Night weighed heavily over the Desolate Mountain, and the wind howled like grieving spirits circling the peak. At its summit stood a ruined shrine, silent for centuries—until this night. Shackled to the broken altar at its center lay Lin Xuan, his limbs bound, a blood-red sigil burning on his forehead like a sentence already carried out.
"The Branded Outcast. A body of Sinborn Fate. Such existence is forbidden."
The elder in grey raised a ritual blade, his tone as lifeless as winter stone.
Torches flickered. Dozens of cultivators from different sects encircled the altar. They were not here to judge him. They were waiting to divide the spoils. Their hungry gazes clung to the dormant power inside Lin Xuan—an unawakened yet world-breaking dual force: the Divine-Demonic Origin.
Blood filled Lin Xuan's mouth and he coughed lightly. Not with fear—only resignation.From the moment he learned to speak, the world had already declared him a curse.No reason. No explanation. Only an unshakable verdict: if he lived, one day the world would burn.
The blade rose.
"To purify the world, the calamity must be erased."
But the moment steel descended, lightning split the heavens.A blast of golden radiance and pitch-black demonic fire erupted from Lin Xuan's chest—not clashing, but coiling like twin serpents from the same origin.
The altar shattered beneath him.
"He awakened—? No, impossible! Divine and Demonic… in one host?!"
Chaos exploded instantly. The ground tore open; structures collapsed; screams drowned beneath roaring power. Lin Xuan plunged into darkness, yet through the fading of consciousness, a soft voice reached him—gentle, distant, commanding:
"If you want to live, come to me… the Heavenly Dao Sect."
Her voice was like starlight.
Then a second voice cut through—A girl standing upon an endless ocean of blood, hair wild, crimson eyes blazing.
"Forget them. You were born to destroy. Come to me when you're ready to stop pretending."
Two destinies—light and shadow—etched themselves into his soul.
The world fell away.The darkness closed around him.
And Lin Xuan understood one truth with absolute clarity:
If he obeyed fate, he would die.
To live, he must resist—no matter the cost.
Lin Xuan awoke again to the smell of earth and stone. The shattered altar had fallen into a vast underground rift, and he along with it. Cold damp air pressed against his skin, thick with untouched age—as if no living thing had stepped here for centuries.
He pushed himself up against the rocky wall, breath ragged.His chest still throbbed violently, but the burning seal had gone quiet.The storm inside him was silent—for now.
He traced his fingers across his forehead.The sigil felt like an invisible thread tied to his thoughts, ready to drag his mind into madness at the slightest pull.
"Divine and Demonic… both residing in me?"He didn't want to believe it.Yet instinct told him the truth: awakening could never be undone.
He needed to escape.
Fragments of memory flickered—even before the altar collapsed, the Heavenly Dao Sect and the Demon Tribe were both bidding for his life.
But why?
If he was a living calamity, why did some come to kill, some to capture, and some… to save?
None of it made sense.But one truth was razor sharp:
If he stayed anywhere long enough, hunters would come.
So Lin Xuan forced himself up and followed the underground crevice. Each step echoed with the threat of lurking beasts. His body trembled, but not from weakness—rather from the weight of a future being written without him.
At the end of the cavern, faint light appeared.
He pushed through a narrow opening and stepped out into the night.Cold wind slapped his face; branches shook; fires burned across distant slopes.
The Heavenly Dao Sect and the Demon Tribe were already at war.
Explosions of spiritual energy lit the mountainside. Screams, roars, blades, spells—every sound folded into chaos. Lin Xuan saw cultivators struggling desperately to hold the defensive line… and demons crushing forward with unstoppable force.
But all of it faded before his eyes when he saw the two figures at the center of the battlefield—
The girl in white, radiating icy brilliance.And the girl in crimson, surrounded by devouring flames.
They were fighting for him.
No one had ever fought for him.
For the first time in his life, his breath trembled. Something sharp and unfamiliar swelled in his chest.
But the clarity came just as quickly:
Regardless of who won… he was only a weapon to be owned.
As he weighed his next move, a loose stone broke beneath him.The clatter echoed across the mountain.
Every head snapped up.The battlefield froze.Time stopped.
