The sky burned crimson, dyed in the blood of countless fallen warriors. An ancient battlefield stretched beyond sight, its once-glorious soil now a graveyard of shattered steel and forgotten dreams. The air reeked of death, the whispers of vengeful spirits echoing through the desolation.
At the center of it all stood a lone swordsman. His robes were in tatters, his body marred with wounds that refused to heal. And yet, his eyes burned with an unyielding will. Before him loomed a being that defied all reason—a presence that transcended mortality, beyond the laws of heaven and earth.
The Primordial Lord of Chaos.
"Mortal." The entity's voice rumbled like the crumbling of the cosmos itself. "You cannot kill me."
The swordsman coughed, crimson spilling from his lips, yet his grip on his blade never faltered. The Eternal Sword of Nirvana hummed softly in his grasp, resonating with his indomitable will.
"Then I will die trying."
With a final surge of power, he stepped forward, his blade flashing with the last radiance of an era's defiance. The sword pierced the abyssal core of the Lord of Chaos, and in that moment—
The heavens trembled.
The earth shattered.
The Great Dao itself wept.
The sword broke.
The heavens collapsed.
And the fabric of reality was torn asunder.
10,000 years later…
In a nameless village, forgotten by the grand sects and unworthy of even a passing glance from the cultivation world, a boy gazes at the sky. In his bones, he feels nothing but mortality. In his veins, there is not a trace of spiritual energy.
He does not yet know…
That the echoes of that ancient war will soon awaken once more.
And he will be the one to end it.