The night was silent—eerily silent
On top of Blackwind Mountain, the main hall of the once-mighty Blackwind Sect lay in ruins. The grand pillars that once held the roof now lay shattered on the blood-stained ground, and the scent of smoke, ash, and iron drifted in the cold wind.
Vạn Thiên Phong stood at the center of it all.
His robes were soaked in blood—some his own, most not. His eyes, sharp like a blade unsheathed, scanned the survivors kneeling before him. Dozens of inner disciples trembled under his gaze. Not long ago, they had mocked him, bullied him, called him trash, waste, a disgrace to the sect.
Now?
They didn't even dare breathe too loudly.
A crooked smile formed on his lips.
"The world sure is funny," he said, his voice calm, but every word carried a bone-chilling edge. "A few weeks ago, you wouldn't even look me in the eye. Today… you bow."
He walked slowly, the tip of his sword dragging on the stone floor, leaving a trail of red behind. The disciples shrank back instinctively, their foreheads pressing harder against the ground.
"S-Senior Brother Phong… please… w-we were wrong—!"
Clang.
His sword fell onto the floor beside one of them.
The disciple froze. He didn't dare look up.
Phong leaned down, whispering, "I wonder… if I slice off your tongue, will your lies finally stop?"
The man whimpered. He had no answer.
"Relax," Phong chuckled. "I'm not interested in garbage. Tell the others—whoever raises a hand against me… loses it. Whoever raises their voice… loses their tongue. And whoever thinks they're above me…"
He lifted his sword.
Slice!
A scream tore through the night.
"…loses their head."
Blood sprayed across the marble floor.
No one else made a sound.
---
Meanwhile, far to the East…
At the Skyfire Pavilion, a massive floating palace among the clouds, a woman in white stood silently in front of a massive scrying mirror.
Her name was Bạch Tiêu Nhiên.
Her expression was calm, but her eyes—clear like frozen jade—were focused intensely on the image within the mirror: Vạn Thiên Phong, standing among corpses, laughing like a devil risen from the abyss.
"He's awakened," she murmured.
Behind her, a tall man cloaked in silver stepped forward and knelt. "Mistress, his soul… it doesn't belong to this world, does it?"
"No," she replied. "It's not of this realm. It's something older. More dangerous."
"But… he used to be a nobody. How did—?"
"He didn't awaken power. He remembered it."
The man trembled. "Shall we eliminate him before he grows stronger?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she stared deeper into the mirror… and for the first time in many years, a flicker of emotion crossed her face.
Curiosity.
"…No," she said finally. "Let him grow. I want to see how far he can go. I want to see what the villain in the shadows… truly desires."
---
Back at Blackwind Sect
After the massacre, silence fell. Only the sound of wind whistled through the ruins.
Phong stood alone on the peak. Above him, the full moon hung low—its pale light washing over his face, highlighting the madness in his smirk.
He closed his eyes.
Inside his mind, two voices spoke.
One—cold and calculating:
"You've only begun. This world is built on lies and weakness. Burn it."
The other—deep, ancient, and violent:
"Let them kneel. Let them break. Let them scream your name in fear."
He opened his eyes, sharp and focused.
"No," he said to them both. "Let them worship me first."
---
A week later
News of the Blackwind Sect's fall spread like wildfire.
Entire clans began trembling at the mention of "Vạn Thiên Phong." But no one knew his true origin, or why a disgraced disciple now held the power to destroy entire sects. Rumors clashed:
"He's possessed by a demon!"
"No, he made a pact with the Abyss!"
"Fool, he's the reincarnation of an ancient emperor!"
Whatever the truth was, one thing became clear—he was unstoppable.
But Phong had no interest in fame.
He was searching for something.
Or rather… someone.
---
Night. Deep inside a ruined temple
A girl lay unconscious on a stone altar. Her white robes were stained with blood, her breathing faint but steady.
Phong stood beside her, eyes narrowed.
"Bạch Tiêu Nhiên…" he murmured.
He had found her.
Not the proud, untouchable genius of Skyfire Pavilion—but a version of her sealed away in this temple… bound by ancient chains of cursed jade.
He didn't know why there were two versions of her in this world, but one thing was certain:
This one had something the other didn't—memories.
His hand reached out, brushing a strand of her hair aside.
"Who are you really?" he asked softly. "Why does your face haunt my dreams… even before I woke up in this world?"
She stirred, just slightly.
And then—her eyes opened.
A flash of silver light burst forth, knocking him backward.
Phong landed on his feet, sword already drawn.
The girl sat up slowly. Her gaze met his, and in that moment, the world seemed to freeze.
"Vạn Thiên Phong," she said, her voice calm, ethereal.
He narrowed his eyes. "You know me?"
She nodded. "I knew you… before the sky shattered."
"What?"
She looked at him with a strange smile. "You're not a villain… not yet. But you will be."
His grip tightened on the sword. "Speak clearly."
The girl rose to her feet, chains rattling.
"You think this world is real? That you were reincarnated here?" She chuckled. "No. This world… is a prison."
Phong's heart skipped a beat.
She pointed to the sky.
"There are higher realms beyond this one. And someone… doesn't want you to reach them."
"Who?"
She looked at him with a glint of sorrow in her eyes.
"…The Heavens."
[end of chapter 7]