The Cosmic Sage. A being whose mind was like a blade that cut through all, unflinching in his methods, elegant yet ruthless, entrapping both mind and soul.

Warlord Zhen of the Heavenly Demons. Raw. Brutal force given flesh, the embodiment of both shield and sword, strength and conquest.

The Starfall Empress. A soul as merciless as a desert’s sun, her ambitions as vast as a star field, with no hesitation for power.

The World-Rending Monarch. An acolyte of raw destruction. A voice of granite grinding against metal who saw all structures as weak, ephemeral. He tore through walls, mountains, and armies alike with bare hands, treating the very land itself as clay to be reshaped by his will. To him, life was a resource to drain; his attacks shattered land, crushed bones, and silenced voices in seconds, creating an atmosphere thick with dread.

The Lotus Tyrant, Skybreaker Cheng, and Iron Soul Yan.

The seven generals stood in the dead Emperors hall. Loyal. Fierce. They had served him as his strongest. His closest. They had shaped the empire under the will of his words. Seven pillars.

The Starfall Empress's eyes fell to the body of the Emperor, her hands trembling, a ripple of grief turning her knuckles white as she clutched her sword. “No,” she breathed, a single tear tracing her cheek. “No… it’s a trick. This can’t be real. The Emperor is… He can’t… We cannot be left without him.”

Beside her, the Warlord Zhen’s face twisted, his stance hardening, every line of his body taut as he faced Jin, a snarl escaping his lips. “He was our anchor,” he muttered, stepping forward. “Our guide. Blasphemy. How… how could a mortal, a thing like you, take that from us?”

Jin’s tired gaze sharpened with a faint and macabre amusement that flashed accorss his eyes as he lifted his bloodwhip, letting it sway in front of him to drip with its rippling, crimson barbs. The emperors undying flame still clung to his wounds, suppressed by his perfected blood arts. It hampered his every movement, draining his Qi and vitality. “Blasphemy? Against what?” he asked with words like blades, cutting. “A lie? Your Emperor clung to the heavens to escape the weight of autonomy.” He turned his gaze to each general, one by one, his bloodbound creatures moving in tandem, their crystallised weapons raised, casting sharp tints of red and maroon across the hall. “And you all followed him because you’re terrified of what it means to be truly free.”

Warlord Zhen swung wildly, a rage-filled roar escaping him, desperation fuelling his attacks. Jin parried each strike. His blood constructs moved with relentless precision, cutting through the Warlord's defences. Each of them held the experience of one who had battled thousands.

Warlord Zhen’s face twisted, anger spilling out in every twitch and spray of blood as he stumbled. Jin's blood curse had taken hold, and without immediate action it would not be long before the Warlord of the Heavenly demons fell lifeless as a result. Nevertheless, Zhen's voice bounced off the walls of the hall, fierce and unyielding. “And so you think freedom lies in destruction? That with nothing, people will somehow grow?” He clenched his weapon, brandishing it before him. “You call this salvation?”

Jin tilted his head, a dry laugh escaping his lips, cold as steel. “No,” he replied, his gaze piercing. “Salvation was a lie. Chains."

"I am not here to give you answers.” He let the blood whip lash forward, striking against the demonic Warlord's axe, sparks flying. “I am here to show you there are none.”

They fought.

The seven generals’ weapons rose, their eyes fierce, burning with rage as they moved to encircled him. His bloodbound sapients moved with a frenzy and ferocity that bordered on fervor, their future sight anticipating each general's moves, countering them before they could land. The hall became a battlefield, blood splattering against walls, foundations rumbling, walls cracking with the clanging clashes of combat. The Lotus Tyrant lunged, her sword aimed at Jin's chest. He met her with a spear of blood to block her strike, their weapons impacting in a burst of energy.

"You’re faltering, Bloodseer," a flash of anger blazed in The Lotus Tyrant’s eyes as she steadied her sword, stepping forward, her face pale yet resolute. “You've failed. The people will curse you,” she spat, her hand steady on her weapon. “They will hate you. They will live every day wishing you had never set foot in this empire. We will make sure of it.”

“Good,” Jin retorted, stepping forward, his bloodbound creatures following, their forms swirling, solidifying, each holding a weapon of hardened blood. Despite their advantage, The Lotus Tyrant grimaced.

She was the first to die.

With a swift movement, Jin twisted his spear, both severing her soul from its body and disarming her, sending her weapon clattering to the floor. She fell, gasping, her hand clutching her chest as she pleaded. “I fought… because he was my light… he… gave me meaning…”

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Jin’s vision sharpened as a flash of blue lightning curved toward him. He sidestepped at the precise moment, his eyes cold, avoiding the impact as it seared into the ground.

He looked down at her, his face unreadable. “Then he blinded you,” he said coldly, his voice low. “Better to die with your eyes open.”

He killed two more of them, until only four of the empires strongest remained.

Jin’s blood armor began to show signs of strain, cracks forming under the relentless assault, blood leaking from the gaps. The Starfall Empress pressed forward, her shards now forming a spear of pure energy aimed directly at Jin’s chest. He deflected it with his own, but the force sent him staggering back, blood splattering against the marble floor. “You’ve made yourself the enemy of everything that lives,” she screamed, her shards piercing the air towards him. “You are what people will fear for generations.”

