CHAPTER 1: SHATTERED HOURGLASS
----------------------------------------
THE FALL OF A CELESTIAL EMPEROR
Blood-colored moonlight bathed the Nine Abyss Cliffs as razor-edged winds shrieked across the peaks. Ling Wuchen stumbled backward, his celestial robes in tatters, clutching his unconscious lover Su Li against his chest. Her white gown bloomed crimson where a cursed blade had pierced her golden core.
"Surrender the Chronos Tome," boomed the Sect Master of Void Zenith Sect, floating atop a nine-petaled lotus platform. His Heaven's Mirror artifact spun above the battlefield, weaving a cage of golden chains that sealed all escape routes. "Do this, and your souls may yet reincarnate."
Ling's laughter cracked like thunder, shaking snow from ancient pines. Three centuries ago, this same sect master had presided over his ascension ceremony. Now the man's eyes glinted with the same greed poisoning all thirty-six immortal sects surrounding them.
"You want divinity?" Ling spat stardust-blood onto the sacred text floating between his hands—the Chronos Tome pulsed with primordial light, its pages containing the raw essence of Time itself. "Then choke on it!"
His celestial core detonated first. Su Li's dying Phoenix flames erupted an instant later. The twin explosions warped reality, tearing a jagged scar across the River of Time itself. As the Heaven's Mirror's judgment beam descended, Ling glimpsed three golden runes break free from the disintegrating tome—and slice through his fading soul.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
----------------------------------------
REBORN IN MORTAL CLAY
A wooden ruler cracked against his desk.
"Daydreaming again, gutter rat?"
Ling Wuchen blinked. The stench of immortal blood vanished, replaced by the pine resin and ink scent of Green Cloud Academy's lecture hall. His sixteen-year-old mortal body sat slumped at a novice's desk, flanked by youths practicing basic qi circulation techniques.
"Perhaps trash like you should—" The instructor's tirade froze as Ling raised his head.
This face. Ling recognized the sneering instructor—Chen Mo, a minor Void Zenith informant planted in the mortal realm. Three centuries from now, this man would betray Green Cloud Academy during the Demon Tide invasion.
But not this time.
Ling's fingers brushed his dantian, where a scorched golden page hummed—the Chronos Tome's damaged first chapter. Memories flooded him: lifetimes spent chasing this relic's secrets, only to now find it fused with his reborn soul.
The disciplinary ruler came down—and disintegrated mid-swing.
Gasps erupted as rusted metal flakes snowed onto Ling's desk. The class watched in horror as Instructor Chen's prized Spirit-Severing Rod—crafted from indestructible Black Iron—crumbled like century-old parchment.
"Impossible!" Chen stumbled back, face draining of color. "You're just a Qi Refinement Stage—"
"Ant." Ling rose, his adolescent voice layered with the timbre of a fallen emperor. "You mistake the scale of the board you play on."
----------------------------------------
THE GHOST IN THE CODEX
That night, in the academy's dilapidated dormitory, the golden page flared.
"Took you long enough."
A translucent old man materialized above Ling's bed, his features eerily mirroring Ling's own. Crackling hourglasses orbited his form, each containing swirling galaxies.
"Who—?"
"Your predecessor." The specter smirked. "The last Lord of Temporal Law. Call me...Grandfather Time." A sand-filled palm pressed against Ling's forehead. "Now shut up and learn."