In a vast and verdant valley surrounded by soaring mountain ranges, two middle-aged men stood tall. Their robes fluttered in the breeze, revealing the glint of steel and the flash of intricate mystical symbols etched into the fabric.

The valley they stood upon was filled with ankle-high emerald grass that sparkled with droplets of morning spiritual dew. Twin suns cast their rays upon the land, illuminating the valley in a warm and welcoming light.

To the north, the valley stretched on, thinning and widening in some regions due to the mountains, before terminating in dense woodland. The trees were ancient and gnarled, their trunks thick with age and wisdom. The foliage was dense, and the air was thick with the sweet scent of blooming flowers.

To the south, the valley slowly petered out, visibility swiftly dropping as a thick, cloying fog hovered over the land. It leached the color from the very grounds themselves, shrouding the land in mystery and danger. The inscrutable depths of the fog promised deadly mysteries and opportunities for those brave enough to venture into its depths.

And lastly, to the west was a dormant volcano. Its steep, obsidian slopes released an ominous aura that washed over the desolate, ash-covered lower regions. The volcano was a powerful symbol of the land's raw power and potential, a warning to those who dared to challenge its authority.

The two men stood opposite one another in the central valley, surrounded by the beauty and power of the land.

Tang Xiang stood tall and proud on the eastern side of the valley, his exposed jade skin gleaming in the morning light. His pale blue eyes glinted with unassailable arrogance and crackled with volatile heavenly energies, and his angular eyebrows, defined cheekbones, thin lips, and rounded, cleft chin gave him an air of unyielding determination.

He wore an immaculate black silk robe that clung to his lean figure, accentuating his narrow waist, broad shoulders, and defined chest muscles. His loose, straight black hair reached down to his waist, shimmering in the breeze that passed through the valley.

The right sleeve of his robe was purposely shortened at the shoulder, exposing the whipcord muscles of his entire right arm. A majestic, azure-colored dragon tattoo coiled around the limb, its tail wrapping around his wrist and ending in the center of his palm. The creature's prideful face and deadly claws were prominently displayed on the outside of his shoulder. The tattoo's graceful and swooping lines seemed to possess a life of their own as they shimmered against his skin.

An ordinary steel broadsword hung diagonally suspended behind his back, attached to nothing yet remaining floating at the perfect distance to be drawn. Its two-handed grip and cross-guard rose over his right shoulder while the blade tip extended past his left heel. It was a rather plain-looking weapon when compared to its wielder. The broadsword's only remarkable aspect, and the one hint that the weapon was anything but ordinary, was its pommel, where a jagged blue crystal sat. The crystal sporadically discharged thin forks of pale lightning into the surrounding air.

On the western side of the valley, Mao Duyi stood tall with his tanned skin gleaming under the twin suns. Despite his average height and remarkably ordinary features of hooded brown eyes, smooth eyebrows, and a square face with a shallow burn mark on his left cheek, he exuded an aura of strength and power that few could match.

He wore plain white silk pants, exposing his broad torso, chiseled abdominal muscles, muscular arms, and large hands. The upper parts of his ears were pierced with radiant metals that emitted rainbow-colored coronas of light, hinting at the extraordinary treasures he possessed.

On each finger of his hands, he wore a different ring with one or many alchemically condensed Beast Cores embedded into their structures, a testament to his skills in alchemy.

Hanging around his neck was a thin, silken string attached to a thick, jade pendant etched with profound symbols that rested in the center of his bare, muscular chest. His shoulder-length, straight light blonde hair was styled with dozens of colorful braids that similarly emitted signatures of Spiritual Treasures, and his perfectly trimmed full beard was a shade darker than his hair.

“So, it’s Daoist Heavenly Azure Dragon,” Mao Duyi's deep baritone voice rumbled with condescension as he looked down upon Tang Xiang. Mao Duyi's Spiritual Sense found Tang Xiang to be lacking in strength. As a tenth-stage Half-Step Immortal himself, he had no fear of a mere fifth-stage Half-Step Immortal cultivator.

In fact, the spiritual grasses and mystic dirt beneath his feet were more valuable to him than anything this Daoist could offer him.

However, Mao Duyi considered himself a seasoned cultivator who had braved the dangers of the path to Immortality for over nine centuries and was not one to let his guard down easily. So despite what his Spiritual Sense was telling him, he couldn't help but feel a sense of caution. He couldn't shake the feeling that Daoist Heavenly Azure Dragon was holding back his true power.

Mao Duyi knew from experience that in the world of cultivation, one could never be too careful.

The path to Immortality was filled with treacherous dangers, and only the most cautious cultivators could survive long enough to reach their goals. He had seen many cultivators fall to their own arrogance, believing themselves to be invincible, only to be cut down in their prime.

