The lantern burned low, its glow casting shadows over the bloodstains that still clung to the floor. Xiangyin stood frozen, her violet eyes locked on Haotian. She had seen his body torn to ribbons, only to knit itself back together before her eyes — a horror and miracle she could scarcely comprehend.
Her voice was sharp, almost desperate. "Tell me the truth. The alchemy hall. The forge. And this—" her gaze flicked to the crimson streaks staining the floorboards, "—this madness you put yourself through every night. What is it all for?"
Haotian's breath was steady, but his golden eyes carried the weight of storms. He was silent for a long time, then spoke, his tone low and firm.
"The seal will break."
Xiangyin blinked. "…The Sea Bridge Seal?"
He nodded. "The demons will come. It is not a question of if. It is a question of when. When that day arrives, we cannot rely on Sovereigns or Emperors to save us. We must be ready ourselves."
He straightened slightly, though weariness clung to his movements. "Alter is training me in the Demon God Killing Martial Arts. Each strike is meant to kill gods, demons, beings who walk above mortals. But the price is that every strike tears me apart. That is why you found me like this."
Xiangyin's heart pounded, her throat dry. "…So the pills."
"Yes." Haotian's tone was matter-of-fact. "The pills I had weren't enough. Even the Undying Dragon Body Sutra cannot keep pace with the damage. I had to create something greater — sovereign-tier restoratives that could rebuild flesh, marrow, and meridians instantly. That was the alchemy hall incident."
His gaze flickered toward her, calm and unwavering. "The forge… that was curiosity. But not idleness. My Dao is the Dao of the Universe. To walk it is to see the flaws in every path — alchemy, forging, formations — and correct them. The forge was no different. My Dao would not allow me to look away."
He leaned forward, his voice gaining quiet weight. "But the real reason I endure this training, Sect Master, is because when the seal breaks, the demons won't come as beasts. They will come as Sovereigns. Perhaps even Emperors. If I don't bleed now, if I don't master this martial art, then when that day arrives, we all bleed instead."
The silence was heavy, suffocating.
Xiangyin's hands trembled faintly at her sides. She had expected arrogance, excuses, some hidden scheme. Instead, she was met with the unshakable truth: a boy breaking himself nightly, not for pride, but for war.
Her voice cracked despite herself. "…You bleed yourself to death every night… because you believe none of us can stand against what's coming."
Haotian's golden eyes held hers, steady and calm. "Not believe. Know. The invasion is inevitable. The question is whether we meet it prepared, or we perish."
The words hung in the air, heavy as a funeral bell.
The chamber smelled of blood, though Haotian's body was already whole again. The lantern flickered against the streaks on the floor, silent testimony to the torment he endured nightly.
Xiangyin stood in place, her violet eyes trembling. She had seen many things in her centuries of cultivation — the rise and fall of sects, Sovereigns breaking through, Saints perishing in silence — but never had she seen someone destroy themselves willingly, only to rise again stronger.
She drew a long, steady breath. Her voice, when it came, was softer, no longer the sharp edge of command. "…Then this is truly for the invasion."
Haotian nodded once. His golden eyes burned steady.
Silence hung for several breaths. Then Xiangyin's shoulders eased, the frost of her expression thawing into quiet resolve. She stepped closer, her hand brushing faintly across the table before she spoke.
"Then I will swear."
Haotian tilted his head.
Xiangyin lifted her hand, a faint glow of violet qi coiling around her wrist. Her voice was clear, solemn. "By my dao heart and Sovereign will, I swear: I will keep your secret. No one outside this room will know what you endure in the night. The forge, the alchemy, this training of blood — it remains between us."
The oath shimmered briefly, dissolving into the air.
She lowered her hand, her expression soft but firm. "But hear me, Haotian. Do not go too far. There are seven hundred and fifty maidens who call you Senior Brother. They rely on you. If you break yourself beyond repair, their path breaks too."
For the first time that night, Haotian smiled. The weariness did not vanish, but the warmth of it was genuine.
"Thank you, Sect Master. For the reminder."
He straightened, his voice quiet but filled with conviction. "But this is why I do it. For them. And for many others. If my body must break a thousand times so they can live free of chains, then I will break it without hesitation."
Xiangyin's throat tightened. She looked at him, this blood-soaked boy who spoke as though he bore the weight of the heavens, and for a moment, she forgot he was young at all.
"…Then I will stand with you," she said softly. "No matter how far the storm reaches."
The lantern's flame swayed, and the chamber fell into silence — the oath binding them, the resolve set, and the war creeping closer with every breath.
