He stood upon the Azure Peak, a figure soaring towards the heavens. As he hurtled through the air with impossible speed, a wind akin to the void itself howled, and the warrior’s body shuddered violently.

Then, with a sickening finality, he shattered, his form collapsing into countless fragments that rained down upon the land.

The blade, a weapon wreathed in violet lightning, emitted a mournful cry as it plummeted from the sky. It plunged hilt-deep into the summit of a lone mountain, silent save for the earth’s response.

From the point of impact, the mountain rippled, as if struck by an unseen force. Cracks spread like spiderwebs, and tons of rock cascaded down its slopes.

A tempest of stone dust and debris swirled around the fallen blade, coalescing with unnatural speed. Before long, a crude statue formed, encasing the sword. Upon its rough surface, the likeness of the fallen warrior emerged, as if sculpted by the mountain itself.

The figure of the slain hero rose, bit by bit, from the stone shroud. The statue was a rough hewn thing, its details blurred by the speed of its creation, yet with each passing moment, the sword, as if infused with a spirit of its own, gained ever sharper definition.

His hand, now hardened into stone, left an undeniable mark on the mind of Wang Lin, a testament to the warrior’s power. The statue seemed to pulse with a vibrant energy, as if a life still lingered within the stone.

“Descendant of my blood… Unseal the gate and grant me awakening… Should your strength fail, remember this charge for all generations…”

The echoing words, now a brand upon Wang Lin’s soul, began to take root, attempting to carve themselves into his very being.

Fortunately, the burning agony consuming Wang Lin’s flesh shocked him back to awareness. He stumbled backwards, closing his eyes, and slowly wrestled himself free from the strange trance.

The searing power that coursed through his veins surged, cleansing his mind and dispelling the lingering imprint.

Snapping his eyes open, Wang Lin recoiled in horror. He staggered back, for this statue possessed a power he did not understand.

With his thousand years of cultivation, he quickly grasped the essence of the enigma before him.

The hand gesture etched upon the statue was, without a doubt, a powerful arcane technique, a form of inheritance… yet not of power, but of eternal servitude!

But even the mightiest of magic weakens with the relentless passage of time. The effectiveness of this ensnaring spell had surely diminished.

Yet, if not for the searing energy coursing through his flesh, Wang Lin feared he might not have escaped its grasp. Still, a question lingered. For, within the depths of his mind, as the words dissipated, it seemed his own power had only aided in their destruction, as if the inscription had rebelled against itself.

“You felt it, did you?” Li Yuan spoke softly, his gaze fixed upon the stone likeness.

“Fear not, Xu Xiong, for the brand will not enslave you. It will fade… for it already has a thrall. My ancestor, long ago, ventured to this place, and with his masterful control over forbidden arts, breached the mountain’s defenses to reach its peak. From that day forth, he became the servant of this fallen god, and his descendants carry this brand in their minds for all eternity…” Li Yuan’s words, though spoken aloud, sounded as if he were lost in a private lament.

“This statue cannot be broken,” Li Yuan continued, raising his hand to touch the cold stone. With a surge of inner energy, cracks spiderwebbed across the statue’s surface, a grotesque tapestry of destruction.

In an instant, the statue crumbled, disintegrating into countless fragments.

Yet, as quickly as it fell, the stone reassembled, reforming the statue with breathtaking speed, restoring it to its original form.

“Xu Xiong, you see?” Li Yuan turned, his gaze meeting Wang Lin’s.

Wang Lin nodded grimly, his face etched with concern.

Li Yuan sighed, a sound of profound weariness. “My clan, the Li, were once renowned throughout the Roaming Heaven Starfield for our mastery over forbidden techniques. We were one of the six great ancient families, shaping the power with our incantations. Every generation saw members who transcended the First Step, reaching the Second…”

“The Li Clan, in those days, were at the height of our power!

“But, ever since my ancestor ventured into the Immortal Realm of Thunder during its initial opening, no descendant of the Li Clan has ever again broken through the First Step. Perfected foundation is all that they can accomplish… It is as if all our innate potential is slowly bled away from us from the moment of our birth…

“Furthermore, even our lifespan is diminished. A member of the Li Clan at the same cultivation level can only hope to achieve a fraction of the lifespan of another. And this is all due to the mark of servitude!” Li Yuan snapped his head towards the statue, his eyes burning with generations of hate. But quickly, this hate was overtaken by despair, his face a whirlwind of emotions, his hands twisting in agony.

Wang Lin stood silently by, his gaze impassive.

After a long moment, Li Yuan looked as though he was drenched in sweat. His clothes clung to him and he seemed to have aged. He made a series of hand seals, placing a set of markings made of numerous layers of forbidden seals on his forehead. With the seals in place, his eyes slowly regained their clarity.

