The gunfire never stopped. Light pulsed across the forest as red and blue explosions clashed, the air thick with smoke and the sharp scent of burnt qi.
Han Chen crouched behind a fallen log, panting lightly. He checked his rifle's glowing magazine—half full. The weapon hummed, circuits pulsing faintly with stored spiritual energy that wasn't his.
He glanced at the carnage ahead. Bodies—some scorched, some lifeless—were scattered among the blackened trees. The battlefield seethed with killing intent and something darker, something only he noticed. "So much death qi," he thought quietly, his expression unreadable. "What a pity… I can only harvest from the ones I kill myself."
He looked toward the smoke haze, where flashes of fire still burst intermittently. "I've only killed one so far… another's injured, but not dead. I need to speed up." He felt the faint tug of greed in his chest before he suppressed it with a breath. "But foundation establishment cultivators are everywhere. Even the weaker ones could crush me if I make a mistake. I'm just a five-star qi condensation." Han Chen brushed a bit of ash from the rifle, feeling the fine grooves along the barrel.
"If not for this grade-one weapon, I'd already be dead." He remembered what his instructor had once said: even mid-tier foundation cultivators wouldn't escape a direct hit from that gun. It wasn't powered by his qi—but by the spiritual energy inside magazines imported from the Polish army.
A foreign design, unreliable in long warfare, yet devastating in bursts. "Limited ammo," he murmured, sliding another round into place. "But at least it doesn't drain my energy."
The battle thundered closer. Blue and red bursts flickered like storms in the distance. Captain Cai's voice echoed sharply through the radio, issuing commands, rallying the lines as Vice-Captain Rhun reorganized fire arcs. Then, all at once, the rhythm of battle changed. The Fire Alliance lines stopped advancing. Murmurs rippled among them.
Their captain's aura flared as he stepped to the front, shouting loud enough for both sides to hear. "Hold fire!"
The gunfire died down, replaced by faint crackles of burning wood. Captain Cai frowned. "What's going on? Why stop now?" The Fire Alliance captain smirked faintly through the smoke. "Alright," he yelled across the field, "our mission is complete. Fall back!" A wave of confusion swept through Cai's troops.
Even her vice-captain paused mid-command."What is he talking about?" Rhun asked. But the answer came a second later when the Fire Alliance captain added, his voice cutting through the haze, "The squad that will deal with you is already on the way—the Crimson Squad of the 7th Regiment."
At that name, several of Cai's soldiers stiffened. Some looked at each other in disbelief. Even the vice-captain muttered under his breath, "The Crimson Squad…? They're sending a single-digit regiment down here?" The number alone was enough to drain color from the air.
Lower-numbered regiments meant elite formations—each led by core formation cultivators of terrifying power. "Unbelievable…" Rhun whispered, "they're wasting such a force on a border fight?"
But Cai's sharp gaze saw something else—weariness in the Fire Alliance soldiers, shifting stances, unstable flames. "No," she muttered, "they're bluffing. They're not fresh reinforcements. They've been fighting before arriving." And indeed, not far beyond the tree line, red-dyed uniforms began to appear—burnt, tattered, armor cracked from earlier damage.
The Crimson Squad of the 7th Regiment entered the clearing, moving with practiced discipline despite their injuries. Each one radiated power even in their exhaustion—the faint heat distortion of higher cultivation realms surrounding them.
Han Chen's grip tightened slightly on his rifle. His heart rate picked up before he deliberately slowed his breathing. "A core formation cultivator… so it's true." In the chaos of shifting formations, whispers spread across the 19th Regiment ranks.
Someone spoke softly over the comms, "I heard they were retreating from a defeat—fought Captain Charles' squad from the 4th Regiment." Han Chen's ears twitched slightly at the name.
"Charles Squad… those are the Polish elites." Rumor had it Captain Charles herself was a four-star core formation cultivator—someone capable of wiping out entire battalions in moments. And if the Crimson Squad fled from a battle with her, their wounds must still be fresh.
Even so, as the seven crimson-armored figures took position at the forest's edge, every soldier on both sides felt the shift in the air. The oppressive weight of higher cultivation rolled through the battlefield like thunder.
Captain Cai raised her rifle. "Everyone, tighten ranks," she ordered, her voice calm but grimmer than before. "Foundation cultivators, focus on defense. Qi condensation units—hold your breath and keep your heads down. These aren't enemies to underestimate." Rhun responded quickly, rallying the squads into layered cover positions.
Meanwhile, Han Chen stayed still, head slightly bowed, his dark hair brushing his rifle's scope. "So that's the Crimson Squad," he thought quietly. "Even wounded, they could tear through us if we're careless. I might just get my chance to harvest more death qi… or die trying."
The forest wind blew through the blackened trunks, carrying sparks and ash as the Crimson Squad flickered into full visibility. Their captain, clad in crimson armor cracked by earlier burns, raised her hand—and the air itself seemed to tremble.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then she smiled faintly, voice calm but full of menace. "So this… is the 19th Regiment? Perfect for venting the anger of defeat." Captain Cai's expression hardened. "All units—prepare to retreat!"
-----
Captain Cai's instincts screamed the instant the crimson-armored figures began radiating pressure. She felt it—an overwhelming, crushing sense of threat far beyond what her unit could handle. Even injured, the Crimson Squad of the 7th Regiment was a completely different realm of power.
