Volume One: Fate Begins in Nanli

Prologue: The Beginning of Fate

　　In the southern borderlands of the small nation of Nanli, there lies a mountain at the western edge of its territory, called Xianji Mountain. All year round, crimson clouds swirl around the mountain, with faint traces of immortal energy. Jagged rocks litter the summit, as if they had fallen from the heavens, making the mountain appear even more extraordinary amidst the red mist.

　　According to local legend, there are immortals in the mountain, though no one has ever found even a single immortal hair. The red clouds have thus become a topic for idle chatter over tea, and aside from the occasional obsessed seeker of immortality, the mountain is no different from any other.

　　Midnight.

　　A young man slowly climbed to the mountain’s peak, standing outside the pile of jagged rocks, lost in thought.

　　He was not a seeker of immortality, just a villager from the foot of the mountain.

　　Strangely, ever since he came of age at sixteen this year, he had often felt a strange urge, as if something in the mountain was waiting for him. Whenever he could not suppress it, he would come to the summit to stare blankly, but he had never gained anything.

　　The rocks at the summit were rough, with some ancient patterns on them, though they were chaotic and without order. The youth reached out to touch them, feeling an inexplicable sense of intimacy, though he didn’t know why. He had seen them every day since childhood, yet never felt this way before...

　　“I wonder if it has something to do with my parents... When I asked Uncle Clark and the others, they all said I was just dreaming.” The youth looked up at the stars and moon in the sky. The moon was already high, and through the crimson clouds and mist, its light seemed tinged with red.

　　At that moment, voices suddenly came from the pile of rocks: “What bad luck, coming all this way to this wretched mountain, and who knows which bastard got to Little Peach Blossom from the Yi Hong Brothel first.”

　　Someone replied, “Shut up, the Grand Preceptor said...”

　　As they spoke, two people emerged from the rocks. When they saw the youth, they both froze, and the half-finished sentence was swallowed. Then their faces twisted into sinister grins, and two long swords stabbed toward the youth at the same time.

　　A country youth, simple and unsophisticated, with little experience—he had seen some seekers of immortality before, and they were always polite to the local villagers. He never imagined that these people would try to kill him without a word. Even as the two swords pierced through him, he didn’t know why.

　　The two men left, laughing. The youth lay in the center of the rocks, blood gushing from his chest. He stared wide-eyed in the direction they had gone, wanting to ask, even as he was dying—why?

　　The two had underestimated the youth’s vitality, thinking he was surely dead. In fact, the youth had practiced martial arts since childhood; if he hadn’t been so unguarded, it wouldn’t have been so easy to kill him. He didn’t die immediately, and slowly noticed that the rocks he’d seen all his life were changing as his blood spilled over them.

　　Under the moonlight, the stones began to emit a faint blue glow, mingling with the bright red blood in a strange and eerie way. Then, as if the light were contagious, the surrounding rocks also began to glow blue one after another. In no time, almost all the rocks at the summit had turned blue, and the dying youth lying on the ground suddenly vanished.

　　His vision twisted, and then he was surrounded by a vast expanse of blood-red, as if the world were dyed in blood. There was no end, no boundary—only a field of white bones, cold and putrid.

　　On the ground, besides the bones, were fragments of stone tablets, broken weapons of all kinds, sword hilts and blades scattered everywhere. In the red mist around him, countless human faces seemed to twist, roar, and wail.

　　“Is this... hell?” The youth’s consciousness was fading. “I’m so full of hate...”

　　He didn’t realize that in this strange place, a special kind of spiritual energy was slowly repairing his body, which should have died from blood loss. But his soul was already too weak, his consciousness dissipating—he could not survive.

　　Amid the howls and wails deep within his soul, a vague voice suddenly sounded: “This bloodline... No wonder you could come here...”

　　“Bloodline?”

　　“You’re about to die?” The voice seemed delighted. “Such a weak soul—perfect, perfect!”

　　Before the youth could react, a chill surged from nowhere, piercing through his soul and reaching the depths of his mind. He could only feel a terrifying ghostly face lunging at him from deep within, grinning wickedly, as boundless darkness closed in and swallowed him.

　　“Possession...” This was the youth’s final thought.

　　What terrible luck—first killed, then possessed... Forget it, he was going to die anyway. The youth’s soul let out one last furious roar: “If you take my body, then go ask the Grand Preceptor—why!”

　　At that moment, a soul of unknown origin suddenly broke into this twisted space-time.

　　As if drawn by the just-vacated shell, the soul drifted into the youth’s body.

　　The ghostly face attempting possession seemed surprised, but sensing that the newcomer’s soul was also weak, decided to swallow it as well, trying to digest both.

　　Boom! An overwhelming and utterly incompatible flood of information surged in, catching the ghostly face off guard. With a muffled groan, it was completely expelled by the new soul.