, swallowing the sounds and returning the wilderness to silence.
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"We shall obey your order!" Three voices rang out in unison, one male and two female. They belonged to the sect masters of the south, east, and west Immortal Sects, who were now bowing respectfully before a middle-aged man. To the uninformed observer, the sight of three Divine Accumulation powerhouses submitting to a single individual might come as a shock. Afterall, Divine Accumulation are the top powerful in this region. However, those with power and have broaden their horizon into the greater world would recognize this as a typical display of deference to a higher authority—after all, this man was a Divine Attendant of the Divine Coalition.
The middle-aged man stood clad in plain silver armor that belied the immense power he wielded. His sharp gaze seemed to pierce their very souls, radiating an authority that caused the three sect masters to tremble without him even displaying an ounce of his power or aura. He was of the True Divine Realm, a level of power that the sect masters had aspired to reach for millennia but had remained elusively out of their grasp, stuck at the peak of Divine Accumulation.
Though the Peak of Divine Accumulation Realm was just one tier below the True Divine Realm, the gulf in power was immense. It was so vast that they felt the middle-aged man could extinguish their lives with a mere slap if he so chose. Fortunately, such drastic measures were unnecessary; they were allies, after all.
In recent weeks, the Divine Attendant had arrived in this part of the Phoenix Continent. During his visit, the three sect masters had accompanied him, briefing him on all their findings. They reported the tragic demise of the Northern Fiery Sect's master and the sect's total annihilation and all their finding regarding the incident.
To their astonishment, the Divine Attendant issued a directive that left them reeling: "Return to the Grand Divine Coalition! Relocate all sects back!" The order was absolute.