Her voice came out sharp, leaving no room for hesitation. "All units, urgent retreat! Repeat, urgent retreat! Move southwest and don't engage. That's an order!" The transmission crackled through every soldier's earpiece.
The forest, once filled with gunfire, now echoed with hurried footsteps and clipped orders. Cai's soldiers fell back in organized haste, smoke and ash swirling around them. But the Crimson Squad didn't chase. Instead, they spread out silently—seven crimson figures positioning themselves around the forest clearing.
Their captain stood at the center, planting her blade into the ground. The air around them trembled. Crimson qi radiated outward in jagged waves as each member pressed their palms to the earth, channeling deep energy into the soil.
"What are they doing…?" muttered Vice-Captain Rhun, glancing back while retreating. Cai slowed, her eyes narrowing.
Han Chen, running at the rear, looked over his shoulder. The air shimmered faintly, faint lines forming—thin, glowing threads spreading from the formation circle outward.
Then he saw it."Those aren't spirit lines…" he breathed out slowly. "They're fragments of thread of law."
-----
The laws first appeared in the ancient classic
What set
To possess knowledge of the book required no high cultivation. Even children in qi condensation stages could recite its verses, and mortals beyond cultivation knew its proverbs by heart. Every sect taught excerpts of it in their early stages, not as doctrine, but as foundation—because the truths within it transcended power.
Within its pages, the Laws were described not as techniques, but as living principles. Each Law was a thread in the vast fabric of creation, infinite in number, and incomprehensible in depth. To understand even a fragment was considered a miracle. Nascent Soul cultivators, who stood among the pillars of strength in any world, could only hope to condense a single fragment of a thread from one Law in their entire lifetime.
The legends claimed that the Laws themselves governed existence—a balance that even immortals could not break. Among the many, the Law of Creation, the Law of Existence, the Law of Life, and the Law of Final Death were the oldest, said to have been drawn directly from Yuan Zu's will when he first attempted to bind chaos. His scriptures warned that any place where these threads manifested naturally was sacred and untouchable, for such sites were remnants of the cosmos' formation itself.
Thus, whenever a cultivator saw or even sensed the presence of authentic threads of law—whether in this world or another—they all understood what it meant. It was not a phenomenon of battle or arraywork. It was an echo of creation, a reminder of the order that existed before all realms, beyond all beings, even beyond life and death itself.
-----
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'When the River flowed, all things returned; when it broke, all things began.'
Long before Heaven learned to judge and before mortals learned to dream, there was only the River of Time, endless and serene. Within its current drifted a child—Yuan Zu, the first of all life, neither god nor mortal, born from the universe's first heartbeat.
Curiosity was his divinity. Innocence, his curse.
When Yuan Zu touched the current that birthed him, the River shuddered. Its flow convulsed, folding upon itself until every past, every future, and every possibility fused into one present. The heavens screamed; the stars lost their reflections. Reincarnation—once the breath of creation—was severed. From that moment onward, existence became singular: one life, one chance, no return.
Yet as the River perished, its fragments dissolved into the void, becoming raw energy—unmeasured, ever-growing, seeking vessels to contain it. From that surge arose all beings: beasts that devoured mountains, demons that drank starlight, and humans who dared to grasp the heavens.
The universe wept at its child's mistake, but could not undo it. Yuan Zu wandered the ruins of time, his tears forming the constellations, his heartbeat giving rhythm to existence. He became both the sin and the origin, worshiped by some as the Creator, cursed by others as the Destroyer.
---
The River of Time had perished. Its endless current, once glimmering with the fates of worlds, shattered into formless dust. Silence fell upon the Cosmos — not the silence of peace, but of something that no longer was.
And at the center of that ruin floated a child. Yuan Zu. His small frame drifted amidst the collapsing fragments of what had once been eternity.
Then came the flood.
It began as a whisper — a soft echo of lost laughter, dying stars, ancient prayers. But in a breath, the whisper became a storm. Countless voices, lives, memories, laws — the entire record of existence — surged into his mind like an unending tide.
Each fragment was a lifetime.
Each lifetime, a universe.
Each universe, a truth too vast for mortals or gods alike.
Yuan Zu's body trembled. His veins pulsed with light. His bones cracked under the pressure of infinity. Had it been anyone else, their soul would have shattered — their mind annihilated by the sheer weight of knowing.
But Yuan Zu did not die.
Because Yuan Zu was the beginning.
The flood that should have destroyed him, forged him. The knowledge of stars and death, of birth and void, of hatred and love, all coiled within him like galaxies forming a new will.
And when his eyes opened again, they no longer reflected innocence — they reflected creation itself.
He saw through everything. Through cause and consequence, time and illusion. He saw that the Cosmos had never been stable — that it had perished and been reborn countless times before.
He saw the truth of the Cycle, and how his touch had ruined the cycle completely.
The River of Time was gone, yet its echo remained within him. He was not only its destroyer. He had even become its vessel.
The shattered Laws of Heaven and Earth trembled before him. They gathered like frightened spirits, seeking order — and in that moment, they found it not in Heaven, but in him.
The heavens rewrote themselves to mirror his thought. The earth reshaped itself to match his will. And as the fragments of reality settled, a new law was born :
'From this moment forth, there shall be only one life for every soul.' - Law of Final Death.
The age of endless reincarnation had ended. The age of Chaos had begun.
-----TO BE CONTINUED-----