“Xu Xiong, when my emotions become too volatile, I lose control of the mark.” Li Yuan’s voice was hoarse.

“For countless years, this mark has caused the gradual decline of my clan. We succumb to an early death, and the highest cultivation we can reach is stuck at the First Step. We have slowly lost our former glory.”

“Tens of thousands of years ago, the Li Clan had a peerless genius. His talent and knowledge of forbidden magic surpassed that of all his ancestors. If it had been a different era, if the Li Clan hadn’t been burdened by the mark of servitude, he would have been the strongest the Li Clan had ever known!”
The ancestor, though merely a Peak Ascendant cultivator, possessed such mastery of arcane wards that even those who had taken the second step towards immortality dared not trifle with him. Driven to shatter the slave-mark that had plagued the Li clan for generations, he ventured beyond the Celestial Astral Domain during his waning years, seeking out the most learned masters of enchantment, hoping to decipher the method of its undoing.

In the Star Alliance, he bartered a skill in warding for a painted scroll from a cultivator of great renown. Then, in the Cloud Dust Sector beneath the Wind Immortal Realm, he traded the clan’s accumulated wealth for a mystical compass.

As his lifespan dwindled, he returned to the Celestial Astral Domain, to the Li clan. Half of the remaining kin, with willing hearts, sacrificed their lives, their souls woven into the form of an immortal’s blade, forging a simple iron sword.

With the iron sword as a focal point, the compass to condense the binding, and the painted scroll to unseal, the ancestor, as his life ebbed away, witnessed the opening of the Thunder Immortal Realm. He carried these three artifacts, laden with the hopes and convictions of the entire Li clan, into that perilous realm.

Alas, from that day forth, no word returned of the ancestor. Despair engulfed the Li clan, their fortunes dwindled, and their members perished one by one. The slave-mark clung like a curse passed down through endless rebirths, an inescapable fate. “To this day,” Li Yuan lamented, “only three of us remain, including myself.”

Li Yuan’s voice, tinged with sorrow, suddenly hardened with a grim resolve. “All this remained hidden until, a thousand years ago, my father stumbled upon an iron sword on a remote cultivation world! Had it been any other trinket, we might have dismissed it, for time had obscured the past. Yet this iron sword was forged from the souls of half our clan. My father recognized it instantly, sensing within it the hatred and rage of our departed ancestors.”

Li Yuan’s right hand grasped the void, and a vortex of warding light shimmered into existence. Within that vortex, the horrified figure of a woman named Ge appeared.

She was wrenched from the vortex, powerless to resist, and hurled at the base of a nearby stone idol.

“The Ge clan possessed the iron sword!” Li Yuan’s eyes burned with venomous hatred.

“In days of Li glory, the Ge clan would have been crushed like dust. But today, our cultivation is capped at the Peak Ascendant stage. Our skill in warding, though potent, is no match for the Ge, a clan boasting two cultivators who have stepped beyond the threshold of immortality.”

“Years ago, I ventured forth in disguise, infiltrating the Ge clan to uncover the truth.” Li Yuan looked at the sky.

“The Ge clan knew my identity all along, but they spoke not a word about the past. Instead, they brought Ge Hong and the three artifacts with me into the Thunder Immortal Realm.”

“Even without their confession, I, Li Yuan, can piece together the truth!” Li Yuan stared at Ge Hong, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Today, Li Yuan will fulfill the ancestor’s final wish. But first, your blood will atone for the despair that consumed my clan’s ancestral souls for countless millennia!”

He seized Ge Hong with his right hand, his fingers closing around her crown. Despair flooded her eyes. She attempted to speak, but no words came.

Wang Lin frowned slightly. “Li, the feud between your clan and the Ge is of no concern to me. Why have you drawn me into this?”

Li Yuan turned to face Wang Lin, his expression devoid of emotion. “I witnessed your battle against the Yin Void cultivator through my wards. One of your mystical abilities holds great value for me. Fear not, I will not seek your aid without recompense. Upon success, I shall gift you the complete Plum Blossom Eighteen Wards and the secret Clan Li Dissolution Wards! For now, I implore you, be patient. I must first appease my ancestral spirits!”

Hate burned in Li Yuan’s eyes as he unleashed his immortal power, a raging torrent that surged into Ge’s body. Her face contorted in agony, yet her eyes blazed with a sudden clarity. She strained to glance at the stone idol, and with that single look, understanding dawned. She opened her mouth to speak, but death silenced her forever.

Her body erupted in a shower of blood mist, blanketing the mountaintop, coating the idol in its crimson essence. Her very soul was devoured by the stone, dissipating into nothingness.

Li Yuan bowed his head, his face clouded with bewilderment. After a long silence, he sighed, his voice laced with age-old sorrow. “Ancestor… kin… Li Yuan… will carry out that which you could not.”