Above the throne of shattered gods, under a sky of eternal dusk, two figures floated amidst fragments of broken constellations. One bore the weight of forgotten sins. The other, the fire of rebellion.
Xuantian's sword shimmered with soulforce and remnants of his ancient techniques—blades carved from years of pain, sacrifice, and willpower. Across from him, Yuehuang, the Fallen Light, moved with the calmness of inevitability. His twelve chained arms pulsed with sealed divinity, and each movement caused the very realm to tremble.
"No more words," said Yuehuang, his voice echoing in every direction.
"Agreed," Xuantian replied, vanishing in a blink.
Their battle began with silence.
And then—chaos.
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A Clash Beyond Realms
Xuantian's first strike split the air with a soundless void. The blade didn't cut, it erased. Space twisted and light bled from the wound in reality. Yuehuang responded by shattering the law of gravity itself, sending Xuantian plummeting through layers of folded dimensions before yanking him back with a simple gesture.
Chains surged from his back, each inscribed with languages no longer spoken. They lashed like serpents—alive, intelligent, hungry.
Xuantian spun, parrying with [Heaven-Breaking Sword Art – Fifth Form: Sever the Heavens].
Steel and chain collided, unleashing storms of qi that annihilated everything within miles. In the mortal world, cultivators far away felt a ripple of pressure so immense, they collapsed mid-training, coughing blood.
Yet neither combatant relented.
Time warped.
Reality bent.
Every swing held philosophies—ideals—clashing in silent discourse.
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Visions in Battle
With each exchange, visions intruded into Xuantian's mind.
A world ruled by gods, where mortals crawled in fear.
A sect that rose above divine oppression.
A disciple's betrayal.
A woman's death in his arms.
Then, Yuehuang's memories: betrayed by his own brethren, exiled for questioning divine order, chained for seeking truth.
Their battle was more than strength—it was a duel of souls, of choices, of truths.
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A Turning Point
After hours—maybe days—Xuantian faltered for a breath.
Yuehuang seized the chance.
His twelve chained arms broke free for a second. Just one.
And from that unbound hand, he unleashed a technique forbidden even among deities.
"Heaven's Regression – Cycle Collapse."
The sky inverted. The realm screamed.
Everything began reversing—blades returning to sheaths, wounds healing in reverse, even time itself curling inward.
Xuantian felt himself pulled into his past—back to the day his sect was slaughtered. The day he failed.
"Do you now see?" Yuehuang's voice whispered. "Pain is the only eternal truth."
But Xuantian bit his lip until blood spilled and screamed—
"No! That's not the only truth!"
His will surged.
He summoned the [Void Sutra: Final Rebirth].
His body became a vessel of pure soulforce, his essence igniting in a burst of white-gold flames.
"I've carried pain long enough. It will no longer chain me. I am my own truth."
---
The Final Strike
Sword in hand, Xuantian moved with clarity beyond vision.
He struck.
One slash.
Not fast, but absolute.
The world held its breath.
Yuehuang stepped forward—
And stopped.
Blood spilled from his lips.
His body cracked like porcelain.
A slow smile formed.
"…So you've surpassed even the divine," he murmured. "You're ready."
---
The Inheritance
Yuehuang collapsed to one knee.
Chains returned, but not to restrain—they now bowed toward Xuantian, acknowledging him.
From Yuehuang's chest, a glowing shard rose: the Essence of Forsaken Divinity—the final key to unlock the forbidden truth of cultivation beyond godhood.
"Take it," Yuehuang whispered. "Break the heavens. End the cycle."
Xuantian reached out.
As his hand touched the shard, a surge of knowledge—ancient, pure, raw—flowed into him. His soul trembled, not with fear, but with awakening.
The Realm itself bowed.
A new cultivation stage revealed itself: Transcendent Rebirth, beyond Immortal, beyond Divine.
Only one had ever reached it.
And now… a second had emerged.
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Outside the Throne
Ruyue and the others sensed the shift.
The sky cleared. The crimson haze faded into gold. The land, once twisted and broken, began to reshape, healed by Xuantian's presence.
He descended slowly, eyes glowing faintly with new power.
But there was no arrogance—only purpose.
"Let's go," he said quietly. "We still have a world to change."
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