The sky burned with a deep crimson light, as though the heavens themselves had been drenched in blood. Mountains cracked under an invisible force, their peaks collapsing as the earth split apart beneath them. Flames surged wildly, devouring everything in their path and reducing years of foundation into nothing but ash.
The Black Mountain Sect was falling, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.
Amidst the ruins, Lin Xuan stood still, his breathing heavy as blood dripped from his wounds and soaked into his tattered robes. Around him, disciples ran in panic, their voices filled with fear and desperation as they tried to escape the destruction.
"Run! Hurry, run!" someone shouted, their voice trembling.
"Senior Brother, save me—!" another cried, but the plea was cut short by a sudden explosion that shook the ground. Stone halls that had stood for decades collapsed into dust, their fragments scattering like fallen leaves in a storm.
Lin Xuan did not move. His gaze remained fixed on the destruction before him as everything he had built over two hundred years disappeared in mere moments. A faint, bitter expression crossed his face as he let out a quiet breath.
"So this is how it ends," he muttered, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.
High above the chaos, a lone figure stood calmly in the sky, completely untouched by the destruction below. His white robes fluttered gently, remaining pristine as if the flames and bloodshed belonged to another world entirely.
Zhao Tian.
Not far from Lin Xuan, one of the surviving elders struggled to stand, his body trembling violently as he pointed toward the man in the sky. His face was filled with disbelief and fury, as though he could not accept what was happening.
"You… why are you doing this?!" he demanded, his voice shaking.
Zhao Tian did not even look at him. With a simple flick of his finger, a faint ripple passed through the air. The elder's body froze for a brief second before exploding into a cloud of blood, leaving nothing behind.
Silence spread instantly across the battlefield, choking the cries of those who remained. Fear crept into every corner as no one dared to speak again.
Lin Xuan slowly lifted his head, his eyes locking onto Zhao Tian. For a brief moment, the collapsing world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them facing each other.
Zhao Tian looked down with mild curiosity, as though observing something insignificant. He spoke lightly, a faint smile forming on his lips as he said, "Concept Incarnate at two hundred? Lin Xuan, that's quite ordinary."
Lin Xuan let out a quiet laugh, though there was no trace of humor in it. He wiped the blood from his mouth and shook his head slightly.
"Yeah… I know," he replied.
He had never been a genius, nor someone favored by fate. Everything he had achieved came from time, effort, and countless struggles that no one else had seen. Two hundred years of cultivation and persistence had brought him this far, yet in the end, it meant nothing.
He took a slow step forward, steadying himself despite the pain coursing through his body.
"Tell me something," he said, his voice calmer now. Zhao Tian did not stop him, nor did he show any reaction. "Why? For someone like you… why go this far just to destroy my sect?"
The wind howled between them, carrying the scent of ash and blood. Zhao Tian remained silent for a moment, his expression unchanged, before his eyes darkened ever so slightly. It was not anger or rage, but something far colder.
"You're asking the wrong question," he said with a soft chuckle.
Lin Xuan frowned, his gaze sharpening. "Then what's the right one?"
Zhao Tian finally looked at him directly, the faint smile on his face disappearing completely. What remained was pure indifference as he spoke in a calm, almost emotionless tone.
"You should be asking why someone like you was allowed to exist this long."
Lin Xuan's pupils shrank at those words.
Zhao Tian raised his hand slightly, his voice steady as he continued, "No background, no talent, no destiny, and yet you reached Concept Incarnate. Doesn't that feel out of place?"
A heavy weight settled in Lin Xuan's chest as realization dawned on him.
This was not about hatred or revenge. To Zhao Tian, he was simply a mistake that needed to be erased.
"Your existence is unnecessary," Zhao Tian said, pointing a finger toward him. "Your story ends here."
The air suddenly grew unbearably heavy as an overwhelming force crashed down onto Lin Xuan's body, slamming him into the ground. He could not move or breathe as blood filled his mouth and the pressure threatened to crush him completely.
So this is the gap between me and a true genius, he thought bitterly.
His vision began to darken, yet even as consciousness slipped away, he kept his eyes fixed on Zhao Tian. Deep within his chest, a burning hatred refused to fade.
"If there is another life," he whispered weakly, his voice barely audible, "I won't lose again."
Zhao Tian gave no response, as those words held no meaning to him.
The pressure intensified, and in the next moment, Lin Xuan's world fell into complete darkness.