The storm had ended, but the mountain no longer breathed.
The once-proud peaks of the Feixue Clan stood fractured and broken, wrapped in lingering frost and the golden ashes of celestial light. The sacred halls had collapsed; countless disciples lay unconscious, their immortal veins shattered by the echo of divine power.
Only silence remained.
Feixue stood at the heart of the devastation, her white robe untouched by blood or dust. Around her, the snow rose and fell in slow rhythm, as if the mountain itself obeyed her sorrow.
She could still feel the lingering warmth of her Grand Elder's life force fading beside her.
He was kneeling on the cracked earth, his hands gripping his staff to stay upright. The wrinkles on his face seemed deeper, his immortal glow dimmed.
Feixue looked at him quietly. "You're… fading."
The old man chuckled weakly, his voice rasping like wind through dry leaves. "My time was spent long ago, child. The heavens simply reminded me."
He reached out a trembling hand and placed it gently atop her head. His touch was faint but warm.
"You've silenced judgment itself," he said, pride flickering through his dimming eyes. "But remember, little one — silence can protect… or it can erase."
Feixue's gaze lowered. The frost beneath her feet glimmered faintly, reflecting two figures — a dying elder, and a girl who had slain divine will.
"I didn't want this," she whispered. "I only wanted peace."
The Grand Elder smiled softly. "Peace does not come to those who disturb the heavens, Feixue. It is not your curse — it is your destiny."
He coughed, blood staining the snow. "Leave this place. The heavens will not stop. If you remain, they will destroy all that still lives here. But beyond this mountain… there are realms untainted by their gaze."
Feixue looked at him. "Beyond?"
He nodded slowly. "Go beyond the clouds, to the Immortal Cities. Seek your path. One day, you will understand what you are… and why even heaven trembles before you."
A gust of wind swept the courtyard. The old man's body shimmered faintly, dissolving into countless snowflakes that drifted upward — returning to the sky he had served all his life.
Feixue stood still, her small hand closing around the empty air where he had been.
For the first time, her cold eyes softened.
"Goodbye… Elder."
The snow around her trembled as if responding to her grief. Then, with a faint hum, the ice began to melt — not from heat, but from her will alone. The mountain's burden lightened. The air grew calm once more.
---
That night, she stood upon the highest cliff. Below her, the remnants of her clan glowed faintly under the moonlight. Her hair fluttered in the wind, silver strands reflecting starlight like blades.
She turned her gaze upward — to the endless sky where the heavens had once descended.
There was no anger in her eyes. Only quiet resolve.
"If heaven fears me," she murmured, "then I will learn why."
She raised her wooden sword, its tip pointing toward the horizon.
The night wind howled, and for an instant, it sounded almost like a voice — ancient, distant, and proud.
Snow rose around her feet, spiraling upward. Each flake shimmered like a star. The mountain seemed to bow as she took her first step forward.
With that single step, the world around her rippled.
The frozen mountain blurred into mist, and the endless expanse of the Immortal Realm revealed itself beyond the veil — a sea of floating continents, radiant cities of jade and light, and divine rivers that flowed between worlds.
Feixue's eyes reflected that vast, infinite sky.
Her journey had begun.