Mao Duyi was not about to make the same mistake, nor was he a man to be easily fooled by his opponents.

He knew that if Daoist Heavenly Azure Dragon was indeed suppressing his true strength, then the worst-case scenario would be that they were equally matched in power.

Mao Duyi was too experienced to entertain the idea that his opponent was stronger than him.

Mao Duyi's arrogance was not without reason; he had achieved everything through his own efforts and martial techniques, and no one stood behind him; no Sect could take credit for his actions and achievements. Every martial technique was his own, and the Dynasty he had erected overnight seven centuries ago was his own. Every Heaven-defying and life-saving treasure in his possession was accumulated through braving perilous dangers and overcoming impossible opposition. He considered himself the epitome of what every rogue cultivator aspired to be, having achieved practically everything possible beneath Heaven’s gaze.

Yet despite Mao Duyi's hot-blooded arrogance, he was also a cunning strategist who understood that warfare was not only conducted on the battlefield. A cultivator was only as powerful as his foundation, and in this world, to ascend required mind-boggling riches and influence. Therefore, if his opponent had the ability to prevent his own kingdom from collapsing, they would have surely appeared sooner. It wasn't logical to entertain any other possibility.

Therefore, it was this day... Mao Duyi nearly shook from excitement.

‘My final test- the decisive battle before my ascension to the Heaven Realm,’ he could feel the weakened bottleneck that he needed to break through for his ascension to the first stage of Sage Immortal.

“The coward has finally shown himself?” Mao Duyi clenched his hands into fists at his sides.

The popping of his finger joints sounded like miniature glaciers cracking and dislodging from an ice shelf, and his gaze expectantly burned with an inner fire.

Tang Xiang, on the other hand, only coldly gazed back at the ant that arrogantly dared speak in his presence. The insect even displayed its puny treasures across its body- flaunting garbage and spewing crap. He would not lower himself to addressing such a creature. The absolute most he would grant it was a painful death on account of it soiling the surrounding air with its breath.

Tang Xiang snorted and flicked a finger.

Mao Duyi’s next condescending insult stuck in his throat as his pupils shrunk into pinpricks.

There was only one thought dominating his mind at that moment.

‘Danger!’

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Far below, on the mortal plane, two massive armies of over five hundred million soldiers each faced off against one another. The frontline of each army stretched for tens of thousands of people, with swordsmen, pikemen, and archers arranged into thousands of regiments.

The two Generals stood beside one another in front of their respective forces, their bodies radiating powerful Qi fluctuations as they looked up at the blazing suns. Beads of sweat dripped down their foreheads, but neither of them dared to wipe it away.

One of the Generals had a pair of dull red leather pauldrons embroidered with golden dragons. He lowered his hand from his face and turned to the man on his left; his eyes squinted in thought.

“Honorable Brother Meng,” General Sun Shanyuan addressed the man by his side, “Would you entertain a conversation while our fates hang in the balance?”

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General Kang Meng cast a sidelong glance at Sun Shanyuan, the corner of his eye flickering with uncertainty. He then swiftly redirected his gaze to the base of the island that towered above them, breaking through the clouds. With a sense of calm and authority, he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, relishing the warmth of the dual morning suns on his skin. As a cultivator who had trained for countless years, his senses were sharpened to the point where he could feel even the slightest changes in the environment around him.

“En. Let us speak as warriors,” he solemnly accepted his archnemesis' proposal.

As Sun Shanyuan cast his gaze upon the army he led, he saw the regimental designation flags fluttering chaotically in the wind. His heart was heavy with the weight of his responsibility. Each armored warrior stood tall and still, their silence a testament to their discipline and readiness for battle.

With a guarded wistfulness etched onto his face, Sun Shanyuan turned away from his troops. “Not as men?” He asked.

“It would be pointless.” Kang Meng swiftly replied.

“Perhaps.” Sun Shanyuan acknowledged that reality. “But I would like to try,” he finished.

Kang Meng's eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What do you hope to gain?” He asked.

“Perspective.” Said Sun Shanyuan.

Kang Meng grunted. “An unfair exchange. What do I gain from this?" He asked.

Sun Shanyuan let out a strong breath through his nostrils, his expression a mix of self-deprecation and wistful longing. "A conversation between friends?" He said, his words both a statement and a hopeful plea.

“I do not count you among my friends.” Snorted Kang Meng.

The corner of Sun Shanyuan's mouth tugged up. “And I consider myself grateful for this! I have heard stories of your victory celebrations. Who gives their friends Silver Stemmed Berry Juice?” Sun Shanyuan couldn't help but good-naturedly reveal some embarrassing information he'd overheard throughout the years of their relentless campaigns against one another.