One month later.
The Eternal Yin Orchid Sect was flourishing in its new era. The Frost Jade Tree glimmered brighter than ever, the bathhouse pulsed with heavenly treasures, disciples whispered of endless breakthroughs. But while the sect prospered, Haotian bled in silence every night.
And tonight, it all came to this.
In the golden battlefield of his sea of consciousness, Alter stood across from him, arms folded, his expression sharp but unreadable. "You've clawed your way through seventeen strikes. Your body should be dead a hundred times over. But you stand."
Haotian's breath steamed in the void, his golden eyes narrowed with iron focus. "Then let's finish this."
Alter's voice deepened, carrying weight like a verdict. "The Eighteenth Strike. Creator's Banishment."
He raised his hand, and the battlefield itself shook. Space splintered, the sky cracked, the ground bled light. Shadows of gods and demons flickered into view, only to be erased in an instant by the strike's phantom afterimage.
"This technique doesn't just kill," Alter said, his gaze unwavering. "It erases. The target's core, their soul, their divinity, even their anchor in time — unmade. There is no resurrection, no cycle. This strike removes them from reality itself."
Haotian's heart hammered, sweat dampening his brow despite this being only his inner world. "…And the cost?"
Alter's eyes narrowed. "Everything. To perform it once is to burn every vein of your existence. If your control falters, you'll annihilate yourself before the enemy. That's why it's the final strike."
The air trembled. Haotian clenched his fists. No choice. The invasion is coming. If an Emperor or a god walks out of that abyss, only this will matter.
He took his stance. His aura blazed, golden light crackling across his flesh, his three cores igniting together until his body screamed from the strain.
He roared, his veins splitting open, blood spraying into the air — but he did not stop. His body fractured into dozens of afterimages, each flickering into position, each fist raised.
BOOOOM!
One afterimage struck. Then another. Then another.
Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands.
Each strike layered atop the other, perfectly synchronized, collapsing into a single point of infinite force. Space shattered, time screamed, the battlefield warped under the pressure.
Haotian's body tore apart — bones snapping, muscles splitting, golden blood pouring from his mouth, eyes, ears. His consciousness dimmed under the agony.
But his fists did not stop.
The storm of afterimages converged, collapsing into one single blow.
CRRRRRAAACK—
The battlefield's sky split open, revealing a void of pure nothingness. The strike's force howled outward, erasing everything it touched. Phantoms of gods, demons, stars themselves flickered — then vanished, as though they had never existed.
Haotian staggered, his body dissolving into pieces, vision dimming.
Alter's voice cut through the destruction, sharp and unyielding. "That… is the Eighteenth. The Creator's Banishment."
Haotian collapsed to his knees, blood spilling onto fractured ground. His breath came ragged, shallow. His body looked more corpse than flesh.
But his golden eyes still burned.
"…Again."
Alter's lips curved faintly, pride and steel mingled in his gaze. "Good. You're ready to bleed for the world."
Morning light spilled across the Eternal Yin Orchid Sect, gilding the mountain peaks in silver. Disciples bustled in the courtyards, bowing to one another, whispering of their breakthroughs, training with renewed vigor. None knew that while they slept peacefully, their Senior Brother had torn himself apart in the void of his sea of consciousness, wrestling with a strike meant to erase gods.
Haotian stepped out from his chamber, robes immaculate, body whole. His golden eyes shone as if he had spent the night in quiet meditation, not on the brink of death. His steps were steady, his aura calm.
He walked through the sect until he reached the Sect Master's pavilion. Xiangyin was already waiting, standing by the railing with her violet robes trailing in the morning breeze. She studied him carefully, her sharp eyes searching for cracks that weren't there.
"You've finished," she said quietly.
Haotian inclined his head. "The training is complete. But I must digest it, temper it, and truly make it mine. That requires real battle. I'll need to leave the sect for a time."
Xiangyin's lips pressed thin, but she nodded. "Then go. The sect will be here when you return. Just… do not vanish without word again."
Haotian smiled faintly. "You have my word, Sect Master."
He turned, but before he left the mountain paths, he veered toward the Moon Lotus Pavilion.
The moment he stepped through the gates, three figures rushed to meet him — Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue. Their faces lit up with bright smiles, their eyes soft with warmth and relief.
"Senior Brother!" Shuyue's voice was light with joy."You've finally come," Ziyue added, her sternness cracking into something gentler.Yinxue said nothing, but the curve of her lips betrayed her gladness.
