From a frozen wasteland, a goddess arose…

Her beauty surpassed even the legendary Mu Bingmei, a beauty so potent that even without a smile, she could stir the hearts of the most stoic cultivators. An indomitable spirit shone in her eyes, setting her apart from ordinary women, lending her an enchanting, singular grace.

As she slowly opened those eyes, they revealed depths like star-filled skies, a mesmerizing vortex from which none could easily escape. The sound of shattering ice echoed across the shattered stone continent as the icy prison cracked and splintered, until the entire landmass erupted in a cataclysm of frozen shards.

The goddess inhaled deeply. Upon her brow, the ancient god star-point spun with increasing fervor, unleashing torrents of primordial power into her very being. After a long moment, her eyes blazed with divine light. She clenched her delicate right hand, and a thunderous roar erupted from her palm, shaking the foundations of the world.

At that very instant, the star-point upon her brow flickered and paused, revealing the seven violet stars contained within. A seven-star ancient god. A seven-star female ancient god!

With the unveiling of her true nature, the mysteries of the past began to unravel. Was this the reason Yi Muzi had been dispatched to Wangyue? Was this the reason Wang Lin’s life essence had been drained by the patriarch of the Xiang family on Donglin Star? That stolen essence… it was the essence of a god.

Though Wang Lin did not fully comprehend all, as he traversed the starry skies of Luo Tian, understanding dawned upon him. The Xiang family patriarch, driven by personal ambition and the demands of his arcane arts, had initially sought Wang Lin’s life force. He never intended to let Wang Lin leave Donglin alive. From the moment Wang Lin set foot on the planet, the patriarch sensed within him the lingering resentment of a long-lost family member.

Even without that resentment, the patriarch would have drained Wang Lin’s essence. For even before Wang Lin’s reunion with his true self, the connection between their souls radiated an irresistible abundance of life, a tempting prize for the greedy patriarch.

But just as he seized the essence and prepared to strike the killing blow, an ancient command, a divine decree from a member of the ancient Donglin family, echoed in the patriarch’s mind. Compelled to obey, he abandoned his intent to slay Wang Lin. Instead, following the divine directive, he siphoned an immeasurable font of ancient god essence from Wang Lin’s true form through the link to his soul.

Wang Lin, having probed the patriarch’s memories, now understood the truth. Recalling the actions of Yi Muzi, he began to piece together the fragmented puzzle. “The ancient Donglin family…” Wang Lin’s eyes gleamed. He cast a glance back at the distant stars behind him. “Within that family… there dwells an ancient god. Is this being timeless, or like I once was, a vessel of inherited power?” After a long silence, Wang Lin turned and continued his journey. “My warning has been delivered. Let them not seek to provoke me.”

“Of the four tasks, two are now complete. Next… the Yao family, and the Blood God Child.” Wang Lin’s expression was serene, yet the lingering aura of his wrath still lingered in his eyes. “That Blood God Child hunted me in the past. If not for Senior Brother Qing Shui, my avatar would have been obliterated. I cannot forget this. Furthermore, the Blood God Child harbors an ancient spider within him… my ancient demon avatar is in dire need of its power.”

“Moreover, though I never formally pledged myself to the Yao family woman, a promise was made in her dream, binding me with a thread of karma… Now, I shall sever that thread.” Wang Lin’s figure receded into the void.

Donglin Star lay shattered and broken. The Xiang family and all its branches were utterly destroyed. The tremors that reverberated across Luo Tian, emanating from Donglin Star, were quickly recognized by cultivators throughout the region.

Donglin Star, the most infamous and dangerous celestial body in the Luo Tian Starfield, had been obliterated. Its destruction sent shockwaves across the entire realm.

Meanwhile, in the southern reaches of Luo Tian, a band of roughly one hundred cultivators journeyed in solemn silence. Among them was a woman, her youthful beauty faded, replaced by the weariness of middle age. She walked in quiet resignation among the others, her face etched with the marks of time.

Though past her prime, one could still discern the remnants of a once-extraordinary beauty, but only if her face wasn’t marred by the horrifying scars that crisscrossed her flesh. These disfigurements overshadowed all else, a grotesque tapestry of dark crimson lines carved into her face like deep ravines. They were a disturbing sight, repelling those who dared look upon her, compelling them to recoil in disgust.

These scars were not the result of ordinary wounds or spells. They were self-inflicted, deliberately carved into her flesh again and again over many years, each healing and subsequent rending slowly etching themselves into her very bones and soul, becoming an eternal part of her being.

