Guangzhou, China. Evening.
The Bai Corporation Tower stood tall above the city. To outsiders, it was just another tech giant. Few knew that beneath the tower lay a sealed sanctuary—a legacy of a forgotten cultivation world.
Fifty floors below ground, a jade-walled chamber held the Soul Mirror, one of the Bai Clan's greatest treasures. Floating in the center of the room, the mirror pulsed softly, revealing shifting images not of the present, but of the past and future.
Three elders sat in meditation around it. A fourth—older, standing—watched in silence. Bai Yunxiao. He had lived long enough to remember the day Lin Xian was sealed.
He knew what was coming.
"The Wu Clan is gone," Yunxiao said. "Erased."
The Soul Mirror's surface rippled violently, showing flashes of silver eyes, blood, and collapsing buildings. The image stabilized, revealing Lin Xian—alive.
"He's awake," Yunxiao muttered.
"That's impossible," another elder said. "The seal—"
"Was broken," Yunxiao interrupted.
They didn't argue. They understood what it meant.
Above, the elevator began its descent. No one had called it.
Lin Xian walked into the tower lobby unnoticed. A few mortals glanced at him, then quickly looked away. Something about him made their instincts scream.
The receptionist stood to speak.
She dropped dead before a word left her mouth.
The elevator doors opened without input. Lin Xian stepped inside. It descended straight to B50.
The jade chamber was still as he entered. Three elders rose at once, forming protective formations. Bai Yunxiao remained where he was.
"You haven't changed," Yunxiao said.
"You have," Lin Xian replied.
"You've already killed the Wu."
Lin Xian didn't answer. He stepped forward.
The closest elder activated a layered spirit array. Sigils glowed in the air. Spiritual pressure built quickly.
Lin Xian flicked a finger.
The barrier shattered instantly. Wind ripped through the room. The elder bent backward—spine snapped. He hit the ground, unmoving.
The second elder responded immediately, summoning the Soul Mirror. It hovered between them, glowing bright. It fired a silver beam of soul-severing energy straight at Lin Xian's spirit.
He didn't dodge.
He stepped into it.
The Mirror recoiled.
Its power twisted mid-air, turned inward. Cracks formed along the surface. The elder screamed in confusion.
Lin Xian reached him and touched his chest.
The elder's body caved in around his dantian. He died without another word.
The third elder panicked and activated the jade pillars around the chamber, locking it with a spatial formation. He drew a blade and lunged.
Lin Xian vanished and reappeared behind him.
A whisper of Void Qi passed through the elder's head.
He collapsed. Lifeless.
Only Bai Yunxiao remained.
He didn't move. He didn't summon any spells.
"I watched it happen," he said. "But I never raised a hand."
"You didn't stop them either."
"No. I was afraid."
"You lived while I rotted."
Yunxiao nodded. "I don't expect forgiveness."
"You won't get any."
Lin Xian stepped forward and pressed two fingers to the man's chest.
His heart stopped.
No drama. No noise.
He fell, eyes closed, as if falling asleep.
Outside the tower, nothing seemed different. People walked past. Cars honked. Drones zipped overhead.
But the world began to shift.
In Kyoto, a shrine caught fire without fuel.
In Morocco, an ancient oracle muttered a single phrase: "Void… has returned."
In Rome, underground runes activated for the first time in centuries.
And beneath the Himalayas, the World Cultivation Council met in emergency session.
"He's moving through the ancient clans," said one elder. "One by one."
"He doesn't want power," said another. "He wants retribution."
"He's cleansing the bloodlines," said a third.
The head of the council, an old woman in golden robes, stood.
"If we don't stop him now, we never will."
In the jade chamber, Lin Xian stood alone.
He looked at the cracked Soul Mirror. Its power was fading. The visions were gone. Only fragments of the past remained.
He opened his palm. A black scroll appeared, names glowing faintly in spiritual ink.
Wu — crossed out.
Bai — burned away.
Zhao — next.
He stared at the scroll for a moment.
Then turned and walked away.