The world trembled the day the Demon King fell.
Mountains shattered, oceans howled, and the skies wept crimson as the mightiest villain of the Nine Realms—Vareth, the Demon King of Eternal Night—was finally defeated. Seven Emperors united, sacrificing their legacies and lives to annihilate the one being who had brought entire dynasties to ruin. With a roar that split the heavens, Vareth was swallowed by the Void Requiem Seal, his body turned to dust, his soul condemned to eternal nothingness.
Or so the world thought.
A thousand years later, deep in the backwoods of the Azure Sky Continent, lightning roared on a moonless night.
An ancient sect, long forgotten by the world, stood silent among crumbling pagodas and vine-strangled walls—The Twilight Shadow Sect.
It was the weakest sect in the continent, home to no more than one disciple, no reputation, no elders, and no hope.
Until the heavens defied fate.
Lightning struck the altar at the center of the sect's dilapidated square. The skies twisted in wrath, and a blood moon cast its gaze on the world. From within the bolt of divine punishment, a figure emerged—naked, pale, and expressionless. His crimson eyes slowly opened as he took his first breath in this new world.
"This soul... It's mine."
The man sat up. His long black hair flowed like ink, and his presence made the air itself kneel. The overwhelming energy of slaughter and tyranny seeped from his pores.
"I was meant to be erased… But even the Void cannot hold me forever."
He clenched his fist.
"This body… weak. Mortal. Yet… alive."
Memories rushed in. This body once belonged to a man named Shen Mo, the last Sect Master of the Twilight Shadow Sect. A joke of a title, inherited from generations of decline. He was betrayed, poisoned, and left to die alone.
Now his body belonged to Vareth.
The Demon King had reincarnated.
"Fate gives me a second chance. Then I shall repay the heavens with hell."
A timid voice echoed from a nearby hall.
"M-Master…?"
A skinny boy stepped forward, trembling. Dirt smeared his face, his robes were torn, but he held a tray of steamed buns and broth.
Vareth—now Shen Mo—looked at him with narrowed eyes.
"Who are you?"
"I… I'm Han Li, your disciple, Sect Master! I-I thought you died after those thugs from the Wind Flame Sect… b-but you're back! Are you okay? You look… different…"
The Demon King's gaze softened for a mere breath. The boy was weak—at most Body Refining stage one. But in his eyes, there was sincerity… and fear.
"How many members in the sect?" Shen Mo asked.
"J-Just me and you, Master…"
"Heh… A disciple and a corpse. This is what I'm left with?"
He stood and looked around. The spiritual formations were broken. No cultivation fields remained. Even the protective array had been scavenged.
The Twilight Shadow Sect was no more than a ghost.
"Then we will rebuild from bones. Brick by brick. Blade by blade."
"Huh?"
"You, Han Li, will be the first disciple of a new empire. You will become the blade that cleaves heaven, the fire that razes realms. I shall forge you."
The wind howled around Shen Mo as his demonic aura surged—though barely a flicker of his past glory, it shook the bones of the mountain.
"In this life, I will not merely reign as a Demon King…""I will become the Supreme Sovereign Sect Master."
Han Li blinked, his body trembling. He didn't understand half the words, but he knew one thing—something had changed.
His master had returned from death.
And the heavens would soon tremble again.