Her cultivation was low, barely at the Yang Spirit stage. She exuded an aura of profound exhaustion and confusion. Her family had been decimated in the war against the Alliance. Only a handful of survivors remained. Even her beloved patriarch, the one who had cherished her most, had perished in the ancient god lands of the Vermillion Bird Star, sacrificing himself to save her. Her entire family had crumbled.

After the war, weary and wounded, she returned to Luo Tian. But her family was scattered, the clan was no more. Heartbroken, she wept, gazed at the ruins of her former home, and then departed, wandering the Luo Tian Starfield alone, an exile without a home.

In the chaotic aftermath of the war, survival for a lone woman was a grim struggle. Though she had a few distant acquaintances, the warmth of their former friendship had long since faded. At that time, she was still young, still possessed a captivating beauty. Many sought to exploit her beauty, promising her protection in exchange for her compliance. For a vulnerable woman, a humiliating existence was often the only path. Especially since her beauty, in particular, aroused so much covetous desire.
Like a fading echo of the Cloudsea Returning Sect’s once-renowned Lü Feiyan, yet tempered with a resolve far sharper, lived Xi Zifeng in the Realm of Luo Tian. She, with her own hand, had extinguished the flame of her breathtaking beauty, severing the gazes that had once clung to her like shadows.

For beauty, it was whispered, was often a harbinger of a fleeting life. But perhaps, disfigured and made grotesque, such a fate might be averted.

She had not forgotten the burning ember of her youthful ambition: to rise as her ancestor had, a sorceress of formidable power, standing defiant within Luo Tian, carving out her own dominion amidst the celestial tapestry.

Yet, that dream was slipping from her grasp like sand through clenched fingers.

In the darkest recesses of her heart, were it not for the ghost of a forgotten hero, she feared she would have long since been reduced to a mere vessel, a living furnace used to fuel the ambitions of others, trading the sanctity of her flesh for the fleeting chance to continue her path.

But the memory of him, however faint, held her back from such dishonor. She could not bear to sink to such depths, even if he had long forgotten her, even if her name had faded from his mind. She, however, remembered…

She could not erase from the annals of her memory the Lei Xian Realm, now shattered and crumbling, where a figure, not tall but mighty, had led a desperate exodus of survivors.

She could not forget that same figure, standing defiant against the Lei Xian Palace guardians of the crumbling array.

And she could never forget the Battle of Immortal Sealing, where that name had risen above the din of war, becoming a legend in Lei Xian. Though he was unaware of her presence amidst the throng of onlookers, and though he could not know the joy that blossomed in her heart at that singular moment of his ascendance…

Eight centuries had passed. And yet, with each recollection, alongside a pang of sorrow, the memory of that figure gifted her with a spark of the courage to endure.

Memories, like drifting smoke, flickered across the canvas of her mind until, on the horizon, a celestial sphere bathed in the radiant aura of cultivation materialized.

The company of nearly a hundred cultivators paused before the world, led by a middle-aged man radiating an air of arrogant authority. His gaze swept over the assembled group, but when it settled upon her, a flicker of contempt darkened his features.

Most cultivators revered the vessel of their flesh, understanding it was the very foundation of their power. Many sought to prolong its vitality, striving for methods to delay the inevitable, to stave off the encroaching touch of age.

But she, with her marred visage, was an anomaly, a wild, rootless plant of the cultivation world, ripe for exploitation.

“Xi Zifeng,” the middle-aged man commanded, his voice echoing with the authority of his peak Nascent Soul cultivation, “You will use your spirit to sway this star from its path.”

He had known her from years past, one of the many drawn by her beauty, but the sight of her now, disfigured and ruined, only inflamed his displeasure.

To shift a world’s orbit required a spirit-rending exertion, for in the moment of disruption, a backlash would erupt, inflicting grievous wounds upon the soul.

Xi Zifeng remained silent, her grotesque features paling. After a long moment, she bowed her head, her voice a hoarse whisper, “Envoy, I have swayed the orbits of the previous three stars. My spirit has not yet recovered. Is there perhaps…”

Before she could finish, the middle-aged man scowled, cutting her off with a dismissive snort.

Xi Zifeng flinched, biting her lip. She offered no further argument, and turned, instead, toward the star.

Behind her, amongst the assembled cultivators, a few bore expressions of pity, offering silent sighs of lament.

“A millennium ago, the Xi Clan, while not among the elite, held considerable sway in Luo Tian. Now, to see a direct descendant, the once-radiant Xi Zifeng, reduced to this… A cruel twist of fate.”

“Xi Zifeng is a woman of rare resilience. But alas… alas…”

“There is nothing to lament. Cultivation is inherently brutal. In the aftermath of the war, there are many who have suffered far worse.”