Kang Meng’s face twitched as he stood slightly straighter, his armor’s plating and leather straps stretching and clinking against one another. “You- it is a healthy alternative to wine!” He staunchly defended.

Sun Shanyuan smirked. "And what of morale?” He asked.

Kang Meng’s eyebrows furrowed, and he shifted himself to face Sun Shanyuan for the first time in their conversation. “Do you always mock strangers like this?” He asked, a slight warning chill in his tone.

Before Sun Shanyuan could respond, both men's eyes widened as they simultaneously sensed a disturbance in the air. They looked at the island.

The cloud cover that extended for miles in every direction and blanketed the island suddenly began to darken, shrouding the land beneath in an unnatural gloom.

Then, suddenly, streaks of blue lightning snaked through the clouds like a massive serpent, and booming thunder rumbled in the distance, sounding like the arrival of a powerful storm. Without warning, the sky ripped apart with the electric crack of lightning. Dozens of bolts illuminated the clouds, striking something on the island with unrelenting force.

The ground shook violently, and Sun Shanyuan and Kang Meng struggled to maintain their balance.

As the lightning continued to strike, they watched in awe as a massive pillar of radiant fire erupted from the island, piercing through the clouds and dispersing the storm. The ground ceased to shake, and the island fell silent once more. An unnatural stillness hung in the air, lasting a handful of seconds before the sky began openly weeping. Torrents of water poured from the sky, soaking the two warriors to the bone.

They looked at each other, their expressions stiff. “Already? It cannot be as simple as that...” Sun Shanyuan muttered in confusion.

“The Immortals are unfathomable beings- it is best never to make assumptions.” Kang Meng stated matter-of-factly, eyes intently trained on the island.

“You admire them?” Sun Shanyuan asked, his voice laced with realization and incredulity.

“I am merely stating a truth.” Said Kang Meng.

Sun Shanyuan couldn't help himself and gave a derisive laugh. “An ugly truth.”

Kang Meng's eyes narrowed, and lines of annoyance darkened his expression. “You sound like a child.” He said.

“I would much rather be a child than a tool.” Sun Shanyuan retorted with a huff. “Are we not more than that?” He asked Kang Meng as much as himself.

“No." Kang Meng resolutely replied. "We are servants," He said with evident pride.

“Do you not long for more?” Sun Shanyuan insisted, his brows knitting down into a frown.

Kang Meng’s face darkened at the question; however, he did not reply immediately.

“The strong rule over the weak. This is the way of the world- of all worlds. There is no other path,” He finally spoke, fully turning to face Sun Shanyuan as he continued speaking his mind.

“If you desire change, you must be strong enough to enforce it. Or possess the strength to have others enforce your decrees. It is as simple as this.”

“But why?” Sun Shanyuan insisted, “If the idea has merit... if it is good for all," he stressed. "Then why should strength or power be that which dictates its use?” He asked.

“Because that is your understanding of the Dao,” Kang Meng’s expression turned severe, and he turned away. “But do you have the strength to preach your Dao over another’s?” He asked.

Sun Shanyuan stared at Kang Meng before stiffly turning away. “I suppose not.” He said.

Suddenly, thunder boomed, and lightning tore apart the sky once more as though Heaven had awoken to smite something that had incited its otherworldly wrath. But, unlike the previous time, where neither General could see the lightning’s target, it was all too obvious this time.

Dozens of azure lightning strikes rained down upon the towering image of a roaring, life-like flaming tiger that appeared above the island.

The Generals’ souls shook as they witnessed the might of the Immortals with their own eyes.

The tiger reared back its transparent, flaming head and released a bone-shaking roar that seemed to reverberate across the entire continent.

No one in the armies was spared- some vomiting onto the grass, others falling onto hands and knees, some staggering around drunkenly as they lost all sense of themselves, and most dropped their weapons or flag poles in shock. The clouds surrounding the island were thrown into a roiling turmoil as lightning and fire wreaked havoc- especially on the island itself.

“That... It is unlike anything I have ever seen,” Sun Shanyuan dazedly muttered, having recovered enough to stand and resumed watching the battle unfold.

‘Are we safe?’ he wondered. Even at this distance, the aftershocks of the battle were enough to rattle over one billion Qi Condensation soldiers. A poorly aimed martial arts technique would destroy this entire region, let alone the armies.

“Such magnificence. Such power!” Kang Meng spoke passionately.

Similar exclamations came from thousands of soldiers in either army.

“I have never seen anything like this!”

“These must be two of the strongest Immortals in the Mortal Realm!”

“Do not be a fool. They are powerful but far from the strongest.”

