Night descended quietly upon the sacred mountain, but peace did not follow.
The snow no longer felt soft. Each flake that fell shimmered faintly with traces of divine will, as though the heavens themselves had begun to watch through the storm. The elders felt it first — an invisible weight pressing upon their souls, an aura that stifled breath and froze thought.
The Grand Elder stood atop the main hall, gazing toward the stars. What he saw made his heart tremble.
The constellations were shifting.
It was subtle, nearly imperceptible to mortal eyes — but for those attuned to the laws of the heavens, it was unmistakable. The Celestial Stars, which represented fate and order, were moving, rearranging themselves into new patterns. A new thread of destiny had appeared among them, one the heavens sought to erase.
And that thread… bore the name Feixue.
He clenched his fist. "They have marked her."
---
Inside the silent courtyard, Feixue sat alone beside the frozen lake. Her wooden sword lay across her lap, its edge reflecting the moonlight. She was calm, but her reflection on the ice did not look back at her—it shifted, distorted by unseen ripples.
She could feel something watching.
Not from the trees, not from the shadows, but from above — far beyond clouds and stars. An unseen gaze lingered upon her every breath, neither kind nor cruel, only cold.
"Why?" she whispered softly, her voice carried away by the wind. "Why do they fear me?"
The snow answered with silence.
She looked down at her reflection again. For an instant, it was not her face she saw, but countless others—eyes of gods, kings, and immortals—staring back, judging her very existence. Their whispers seeped through the frozen surface, faint and echoing.
> Anomaly…
Unborn calamity…
Erase her before she awakens fully…
Feixue's hand tightened around her sword. The ice beneath her cracked.
"I don't understand…" she murmured. "I haven't harmed anyone."
The world trembled. The whispering ceased, as if silenced by her voice alone. Snow began to rise from the ground, spiraling around her in quiet reverence.
In that moment, a soft, clear sound echoed in her mind — not from heaven, but from within her.
If the heavens cannot understand you… then you must make them listen.
Feixue blinked, unsure if it was a voice or a thought. But her pulse quickened, her body faintly glowing with cold light. The sword on her lap trembled, resonating with something unseen.
She rose slowly, her silver hair glimmering like falling stars.
At that exact moment, far across the Immortal Realm, divine messengers in the Celestial Courts felt a chill crawl down their spines. Scrolls of fate flickered, ink lines shifting violently. Names disappeared, rewritten by an unknown hand.
A heavenly priest gasped. "Impossible! A mortal child's fate is overwriting the flow of destiny itself!"
The Immortal Emperor himself opened his eyes from his golden throne, his voice echoing across the heavens.
> "So… she dares to breathe against the order of creation."
The stars dimmed.
---
Back on the mountain, the Grand Elder burst into Feixue's courtyard, eyes wide with alarm. "Feixue! The heavens have spoken your name in the scrolls of fate! If they send judgment again, our clan—"
He stopped.
Feixue stood in the center of the courtyard, her aura spreading softly like mist. Her sword glowed faintly, drawing frost patterns upon the air. Her expression was still calm… but her eyes had changed.
They no longer reflected only cold light — but faint threads of time itself, moving slowly, bending to her gaze.
Feixue looked toward the Grand Elder. "They spoke my name."
"Yes," he said hoarsely. "The heavens—"
"Then I will make them remember it."
The wind stopped. Snow froze in midair once again.
In her small body, her power began to stir like a sleeping storm.