Haotian's chest softened. He could see it in their faces — they had been waiting for him, quietly enduring his long nights of absence. Since he began training under Alter, he hadn't spent a single night with them. And yet, here they were, smiling as if nothing mattered more than seeing him now.
He exhaled, his golden eyes warm. "Come," he said, his voice carrying both affection and calm strength. "Walk with me."
The three sisters exchanged glances, their smiles widening, and without hesitation, they fell into step at his side.
For the first time in weeks, Haotian allowed himself the peace of simply walking — surrounded not by blood or fire, but by those who called him Senior Brother.
The mountain breeze carried the scent of frost and lotus petals as Haotian walked slowly along the stone paths of the Moon Lotus Pavilion. At his side, Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue kept close, their steps light, their gazes never leaving him.
For a long while, they said nothing, content just to walk beside him. Then Shuyue, as always the first to break the silence, tilted her head up with a pout. "Senior Brother… do you know how long we've been waiting? Every night, the lights in your chamber burned, but you never came."
Her voice was half complaint, half relief, her hand brushing lightly at his sleeve as though to make sure he was truly there.
Ziyue, normally firm, exhaled softly. "We tried not to disturb you. But… hearing you struggle alone, knowing you were tearing yourself apart while we did nothing—" She bit her lip, her voice trembling for once. "It was harder than you think."
Yinxue, calm and composed as always, glanced at him sidelong. Her lips curved faintly. "I told them you wouldn't break. But even I…" Her voice lowered, softer. "…Even I found myself staring at your door some nights, wondering if you would step out at all."
Haotian's heart warmed at their words. He slowed his steps, looking at each of them with a quiet smile. "I know. And I thank you for enduring."
He stopped at the edge of the Pavilion courtyard, the Frost Jade Tree glittering faintly in the morning light. Turning to face the three sisters, he spoke clearly.
"My training is complete — but not yet mastered. To temper the final strike, I'll need to leave, to fight and train beyond these walls."
Their faces fell slightly, but before they could protest, he raised a hand and smiled gently.
"But before I go… I want to leave a gift. For all of the Moon Lotus Pavilion."
He lifted his hand, golden light flickering across his fingertips. Then, with a touch as soft as a falling feather, he tapped each of their foreheads in turn.
BOOM.
A flood of luminous glyphs burst into their minds, radiant lotus blossoms blooming in their consciousness. It was not the old Moon Lotus Codex — it was reborn, rewritten, elevated. Each rune pulsed with a resonance they had never felt before, expanding their inner worlds and reshaping the path forward.
Their eyes widened in shock.
"This…" Yinxue whispered. "This isn't the codex we've practiced all our lives."
Haotian nodded. "No. This is the new Moon Lotus Codex. Rewritten from the ground up. With it, you will no longer be bound at the Saint's peak. This method will allow you to break through to the Heavenly Tribulation Realm—one realm short of Emperor."
The three sisters froze, the weight of his words crashing over them. Shuyue's hands flew to her lips. "Senior Brother… you— you rewrote our cultivation method!?"
Ziyue's breath trembled. "…Do you understand what this means? For the Pavilion, for all the disciples—"
Haotian smiled faintly. "I do. That is why I leave this with you. So even if I am gone, the Moon Lotus Pavilion will rise. And when the storm comes, you will not be weak."
For once, even Yinxue's composure cracked. She blinked rapidly, her lips parting as though to speak, but no words came. At last, she only reached out and squeezed his hand.
Haotian looked at the three of them — the sisters who had endured his absence, who had smiled at him even after weeks of waiting — and for the first time in many nights, his heart felt light.
Morning bells rang across the Eternal Yin Orchid Sect, echoing down the misty valleys. Disciples gathered at the Moon Lotus Pavilion, the Frost Jade Tree glittering in the courtyard like a beacon. Hundreds of maidens stood in orderly rows, whispers running through them like ripples on a pond.
Today, their Senior Brother would depart.
Haotian stood at the front, robes white and gold, his aura calm and steady. Behind him, Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue stood close, their gazes never leaving him.
He raised his hand, and silence fell.
"The Moon Lotus Codex has guided you for generations," he said, his voice carrying clearly across the courtyard. "But it was bound to the Saint's peak. No longer."
He lifted his palm, golden light bursting outward. Glyphs like lotus blossoms spun from his hand, flowing across the crowd. Each disciple gasped as the cultivation method etched itself into their minds — the reborn New Moon Lotus Codex.
"With this," Haotian continued, "you will step beyond those limits. To the Heavenly Tribulation Realm. One step short of Emperor. The Pavilion will never again be bound by ceilings others set for you."
