"We finally meet, General."
The word 'General' was spat out with great derision and mockery. The giant double-bladed axe was lifted and leveled at him. Its haft, crafted from the thigh bone of a Blue Flame Tusk, was smeared with blood and mud. Once glorious and menacing, the weapon had lost its shine in battle.
He Xuemo stood tall. His battle armor was in no better shape, streaked with blood and mud that clung like parasites. His dark, fiery red hair was matted with grime, plastered against his skull. He was panting — a clear sign of exhaustion.
The war had dragged on for fourteen days. Fourteen long days. All he wanted was to save his son.
A few hundred meters from He Xuemo stood the General. He was a strikingly tall man surrounded by the clash of weapons that rang out like thunder.
Behind him, moonlight struck his silver armor, tracing it in golden linings. With every strike, demon bodies disintegrated into clouds of dark red dust, painting an impossibly beautiful picture that did not belong on the battlefield. It was as if a god had descended from the heavens to rid the world of demons.
He was the God of War.
Xuan Tian.
His piercing purple eyes, filled with cold, calculated battle fury, met He Xuemo's gaze across the battlefield.
A soldier in bloodstained Celestial Army armor saluted sharply. "Report! The demons have been annihilated!" His voice was sharp, but exhaustion bled through.
Xuan Tian stood motionless, his tone cold and cutting. "You're the only one left, Demon."
He Xuemo laughed maniacally. "Hypocrites! You Celestials are all hypocrites! You love to slaughter us demons, yet claim it's to protect the realm!"
Xuan Tian's eyes narrowed with disgust. "You were heading to the Human Realm with five thousand Night Blood Spirit soldiers. I am merely here to stop you."
He Xuemo huffed. "Humans are as cruel and hypocritical as Celestials! You are all the same!"
Xuan Tian raised his sword, his tone final. "You talk too much."
He vanished.
In the blink of an eye, he appeared before He Xuemo, his blade slicing toward the demon's neck.
He Xuemo twisted just in time, dodging the killing blow, but not fast enough.
The sword grazed his neck. Blood began to trickle down, warm and steady.
Because Xuan Tian didn't stop.
Xuan Tian moved like war itself. Silent. Relentless. Absolute. He Xuemo blocked once, twice, then staggered back, breath ragged, defenses crumbling. Each blow pushed him closer to death.
And still, Xuan Tian said nothing. His focus was singular: end the fight, end the war.
Then. A burst of purple spirit energy. A strike that didn't cut but crushed.
Xuan Tian's palm slammed into He Xuemo's lower abdomen, straight into his Demon Core.
He Xuemo spat out blood and dropped to one knee, struggling to breathe. Pain surged through him as cracks spiderwebbed across his core.
He knew.
His death was already coming.
"You... are... a fool," He Xuemo rasped between shallow, broken breaths.
Xuan Tian stood in silence, towering. His cold gaze remained fixed on He Xuemo's posture. From a distance, it looked as though He Xuemo were kneeling before him, head bowed in surrender.
He Xuemo's breaths grew slower. His head dipped lower. His body tilted, then slowly collapsed sideways, until he lay sprawled across the ground.
But he remained conscious.
"You'll... regret... it... later," he murmured, the words barely audible.
His voice grew thinner. "My son... I'm... sorry."
The once-proud Demon Lord — feared, revered — now lay helpless, his dark red eyes filled with silent, desperate pleas.
In his fading vision, he saw a towering figure, unshakable as the heavens. Moonlight traced the sharp, commanding lines of Xuan Tian's face, casting deep shadows over high cheekbones and the faint furrow between his brows.
Absolute. Unyielding.
His gaze, cold as the abyss, held neither mercy nor hesitation, only the weight of a thousand victories, none of which had ever ended in his defeat.
It was almost amusing, in a twisted way. That in his final moments, he was truly seeing his enemy, not just a Celestial, not just a warlord, but the enemy of the Demon Realm.
The God of War.
Xuan Tian.
The last flicker of resistance faded from his eyes. A breath later, his body crumbled into blood-red dust, scattering into the wind.
It was over. At least for now.
"Casualties?" he asked a soldier nearby.
"Fewer than 200 out of 10,000, General."
A victory. A slaughter.
Xuan Tian remained still, listening to the wind whistle through broken weapons. How many times had he stood on a battlefield like this? How many victories? How many deaths? The title God of War meant nothing to him anymore. Victory had long lost its taste.
"Prepare to move out! We leave in one hour!" His voice cut through the silence.
"Yes, General!" The soldiers scrambled into motion.
Xuan Tian flexed his fingers, as if trying to shake off the grime of war. He needed to leave this place, to return, to report to Tian Xu Tianjun, to wash the blood and dust from his skin.
This war had lasted far too long.
It had taken him two weeks from the moment he caught wind of the Chief of the Night Blood Spirit Tribe's plan to attack the Human Realm. Two long weeks of tracking whispers, uncovering when and where, and how many soldiers would march.
Finally, he intercepted them at the Bone Burning Plateau, at the very edge of the Demon Realm, just before they could cross over.
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Beyond the clouds stretched the Celestial Realm, a kingdom of light and order.
At its center stood Yuxu Palace, home of the Celestial Emperor, Tian Xu Tianjun, the seat of the realm's absolute power.
Its walls were white jade veined with gold, its pillars carved with celestial dragons, and its rooftops of gold-tipped tiles gleamed under eternal daylight.
Celestial Imperial Soldiers at the gate saluted him.
Xuan Tian arrived before the gate of Zhenhua City, the heart of the Celestial Realm. He dismounted from Jing Xue, his massive silver-white wolf. No names or introductions were needed; every soldier knew them.
Entering the city, his heart eased with each step. Zhenhua spread before him in perfect order, a sharp contrast to the battlefield he had left behind. This was home.
The city's harmony gave him peace, one he hadn't tasted in weeks. Fleeting, but for now, it wrapped around him like something he could almost believe in.
Jing Xue padded beside him, silent, graceful, and impossibly alert. His coat shone like fresh snow, his light gray eyes carrying a cruel, ruthless glint.
The last of the Xuebai Wolf, an extinct breed once feared for unmatched ferocity and loyalty to no one.
No leash. No reins. Only one master.
Patrolling soldiers shifted aside as the beast passed, offering respectful nods.
The citizens' faces were serene, untouched by mortal concerns. To them, war was a distant tale whispered in court. Only those who had walked the battlefield knew its cost.
The palace rose ahead, its spires reaching for the heavens. Inside, Tian Xu Tianjun awaited. But for now, Xuan Tian felt no rush. Here, he could breathe.
He fought because he was the shield of the Celestial Realm. Innocent lives depended on his sword.
For Xuan Tian, there was no greater purpose than this peace. This sanctuary, untouched by violence. It was the goal of every Celestial to serve the realm, and he would ensure it stayed untouched by chaos.
The air pulsed with divine energy. The scent of lotus and sacred incense drifted from the palace gardens. Beautiful, yes — but Yuxu Palace was not a sanctuary. It was a place of power, authority, and unshakable law.
Soon, he would stand before the one who ruled it all.
The soft call of a distant bell signalled his arrival. His chest tightened, not with the weight of battle, but with the weight of duty.
He had done what he had to do. For them. For Tian Xu Tianjun.