The night was bitterly cold. The moon hung high, casting its pale glow upon the blood-soaked earth. In the heart of the Jiang Clan's Martial Arena, a lone figure lay motionless, his robes tattered, his body broken.
Jiang Chen coughed violently, a mouthful of blood spilling onto the cold stone floor. His once-bright eyes, filled with intelligence and ambition, were now dim, reflecting nothing but betrayal and despair.
"Pathetic," a cold voice sneered.
Jiang Chen struggled to lift his head, his blurred vision focusing on the tall, arrogant figure standing before him—Jiang Tian, his own cousin.
"Jiang Chen, you were once the pride of the clan, a so-called genius." Jiang Tian's lips curled into a cruel smirk. "But what is a genius without power? A cripple like you has no right to exist in the cultivation world."
Jiang Chen's fists clenched. He had once been the brightest talent of the younger generation, destined to soar to great heights. But fate was cruel—his dantian was shattered during a mysterious accident a year ago, rendering him incapable of cultivating. From that moment, his status plummeted, and those who once respected him turned their backs.
Even his own clan elders abandoned him.
Even his family cast him aside.
And now, his own cousin—the very one he had once guided in cultivation—stood above him, prepared to deliver the final blow.
"You… betrayed me," Jiang Chen rasped, his voice hoarse from pain.
"Betrayed?" Jiang Tian laughed. "No, Jiang Chen. This is simply survival of the fittest. The weak have no place in this world. You should thank me for ending your miserable existence."
He raised his sword, the tip gleaming under the moonlight.
Jiang Chen closed his eyes. Was this how it ended? Once the rising star, now reduced to nothing but a stepping stone for another.
The sword came down.
But at that moment—
BOOM!
A thunderous explosion rocked the night. A surge of ancient energy burst forth from beneath the arena, shattering the ground. Jiang Tian was thrown back, crashing into a stone pillar with a cry of shock.
A black vortex swirled into existence beneath Jiang Chen, consuming everything in its wake. The void itself trembled.
Jiang Chen felt his body being pulled in, but strangely, there was no fear. Instead, a whisper echoed in his mind—a voice ancient and boundless, carrying the weight of time itself.
"Child of fate… do you seek vengeance?"
Jiang Chen's breath hitched. Was this an illusion? A hallucination in his final moments?
"Do you seek power?" the voice whispered again.
Power.
That word burned in his soul like a raging inferno. He had lost everything. He had been abandoned, betrayed, crushed beneath the weight of his own weakness.
Did he seek power?
Yes.
More than anything.
With the last of his will, Jiang Chen forced his lips to move.
"I… do."
The vortex roared, swallowing him whole.
The last thing he heard before darkness claimed him was the voice's final whisper—
"Then embrace the Void."