Dang, dang, dang—the golden figure’s three consecutive strikes were easily blocked, and then more than a dozen weapons stabbed into the golden armor. Under the combined assault of so many masters, the golden-armored figure, unable to withstand the pressure, finally spat out his first mouthful of blood. The many blood-colored figures besieging him were overjoyed and were about to press the attack when a golden blade ring suddenly appeared out of thin air. Within a radius of several dozen feet, all the blood-colored figures were sliced in half at the waist.

But after unleashing this final blow, the golden figure was immediately swallowed up by the surging tide of sabers, spears, swords, and halberds. The golden divine armor had already endured tens of thousands of attacks before this. Now, facing the full force of so many weapons, dozens of hairline cracks instantly appeared.

The powerful forces of these dozens of weapons, each with different properties, penetrated directly through the armor and struck the man within, completely shattering the true energy he had just gathered. In that instant, who knows how many bones were crushed under the pressure and impact of those dozens of forces. Under the immense pressure, the tortoise-shell golden divine armor finally collapsed with a thunderous crash. Amidst the countless flying fragments of golden armor, the black-clad man within was revealed.

Immediately after, dozens of weapons pierced through the body behind the golden armor. Pfft, pfft, pfft... Amid the sounds of flesh being pierced, the black-clad man was lifted into the air by the blades of dozens of weapons. In a sea of cheers, a sharp, sudden laugh rang out, “Hehehe, Henry Brooks, this is your fate...”

Even though he couldn’t move a finger, and was suspended in the air, the black-clad man’s eyes remained indifferent, as if he were high above, accepting the worship of the masses. That voice roared, “Refine his divine soul with the Netherworld Earthfire, let him vanish forever from the Three Realms and Six Paths...”

As black flames danced, the black-clad man’s muscles convulsed all over his body. This soul-burning agony was something that neither gods, ghosts, demons, nor monsters could withstand. Yet even as he watched his once-mighty, godlike body slowly turn to ash in the flames, his gaze remained cold and proud, unchanged in the slightest.

Absolute darkness—no sound, no color, no taste, no temperature—only a vast, empty blackness.

“Ahhh...” He wanted to scream with all his might to tear through the darkness, but his whole body felt like cotton, utterly powerless, and even his full-strength scream was inaudible to himself. “Break, break, break...” Thinking of that blade light that could cut through everything, he tried hard to clench his right hand. “Nothing can stop my blade!” With this unshakable conviction, forged through countless cycles of reincarnation, his right hand slowly tightened into a fist.

Watching Henry Brooks burn to ash, the many blood-colored figures laughed and howled wildly.

The tiny bit of ash that Henry Brooks had become drifted gently through the blood-red sky. Suddenly, a speck of ash flared with a glint of golden light.

That golden light was faint and dim, but in the blood-red world, it was dazzling.

“What is that?” All the blood-colored figures who saw the golden light felt a trace of doubt rise in their hearts.

The golden light grew brighter and brighter, and in an instant, it was like a golden sun hanging in the blood-red sky. Billions of golden rays tore through the eternal, icy, bloody darkness of this world.

The golden light grew ever stronger, until finally, the countless ferocious blood-colored figures seemed to melt into the golden radiance.

Within the wheel of golden light, the supremely majestic figure of Henry Brooks slowly appeared. At the same time, Henry Brooks’s grand voice resounded throughout the world: “I, Henry Brooks, am the eternal God-Emperor of the Three Realms and Six Paths. All gods, immortals, ghosts, demons, monsters, and all beings—can only submit.”

As soon as Henry Brooks’s voice fell, the dark world shattered and collapsed in countless golden rays. In the crumbling world, countless blood-colored figures wailed and roared in vain...

Chapter One: An Unexpected Encounter on the Mountaintop

“Ah...” With a suppressed cry, William Carter suddenly woke up.

The morning light filtered through the blue curtains into the room, and in the hazy white glow, everything inside was clearly visible. The hands of the small alarm clock on the nightstand clearly showed the time: exactly five o’clock in the morning. On the light yellow faux-wood desk not far away, a few books were scattered messily, and on the matching bookshelf on the other side of the desk, all kinds of senior year review materials were crammed.

Seeing the familiar arrangement of the room, William Carter let out a soft sigh of relief. Ever since he could remember, he had the same nightmare every night. In every nightmare, he wielded a golden blade, locked in a desperate battle with endless blood-colored monsters. Every time, in the end, he would be tormented by all sorts of punishments, until his last shred of consciousness crumbled to ash and light, and only then could he awaken from the nightmare.

Sticky blood, flying limbs and organs, and those ferocious blood-colored figures—whenever William Carter recalled them, he could almost smell the pungent scent of blood in his nose. After having the same nightmare for so many years, William Carter felt that not having gone insane was already a sign of extraordinary mental resilience. Yet even now, he was still afraid of that nightmare.

This fear wasn’t because of the blood and pain, but because every time he dreamed, he could feel that indescribable, soul-deep despair. Even though he was now a legal adult, it hadn’t given him even a shred more courage. So, he had never truly had a good night’s sleep.