Dozens of gazes locked on him—shock, greed, awe, terror.
Lin Xuan stood at the peak, tattered robes whipping in the wind. His eyes met theirs for only an instant… then settled on the two girls.
Yun Qingyao's face reflected worry and plea.Moli's lips curved in victory.
And then pain surged—violent, merciless.
The sigil ignited. Divine and demonic powers roared awake, tearing at his meridians and mind.
"No— not now!"
He collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest as gold and black markings crawled across his skin like living scars.
The ground trembled.
If he lost control, everyone below—human, demon, beast alike—would be erased.
Yun Qingyao reached him first, pure spiritual light pouring from her palms, desperately trying to calm the storm.
Moli seized his other arm, chains of flame binding his wrist, urging the demonic side to devour the divine.
Two forces ripped at Lin Xuan's soul from opposite directions.
The pain was unbearable.Yet it wasn't pain that forced a ragged scream from his lungs—It was fear.
Fear of destroying everyone.Fear of becoming exactly what the world claimed he was.
Blood and tears streaked down his face.But nothing could stop the eruption.
The world split open once again—
Heaven and earth roared.
The eruption inside Lin Xuan tore free—light and fire, gold and black, twisting together like two ancient dragons devouring each other for dominion over his soul.
The mountain peak split apart stone by stone. Everyone instinctively retreated; even the bravest understood that stepping closer meant annihilation.
"Stop resisting! You'll die if you fight the force!"Yun Qingyao's voice trembled—not with fear, but with desperation.Her power drained rapidly; trying to shield Lin Xuan from the storm was shredding her own meridians. Blood dripped from her lips.
"You're hurting him! Let go!"Moli roared as demonic flame cracked around her, yet she too staggered back from the shockwaves.
Lin Xuan dug his fingers into the ground, stone grinding beneath his nails.For the first time in his life, he wished to disappear.
The cultivators and demons around him watched in horror.If the eruption reached its limit, there would be no survivors—no sects, no armies, no mountain.
And at the brink of destruction, a faint voice whispered in the depths of his mind.
Not from outside.Not from the sigil.From himself.
"Live."
The word was quiet—fragile even—yet unyielding as steel.Not surrender. Not obedience.Will.
The sigil trembled. The rampage paused.
A flicker of clarity broke through the storm in Lin Xuan's dual-colored eyes. With a roar torn from the bottom of his lungs, he pushed both girls away:
"Don't touch me— I'll control it myself!"
Both Yun Qingyao and Moli froze.Because this was the first time Lin Xuan wasn't running, wasn't submitting—but taking back control.
He forced the raging power inward, vertebra by vertebra, muscle by muscle.The divine and demonic markings clawed at his skin, threatening to rip him apart, yet he held—through pain, through fear, through blood.
"I will not—let anyone—choose my fate."
The world held its breath.Then—an earthshaking boom.
The markings dissolved.The power quieted.Lin Xuan collapsed to his knees, gasping, drenched in blood and sweat.The sigil still burned—but he commanded it, not the other way around.
For the first time in his life, he was not dragged by fate.He resisted it.
Yun Qingyao approached quickly, then stopped just short of touching him—because even in worry, she respected his control.
"Lin Xuan…"Her voice held not only concern, but respect.
Moli stepped closer as well. The madness in her red eyes dimmed, replaced by fascination."You suppressed the dual source. Even I didn't think that was possible."
The battlefield fell into an eerie silence.
On one side stood light.On the other, shadow.And Lin Xuan stood between them—not claimed by either.
Hundreds of gazes locked on him—fear, awe, calculation, greed.
And Lin Xuan finally understood:
Power did not decide his destiny.Choice did.
He pushed himself upright—unsteady, bleeding, yet resolute.Gone was the boy waiting for judgment.What stood here was someone who would write his own fate.
"I am not your weapon.""And anyone who tries to control me… I will destroy."
Wind carried the words across the battlefield.Flames painted the night crimson.
For the first time, he stood tall—not as a curse, not as prey, but as himself.
The war halted—not out of truce, but out of fear and recognition.
Because from this moment on, Lin Xuan was no longer a prize to be claimed.
He was a force that would decide the war.
Destiny had truly begun.