The disciples stood frozen, their eyes wide, tears forming in more than a few.
Haotian lowered his hand. "I will leave now, to temper my final strike in real battles, to merge the arts into their full form. But know this: every drop of blood I shed, every night of suffering… it is for this. For you."
For a moment, silence held — then the three sisters moved as one. Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue stepped forward and wrapped their arms around him, embracing him in front of all.
Gasps rippled through the assembly.
But Haotian did not push them away. Instead, he smiled faintly, resting his arms around them. Then, with calm certainty, he tilted his head and kissed Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue each in turn.
The courtyard erupted. Orchid disciples turned scarlet, covering their faces with trembling hands. Moon Lotus maidens blushed furiously, their hearts thundering.
Even Xiangyin, watching from her place among the elders, felt her composure waver. Her eyes flickered, her lips tightening — not from anger, but realization. So that is why they rise so quickly. Why he bears so much pain. They are not merely his companions. They are his dao partners.
The three sisters held onto him for a final moment, eyes shimmering, before letting go.
Haotian turned back to the assembly, his golden eyes sweeping across the crowd one last time. He gave a small bow, calm and resolute.
"Until I return."
Then his aura surged. Golden light flared around him as he rose into the sky, his robes snapping in the wind. Higher and higher he climbed until his figure was a streak of light vanishing beyond the clouds.
Below, hundreds of disciples stood in stunned silence, their hearts burning.
The legend of their Senior Brother only grew that day.
The wind howled past Haotian as he cut through the skies, golden light trailing behind him. The world below was a blur of forests and rivers — but his focus wavered when a golden script suddenly flickered inside his sea of consciousness.
"Come in. We need to talk."
Haotian's heart stirred. Alter.
He landed lightly on a lonely mountain peak, folding his robes around him as he sat cross-legged. Closing his eyes, his spirit slipped inward.
The golden battlefield stretched before him once again, but Alter no longer stood like the radiant figure of old. He was there, yes, but his form flickered dimly, light fraying at the edges. His hair of shimmering fire looked dulled, his presence heavy with exhaustion.
"Alter…" Haotian muttered, worry tugging at his chest.
Alter gave him a crooked grin. "Don't look at me like I'm dying. I'm just tired. But before I sleep, I need to give you something."
He raised his hand. His finger glowed faintly, then shot a small orb of chi straight into Haotian's forehead.
BOOOM.
Inside Haotian's Golden Text Library, four radiant tomes materialized, each one humming with authority. Their covers bore draconic glyphs, their spines thrummed with power beyond Saints.
Haotian's eyes widened. "What is this?"
Alter's smile softened. "Cultivation texts. For your ancestors. Their realm is still stuck at the peak of Saint. With these manuals, they can break through — all the way to the peak of Emperor Realm."
Haotian staggered back in shock. "Peak… Emperor Realm!?"
Alter chuckled. "Exactly. Give it to them. With their strength restored, you won't be carrying everything alone."
Haotian hesitated, then asked quietly, "…And me?"
Alter's grin turned into a laugh, though his light flickered faintly. "You already have what you need. The Heaven Sundering Trinity Scripture. That will carry you past all this — straight into the Immortal Realm. Why are you whining for another?"
Haotian frowned. "Because it's too slow."
Alter snorted. "Brat, it's not slow. You're just leaning too much on those eyes of yours. You skim the surface instead of digging into the fundamentals. Read the scripture again. Understand it. You'll find it has more layers than you can imagine. I made sure it wasn't something you could break open just by staring."
Haotian gritted his teeth, but bowed his head. "…I understand."
Alter's shoulders sagged, his form dimming further. "Good. Because I'm done for now. I'm seriously struggling to stay awake."
Haotian's voice was quiet. "…When will you wake again?"
Alter shook his head. "Hard to tell. But you'll know when I do."
Haotian cupped his fists and bowed deeply. "Then… thank you. For everything."
Alter let out a tired laugh, his grin still wicked despite the exhaustion. "Maybe next time I'll teach you my World-Destroying Divine Heaven's Sword Art."
Haotian's breath caught. "World… destroying—"
"Don't get greedy!" Alter barked, flicking his hand. "Get going! You've got ancestors to visit."
Before Haotian could reply, a burst of golden force struck him, hurling him out of the sea of consciousness.
He jolted awake on the mountain peak, the morning wind brushing across his face. He rubbed his temples, exhaling. "…Jeez. A world-destroying sword art? He really doesn't know how to take it easy."
But his eyes hardened. He turned, changing direction mid-flight.
It was time to find the Four Saint Dragons.