“Is that Heavenly Tribulation lightning? How can this be?!”

“Look at those flames! Truly an Immortal fire technique!”

“Who is winning?!”

“I cannot see anything from here.”

A massive dome of flames bloomed over the entirety of the mountain- constant lightning strikes hammered down onto it from hundreds of angles. The dome suddenly contracted as though taking a breath, then exploded outward in a tsunami of billowing flames, smoke, and crackling blue lightning.

“What is that?!”

“I see it too!”

A small blue sphere defiantly hung suspended over the island- an ocean of raging flames surrounding it.

“That must be the Immortal!”

“There is such a heaven-defying defensive technique?”

“He did not even try to escape! That was completely defensive!”

The lightning-cloud cover over the island flashed a darker blue, the number of strikes increasing by half and the thunder booming twice as loud.

“Look there!”

Millions of eyes intently scrutinized the storm after hearing some unknown voice shout in surprise. And then- hundreds of gasps sounded when they saw the anomaly.

The lightning no longer struck the island and instead shifted to condense over the stationary lightning sphere. The lightning slowly spread in countless strange patterns until it formed the shifting, life-like image of an azure dragon staring down at the island.

An Azure Lightning Dragon! The legendary Azure Lightning Dragon!?

How could this be?!

“A dragon!”

“What kind of heaven-defying technique is this?!”

The azure lightning dragon raised its head toward the clouds, opening its mouth in a silent roar as thousands of lightning bolts surged across the sky and struck the island. The sky flashed a blinding white, and thunder boomed. Gusts of hurricane winds swept through the valley.

General Sun Shanyuan’s legs collapsed beneath him as his meager cultivation base was entirely suppressed. The sound of crashing armor and snapping leather sounded beside him as General Kang Meng suffered a similar fate. Along with both armies. Some even outright died from the pain of their Meridians shattering under the strain.

Sun Shanyuan caught himself on his palms and coughed a mouthful of blood. His eyes bulged in disbelief when he looked to his side. Kang Meng was only on his knees. Panting and with concentration written across his face but unwilling to fall.

‘How!? Is he that much stronger than me?’ Sun Shanyuan regretfully wondered.

Kang Meng slowly stood.

‘No...How...?’

Sun Shanyuan could feel blood trickling out of his nose; the weight on his body and soul was too much to bear. That was also when he heard the distinct clamor of armor and weapons- Kang Meng’s forces slowly rose to their feet.

‘No...’

Sun Shanyuan looked to his forces and saw that his fate was indeed sealed. His entire army was either on their hands and knees, retching blood, or dead. Millions of milky, lifeless eyes stared blankly up into the sky.

‘No! This- this cannot be...’

Sun Shanyuan hung his head, some of his inky black hair having escaped his helmet and hung in strands beside his face. He heard footsteps and the crunching of dry grass. He craned his head up.

Kang Meng stopped before him, expressionlessly staring down at his oldest rival.

Sun Shanyuan hung his head.

“So, this is how it ends?” he spoke to the ground. The dry grass pricked his palms. Drops of sweat fell from the ends of his hair, his eyes absently watching as they wet the dead soil.

“Yes.”

“I have one request.”

The sound of a sword scraping against a scabbard rang in Sun Shanyuan's ears.

“...Do not allow my soldiers to suffer.”

Silence…

“I won’t.”

“Thank you, General Meng.”

The wind whistled!

Blood sprayed the grass before Sun Shanyuan- spattering across his hands. But the next moment... he felt nothing.

His eyes slowly closed for the last time as warm darkness consumed him.

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That night, an entire kingdom of fifty billion mortals was annihilated before sunrise breached the horizon the following day.

Nightmarish stories swept through the lands.

Farmers gossiped as they traveled along dusty roads, hauling rice, spices, and vegetables.

Guardsmen practiced and exercised, boasting of their martial prowess and how the battle would have been different if they had been present.

Nobles calmly sipped steaming tea in their reading rooms, discussing the tide of politics and inevitable repercussions to their businesses.

Silver taels, gold bullion, and Spirit Stones exchanged hands.

Cultivation Sects collapsed while others rose to tower above the rest- their reputations and disciples exponentially increasing.

Despicable rumors about dishonorable, nefarious Rogue Cultivators spread. Many were hunted down; most were driven from their cultivation caves or exiled.

No one, however, was surprised. Kingdoms rose and fell with the coming of another day. Cultivators waged total war with one another in the skies every week- and mortals caught the aftermath every time.

It was normal.

It was the cycle of life.

Only through the ashes of death could the vital young Phoenix be reborn and spread its wings to cover the world anew!

After all, it was the strong who ruled over the weak.