Jin’s response was a final, desperate surge of power, his bloodbound sapients converging on the four remaining generals, each attack precise and devastating. “I don't care."

His vision blurred, the bloodbound constructs faltering around him, the flow of energy draining with each desperate strike due to the lingering wound left by the dead emperor. He could feel the injuries—slowly, relentlessly—gathering their toll. But he raised his spear again, unwavering.

The Empress of stars brought her sword down, a brutal slice that cleaved through the air. Jin’s spear moved to intercept, but the pain surged, searing, forcing his arm to drop by inches, the blow slicing across his shoulder.

“Do you feel it now?” The Starfall Empress continued, unyielding. “The weight of a god’s vengeance pressing upon you?”

Jin staggered, his blood constructs falling back, dissipating into red mist, his mind fractured with pain. “The weight of a dead man?” he sneered, the bitterness coating his words.

“It took four of you, bound to the corpse of your Emperor… and you still fear to act without him... You still want to bind fate to his will...”

But even as he spoke, the blood in his veins slowed, an icy, creeping stillness spreading, his sight faltering as he saw, too late, The Cosmic Sage's blade descending from behind—a strike he could see but not counter. He lifted his arm, willing the blood armor to thicken, a construct to form in mid-air to shield him, but his own blood betrayed him, sluggish, unable to react in time. The blade pierced through and a burst of agony exploded through his chest, his breath hitching as darkness closed around the edges of his vision.

“That ‘dead man,’” The Cosmic Sage' snarled, wrenching his blade free, “Will give us purpose.” Formations rippled into existence around him as he drove his boot into Jin’s chest, forcing him back, his body collapsing against the throne’s steps, blood pooling, his own creation now simply the lifeblood draining from him. "His corpse will give us strength. So will yours."

Jin coughed, a spray of red staining the steps beneath him, the cold stone biting into his skin. His strength faded, but he managed a final, ragged breath. “You’ll… inherit nothing,” he spat, each word a struggle. “The world you… inherit will be nothing… like what you left behind.”

The World-Rending Monarch stepped forward, his sword raised, steady. “Then let us seize it from you,” he murmured, his voice calm yet unyielding. “As you stole our god.”

Jin’s sight faltered as he watched the blade rise with eyes that glowed bright as stars, an eternal moment suspended in the realm of forms, all possibilities converging into this final end. Countless outcomes, all of them ending with his death. As the sword fell, he welcomed the darkness, a faint smirk lingering in defiance even as the last breath escaped him.

***

“They’d laugh if they knew,” Jin muttered.

To think that he, once a destroyer of stars, was now reduced to a young disciple in a sect that would be beneath his notice if it were not for the empire that governed it. He had clawed through the streams of time, shredding his mind over and over, until he’d found that one thin line where his ritual succeeded. He had bypassed the Jade monarch's parting gift to uncover the secret of rebirth, though the Dao's madness had caused him to forget most of how it had been done. This body, though weak now, held potential. He would forge it anew, strengthen it until it surpassed even his former self.

This life, this second chance, would be different. He had failed to topple the empire in his previous life, only managed to fracture it. He’d torn half of its heart out, forced the emperor to his knees, and shattered their unity into four weakened factions. He had free'd them, or so he'd thought. But that had not been enough. A mistake—he saw that now—that had cost him everything. His own blood had been spilled by lesser cultivators because he’d grown complacent, he had let his pride convince him that his ability to peer through time had made him infallible.

They had killed him and stolen portions of both his and the Jade emperor's power and capabilities.

"That damned sage," he muttered under his breath in anger.

Never again. This life was not a chance for redemption. It was retribution. With this life, he would make no mistakes. His past self had been a Blood Marshall; now, he would become something more. There would be no half-measures. No arrogance. No stupidity. This time he’d rend the Empire until not a single star bore its mark.

Each face returned in fractured memories, splintered but sharp. three of the seven had fallen by his hand—generals he had ended in the heat of his rebellion, their blood still wet and seething as he struck down their leader, the emperor of all they had pledged themselves to defend.

Now four of them remained, wielding the power of corpses. Generals claiming to be Emperors, each wearing crowns that would never fit, and each pretending to be something not meant for them

The memories rose like embers catching fire, igniting the pieces of his past that made him powerful. Jin needed time to regain his former glory, but as a youth, time was all he had.

He wasn't powerless, though it had fractured his mind, his Dao had never left him.

Neither had his techniques.

In the present, within the tunnel his future protégé Alex had dug, Jin’s young fingers tightened against his palms, a rare grimace breaking his usual calm. In the end, he had fallen not to strength, but to something that had defiled his corpse and stolen parts of his power. The four false Monarchs likely held limited versions of both his and the dead Jade Emperors abilities. The very idea filled him with endless rage.

“One by one,” he murmured, his voice a vow etched into the silence of the caverns tunnel. “One by one, I will see each of you fall.”

Jin allowed the thought to linger and breathed out, a faint smile curving his lips. The empire was already his—he simply needed to claim it.