In the cultivation world, there are many powerhouses, factions , clans and sects that represented the pillers of the cultivation world , the cultivation world could be divided in to three sections namely The mortal realm, The immortal realm and The sanctuary.
The mortal realm was the lowest of the cultivation world where the lowest cultivators could be found, no overwhelming talent could be birthed here because the qi in the atmosphere could only amount to so much.
It could be said that this place was the outskirts of the world of cultivation, but it could also be seen as the safest place to the weaklings . In this world strength was all that matters.Thieves or saints , kings or slaves, all this titles could be flipped over with just a matter of ranking and muscles.
There were also some less talented or weaker cultivators who couldn't find enlightenment in the way of the Dao but chose to dabble in other professions such as ; alchemy , blacksmith , artisans of different skills, some even delved into different arts to atleast gain a foothold in this world.
Back to the cultivators, there were still some division that could be seen as minor but not so minor.
The cultivators of the mortal realm due to the limited qi in the air could only rely on some inheritances left behind by some experts who long ago left for the immortal realm or lost their lives in an attempt to cross to the upper realms.
There were different types of inheritances ,. The bloodline inheritance, The cultivation method inheritance and finally Treasure inheritance also known as heirloom .
The people who owned the bloodline inheritances were nobles in the society, they held the most power, they were called clans. The had strict marriage rules and would never allow their bloodline to flow out of the family (clan). Meanwhile the cultivation method inheritance owners could also be called nobles but in a different sense, they were neutral in the society, they were called Sects. They took in talents from far and wide and thought them how to cultivate, grew and nurtured many powerhouses that now stood at the pinnacle of the mortal realm.
The treasure inheritors could be anyone, it all depended on your luck and that was who Feng douqi happened to be .
He came across this tomb in the depths of the thousand beast mountain range. As a rouge cultivator who was already coming to the end of his lifespan , he could only travel around the mortal realm searching for an opportunity to breakthrough and finally leave this tiny mortal realm all to no avail. But when he finally decided to give up and rest he came across the cave in which he got what made his name resound in every corner of the mortal realm.
The dragon breath sword.
This was a unique grade treasure because it couldnt be ranked following the norm of the rankings, it can be what the cultivator wanted it to be and in the right hands ,the dragon breath sword could only be described as terror. This sword was unique because a weak-minded person will eventually just have it as an ordinary shiny sword, a fierce person will bring out the very fiery spirit of the sword and a strong minded person will use it in shaking the world, but was that all a lofty dragon amounted to ?
The answer was NO
The dragon breath sword was the embodiment of a dragon just in sword form and Feng douqi managed to pull out 50% of this sword's potential but he still shook the world till he finally ascended to the immortal realm.
He trained and trained, gaining enlightenment and acknowledgement from the deities of flames themselves, he became a god of fire that at the mention of his name , even the heavens seemed to tremble and cower for a moment.
On this very day Feng douqi kept staring at this priced treasure that made him into someone who was on par with those ancestral grade clans, today was the day he was going to once again bath this sword in blood of his enemies.
He wanted to carve his very name into the soul of his enemies but deep down he knew his strength despite being so much and increasing after over 10 millenniums had finally reached the peak of what his talent could muster, he couldn't seem to find a way round this roadblock and the only way he could think of was to gain more acknowledgement from this very sword.
But he didn't know how to, he spent years trying till now he had ran out of time. He had to go now, battle calls , he answers, he wasn't the type of man to cower in weakness , he wasn't worried that his strength wasn't enough, he wasn't afraid of dying, he was afraid of dying without giving his hundred percent,.
And the time finally came, the skies rumbled and groan in agony, lightening cackled across the dark skies. The mortal realm trembled , the immortal realm whimpered, Feng douqi stood atop the mountain as draconic flames danced around his majestic armor, he stared down into the misty valley as he could hear the wailing of dying warriors.
With his mind stilled he dived down into the valley as he brandished his dragon breath sword, raising it above his head and slamming down with all his might, as if on cue a lightning bolt slammed down atop the mountain. This marked the momentous entry of the legendary flame dragon war god Feng douqi onto his last battle field.
After months the battle sounds finally died down in the valley leaving behind a strong and intoxicating smell of blood and an untamed aura of death in the air.
After thousands of years, a weak floating wraith floated aimlessly and finally latched unto the god body of the legendary flamed dragon war god, the essence of flame was still tangible around his now frizzled corpse, although the flames was the opposite of the yin energy in the air, it was still potent enough to repel the mist away from the body of Feng douqi, but due to the long passage of time it has significantly weakened but not to the point that it was useless.
The last dregs of essence that remained on his body was being absorbed by this tattooed wraith , whether consciously or subconsciously the wraith floated a little bit forward and latched onto the body that laid right beneath a rusty sword, it seemed as though it was impatient and couldn't get enough of the essence radiating from the god corpses.
Slowly but surely the mist crept closer and closer to the bodies after milleniums of being repelled away.
Days passed , weeks passed , months passed and finally after one year, the wraith finally loosened it latches from the bodies a bit, but that was just a bit, it still didn't let go...
Back in the outside world, sects had their gates wide open , receiving candidates from all over the realm, cus in two weeks time the examinations for the acceptance into the various sects will begin.
The rowdy atmosphere in the human realm went on oblivious to the fact that just one impulsive action of a lowly commoner who died about two years ago had birthed a monstrousity that wasn't too far off from paying them a visit...
After about a week, deep in the inner region of the misty valleys,crimson flames as hot as those from hell itself flickered awake in the sockets of a wraith that seem to be both drunken and in a daze at the same time.
For the first time in millions of years the wraith finally stood still without floating about, the flames in it's eyes were blending together with the cold mist giving a much darker tint, although flames were of the yang especially dragon flames which were total opposite of the yin energy everywhere in the mist valley, maybe it was some type of mutation or god knows what, this flames where now being mixed together with the dense death energy that rolled off the body of the wraith endlessly and forming together in a much darker flame that made the fabric of space in the vicinity tremble....
"Sigh" ....in the eternal silence of the graveyard of the gods, sound was finally heard, sound that didn't seem to be the wailing of ghosts or whimpering of spectres or the whooshing of wraiths, but a gentle sigh of the unknown....